Rediscovering My Love for Art: From Winnie the Pooh to Pencil Sketches
- Jul 30, 2025
- 3 min read
"This is Pooh. Pooh is a bear. He loves to eat honey. Pooh's best friend is Owl. My name is Athira. I drew this picture. I got bored sitting in the house. I saw a book named 'Winnie the Pooh: Grand and Wonderful Day.' I drew the picture of Pooh, and now I am going to draw his friends."
This was written by a younger me.
The earliest memory I have of drawing is this picture of Winnie the Pooh in first grade. I had copied it from one of my storybooks, a book that still sits on my bookshelf back in Kochi. I used to have that drawing too, but it was lost somewhere along the way during house moves.
I was a happy child who thrived on children’s books, a box of watercolours, sketch pens, and crayons. Like most kids, I was obsessed with cartoons from Disney to Looney Tunes to Scooby-Doo and all the other Hannah-Barbera shows. Naturally, I began recreating those characters on paper. Like Pooh’s “grand and wonderful day,” those days I spent drawing were wonderful, too.
My parents even arranged a drawing tutor for me at one point, but he mysteriously never returned after the first class. We never quite found out why. I can assure you I was a diligent student and did not do or say anything to drive him away!
By fifth grade, I had joined another school. During an open drawing competition, we were asked to draw a potted plant placed in front of us. I was the only student chosen from my class; the other four participants were older boys. My art teacher tried giving us instructions, but I was homesick (it was my first time away from my parents) and a little intimidated by the boys next to me. I asked to leave the competition.
I never thought much about it then, but now I wonder: what if I had stayed?
After that, I slowly began restricting my drawings ,and my stories and poems, to the back pages of my rough notebooks. More doodles than real drawings, really.
Ten years ago, I decided to showcase my writings on Instagram, and that step gave me the confidence to publish my first book in 2017. Writing is something I enjoy deeply and that comes easily to me, and over the years I’ve made it a part of who I am.
And yet, for a long time, I didn’t fully embrace the label “writer.” I thought I wasn’t professionally trained for it, so maybe I wasn’t one. I feel the same hesitation now in calling myself an artist.
Exactly one year after my baby was born, I decided to take art classes for the little girl in me who had always wanted to draw.
This time, I found myself immersing wholly into it, wanting to learn, re-learn, and practice. Each time I finish a sketch, I wonder, Did I really draw this? The same way I sometimes read my own posts and think, Did I really write this down?
A huge part of this renewed love for art is thanks to Ms. Samna, a wonderful tutor who is patient, encouraging, and passionate about art. She imparts that same love to her students, whether it’s through art or crochet, and her guidance has truly reignited my love for art.
That joy of creating, whether it’s with words or lines is incomparable.
We are given many labels in life, by ourselves and by others. But at this point, I’m not chasing labels.
I am writing.
I am sketching.
I am creating.
And, most importantly, I am still learning and I am sharing it all with you.
It’s never too late to start something new, whether it’s art, scuba diving, learning an instrument, or simply trying something you’ve always wanted to. The joy of trying for yourself is truly fulfilling.
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