The following is an excerpt from Nishant Jain’s next book, for your reading pleasure. The working title of this book is The SneakyArt of Fatherhood.

I started drawing my son the day he was born.

I already knew that I wanted to draw him. Because to draw is an act of love. My first drawing is of him in the arms of the nurse, a couple of minutes after he is born. He is crying loudly. I know that this is a good thing.

Drawing is an exercise in attention given over time.

After many years of carrying a sketchbook through unfamiliar environments, I have learned that all the good things come from this - attention given over time. It is key to deep understanding. It is essential to engaging with curiosity. It is the foundation of great love.

***

Time is the most precious commodity I can give him as a parent. Already he has needed me at all hours of the day, and different hours of the night. For anything he may require, I must stand ready. This is a new feeling and, I suspect, an opportunity for mutual growth.

Silently and unexpectedly, this has shifted the axis of my universe. All the things of my life - the things I own, the things I love to do, my goals and aspirations, my ideas of productivity, the books waiting to be read on the shelf - are now secondary.  My universe revolves outside of my self. It centres around a little guy who wants milk, and love, and frequent diaper changes.

To draw Rohan is to notice his little micro-movements, poses, mannerisms, and see traces of myself, my wife, our parents, and even our extended families. Being ready with a sketchbook has led to recording some important memories. I watch how he moves, how he sees, and where his gaze lingers in his experience of this world that I provide for him.

I was drawing when he rolled over for the first time. I was drawing when he suddenly began crawling on elbows and knees. I was drawing before these things, when he would squirm in his sleep and suddenly stretch out with his hands to grab an imaginary branch. Scientists call this the Moro Reflex, a genetic remnant of our time as primates that we unlearn after a few months. 

I watch him and am fascinated by all the things he already is, all the personality that is already inside him, without the outside world intervening, without the influence of other people, without peer pressure and social anxiety and teasing and shame. All of that is in the future. But only a few weeks in, he is already a person.

This book is the story of our first year together. It is his first year as a person of this world. It is my first year as a parent responsible for a life.

We are both learning on the job.

There is so much to share with this book. Some things will be said with words. Others will be communicated in another language - of lines and shapes and colours - because no good words exist for those feelings and emotions. 

If a wonder of the world, or some great natural beauty, has rendered you speechless, you may know the feelings I am talking about. If you remember holding your baby for the first time, after watching your partner push through indescribable pain, you know these emotions. Some of the greatest experiences of life defy vocabulary or turn of phrase. This is why we have art in our lives. This is why this book, too, is full of drawings.

This book is dedicated to parents everywhere, and for those about to begin this great, beautiful journey of life. Your parents took it once, as did theirs. Everyone in the world, regardless of race, ethnicity, religion, skin colour, is connected by this thread. This thread is our shared humanity.

If you are a literary agent or publisher interested in getting in touch about this book project, please contact the author using the form below.