Recycling glass bottles became a fun creative activity on a whim this year I’d say. If I see potential for art and recycling, I take it, no matter what the medium.

But this hobby also became a theme of a writing submission I made to one of the competitions I partook in while I was still vehla earlier this year and had buffer time to figure what I actually want to do, where I want to live, and other conundrums of life (basically routine existential dread all millenials feel, lol, except I am not physically fit enough to sign up for a marathon and an airfryer was something I had already had my shot at pre-covid)

This writing submission only won me a participation certificate for this specific competition but nonetheless I thought it was a good piece of personal self-expression I could atleast self-publish on my blog, even though it didn’t get picked up by the India Writing Project people.

Here’s the submission and scroll all the way to the end to see some more actual recycled glass bottle vases (minus the metaphors)

It was just another day in Deutschland as an expat, as I pondered at the empty glass bottles, segregating them by color and kind, deciding on which ones would be good to paint on(versus which to toss into recycling). These weekend housekeeping shifts were once cannabis infused, which made me ponder over the impending brush strokes I’d be making on the sparkling pink rose lemonade bottle from last night, for minutes to hours on end. But now I have to make do with the ‘high’ off of my mogra incense cone, coffee, and recent retail therapy purchase, as I have bid adieu to this favorite herb of mine, at least until I retire, as for now it has served its purpose in my life.

Also because I’d just spent a few months doing sabbatical in my small hometown of Punjab, until I could nurse my mom back to health, post her shoulder and elbow fracture. Time spent in that town renewed my will and gusto to be an independent woman, so much so that it is enough for me not to need substances to help me relax after my big girl job in a different continent. Because I learned why I left this city in the first place all over again.

I am still a little scared that this new found energy may vanish as up until my 20s, I moved furniture and houses across several American states just fine but as soon as I hit 30, having to move furniture and assemble Ikea couches leads to a mean lower back ache that makes the strong independent feminist evaporate right out of my body.

Also isn’t it human nature to become complacent as soon as you get a hold of something valuable and precious? I experienced that in other people too, especially men, like that one friend who claimed to have been awestruck by me since he saw me score the highest marks in 10th grade boards, only to become extra mean and condescending when I shared my work woes with him as an adult. Or the guy who made several attempts to get a hold of me, doing everything from sending me a thoughtful but plagiarized poem to double triple quadruple texting me on a dating app for over a year until I finally agreed for a date, only to treat me like a doormat as soon as I was achieved by him. Why must we devalue something when it’s fully ours? Perhaps because its human instinct to pick at something as soon as it reveals its vulnerable and cumbersome side to us. We abandon beautiful flowers when they shed extra sap on our fingers, making them slimy and sticky while we pluck them. I hope I don’t do the same with my next job that I worked so hard to get. One foot-out-the-door strategy didn’t bode well for me the last time around, wherein I give up each time a male(and/or Indian) peer made an innocuous comment about how I seem more of a creative to them which is why they don’t see me as an analyst, which is a statement that lives rent free in my head, especially each time I am already struggling with a code.

“Switch to paint brushes instead of python, maybe Anand was right” - my weakened self-doubting morale tells me, only to discover that all I was missing was not brain ambidexterity but a semicolon to complete my code. “Why must I internalize every comment made about me?” - I think. “Does Anand ask his male friends to stick to their gaming consoles, dslr, electric guitar, {insert-male-creative-outlet}, when they are overwhelmed by a compiling error?” I think not.

Its funny how I flee my country at 20 for a more holistic western education system so I didn’t have to be around teachers, bosses, and peers who impose such limiting cookie cutter conventions and beliefs, especially on women in STEM fields, only to discover Indians have monopoly over tech in every part of the world, which is why I have to be extra cautious about who to share my paintings and writings with, especially in the the fun-fact-about-me part of tech onboardings. “I think it’s just in your head, because even as a non-STEM major career-transitioning into tech, the community has been rather warm and receptive” - says that one English major who is now a frontend engineer. I wish I had the courage to tell her that Rahooool and Akheeel from her office treat her and me very differently. Just like that anecdote shared by another South Asian friend who was pissed that her in-laws give preferential treatment to their Swedish daughter in-law during Eid visits, by asking her, the desi bahu, to help in the kitchen, and not the European one.

Maybe I should wear a simple black hoodie and blue jeans and not my bootleg velvet checkered pants and checkered vans on days when there is more likelihood of running into Anands of the office - I ponder. But then wouldn’t I be going against the ethos of Girls Who Code, the organization where I interned for two summers, to help close the gender gap in technology.

I think what I need to do is not quit being stylish or abandon all creative self expression to succeed in corporate tech but to actually learn how to be more confident and assertive. To master the balance of line between making people feel they need to walk on eggshells around me v/s walking all over me, exuding the former in majority of the situations if I really had to pick one of the two.

And isn’t that what I am doing by painting these glass bottles in a nutshell? Giving them a new identity of a flower vase instead of the kombucha carrier it once was.

As I stand back and admire the transformation of an ordinary glass bottle into a vibrant vase, I realize that this simple act of creation embodies my journey. Just like the glass bottle, I have been reshaped and repurposed through my experiences, from being a topper in a small town in Punjab to a STEM major at a liberal arts school in middle-of-nowhere Missouri to the tech hubs of the Western world. Each brushstroke on the glass symbolize the resilience and creativity that define me, the South Asian woman navigating the complexities of tech and self-expression.

The same way I refuse to discard these bottles, choosing instead to highlight their potential, I must refuse to let societal stereotypes box me into a corner. Whether it’s painting or coding, my passions are not mutually exclusive but rather parts of a whole that make me unique. The mogra incense cone that now fuels my creativity, the steadfast support I offer my mother, and the ambition that drives me in my career—all these elements are intertwined.

I’ve learned that true strength lies not in abandoning one part of myself for another but in embracing and integrating them. The world may be quick to categorize us, to limit us to a single narrative, but it’s our choice to redefine those limits, just as I’ve redefined these bottles.

Every challenge, every doubting voice, and every move across continents has only added layers to my identity, much like the layers of paint on these bottles. And in these layers, there is beauty, resilience, and a story worth telling—a story that continues to evolve with each new brushstroke and line of code.

So, as I place the final stroke on the bottle, I know that this is not just about creating a beautiful vase. It’s about reclaiming my narrative and demonstrating that I can be both analytical and creative, a coder and an artist. In this synthesis lies my true self, unconfined and unapologetically whole.