Books and papers scattered on the floor, furniture pushed to the corners, racks, a television set, a music system and two study tables. What might come across as creative clutter in Amruta Patil’s room is actually a planned setting. “The lack of fixtures in the room gives me a feeling that permanence won’t hamper my mobility,” says Patil, graphic artist and novelist.

Patil is sketching while she discusses her studio. Suddenly we sit up to the loud noise outside. It’s dusk and the birds are returning home to the huge jamun tree that stands against the fence of Patil’s rented accommodation in New Delhi’s Hauz Khas Enclave. Almost one fourth of the tree’s canopy falls over her terrace and provides an excellent shade against the scorching heat. “It’s also lovely during rains and the winter mornings are simply amazing,” she exclaims.

Patil’s artistic world is limited to her desk. The table has an antique touch, which once again speaks of the artist’s creative sensibilities. The desk has a pile of thick volumes of the Upanishad, Mahabharata and other mythological books. Patil says the set changes depending on what she is working on. “All of them are related to my forthcoming mytho-historical graphic novel, Parva. A few days ago, the desk had a different selection altogether,” says Patil. Her first graphic novel Kari, a story of two lesbian lovers, recently hit bookshelves.

What makes Patil’s workspace interesting is the interesting play of light. While cane blinds covering the huge wall-to-wall windows allow a faint yellow light, the bright red Naga shawl, which doubles as a curtain to the terrace door, ushers in a pinkish hue. Further adding a mystic air is the metal wind chime, one of the few accessories in the room.

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