In the Grip of Our Own Minds: The Story Behind 'Silauta'

Sara Tunicha

By Sara Tunucha

Title: Smash Our Selves – "Silauta"

Medium: Acrylic and Charcoal on Canvas

Size: 24" x 32"

Year: 2021

Country: Nepal

Smash Our Selves – "Silauta": A Reflection of the Human Diary

Silauta

This painting, Silauta, was conceived in a period of global uncertainty and personal unrest. During the COVID-19 lockdown in Nepal, the world seemed to pause, but our internal storms grew louder. I, like many others, found myself alone with my thoughts raw, unfiltered, and often overwhelming. In that quiet chaos, this artwork took shape.

The Silauta, a traditional grinding stone used across South Asia, holds deep metaphorical value. It is an everyday household object-practical, humble, and familiar yet when viewed through the lens of human emotion and psychology, it transforms into a powerful symbol. Here, it represents the human mind being ground down by its own complexities. Pride, ego, unprocessed trauma, and restless thoughts-these are the invisible weights we carry, often heavier than the physical world around us.

The strokes of acrylic in this work are not calm or predictable. They are jagged, erratic, spontaneous-mirroring the instability of the human psyche when it spirals out of control. Charcoal, with its ashy texture and ancient quality, brings a grounded realism to the chaos. It reminds us of our roots, our dust-to-dust existence, and how even in pain, there is something universal and timeless.

A Personal Storm in a Global Crisis

In the isolation of lockdown, we all faced ourselves. There were no distractions, no excuses. For many, it was the first time truly confronting their inner dialogue. For me, it felt like watching my own mind grind itself into pieces like spices on the silauta, crushed by a force we often believe is external but is, in truth, internal.

Creating this painting became a catharsis. The canvas listened when people couldn't. It absorbed my fears when I couldn’t speak them. Through it, I sought to give form to formless anxiety, color to invisible pain, and clarity to chaotic emotion.

The Wider Metaphor: Society Grinding Itself

Beyond personal emotion, Silauta speaks to collective human behavior. We live in a paradox: hyper-connected yet emotionally fragmented. Instead of supporting one another in times of crisis-be it pandemic, war, injustice, or climate disaster-we often turn on each other. Blame becomes easier than accountability. Anger becomes louder than empathy.

The Silauta here isn't just a head under mental strain. It's a society eating itself alive, crumbling under the weight of its own ignorance and divisiveness. Each stroke in the painting becomes a voice in a crowded room, shouting but not listening. Each charcoal smudge a memory of compassion lost in translation.

Cultural Roots, Universal Meaning

Choosing the silauta as a central metaphor wasn't random. As someone rooted in Nepalese culture, the object carries nostalgia, utility, and generational memory. It connects to mothers and grandmothers grinding spices for food that nourished our bodies and souls. Yet now, it grinds thoughts instead of seeds, confusion instead of cardamom.

By giving the silauta a human form, I blurred the line between object and observer, past and present, tradition and introspection. The message is simple but profound: if we don't confront our inner chaos, it will grind us down just as surely as that stone crushes grain.

Art as Reflection and Resistance

Art, to me, is a form of protest-but not always loud or overt. Sometimes it whispers. Sometimes it grieves. In Silauta, art becomes an act of survival. It reflects not just an individual’s mental breakdown, but a collective existential crisis. It is a reminder that healing requires acknowledgment, and acknowledgment begins with self-awareness.

Through this work, I also hope to challenge the idea that suffering should be hidden. There is beauty in vulnerability. There is strength in expressing fear. And there is deep wisdom in allowing art to say what words cannot.

An Invitation to the Viewer

As you look at Silauta, I ask you to pause not just your scrolling, but your assumptions. Ask yourself: what am I grinding in my own silauta? What unprocessed emotions lie under the surface? How have I contributed to the collective chaos, and how can I help soothe it instead?

Let the painting confront you. Let it hold a mirror to your own thoughts. And above all, let it be a starting point-for conversation, for healing, for change.

Thank you for being part of this journey. Art does not end on the canvas-it continues in the mind of the one who engages with it.

*Guest post