Franny & Toni

Spent all of last week scrounging through everything Fran Lebowitz wrote and spoke. Read Beloved and came to discover Toni Morrison as a lot closer to me than I’d anticipated. My body is filled with her words and I’m letting them sleep inside as long as I can hold them there. But the better discoveryContinue reading “Franny & Toni”

R for Reading

My memory of watching Appa read is soaked in the sound of his laughter. I cannot separate the two. He’d have a ಬೀchi (Beechi) book open on his stomach, his back straight, his fingers firm on the spine. When he began laughing, the room had to hold its breath. His belly moving, his body shaking,Continue reading “R for Reading”

What 2019 taught me

At a Gender Bender panel last year, Paromita Vohra said that paying attention to something was a way of loving it. It was a truth that I could hold in my hands for hours — and be struck with its simple marvels for a long time after. 2019 was great, funny, curious, strange, and sad.Continue reading “What 2019 taught me”

What 2018 taught me

This news story from yesterday cheered me up. “I was feeling cold and I thought Ambedkar would be feeling the same, and therefore I have covered him with a blanket and lit a bonfire near the statue” This is the sort of story that Gabito would have loved – the sort that Manto showed us soContinue reading “What 2018 taught me”

Listening to Dorianne Laux: Pause. Poetry

Reading Dorianne Laux’s poems is like taking in a deep breath and realizing that your lungs have never been used this way before – that all these days, you have wasted their capacity to hold, and you begin to worry – now that you have discovered it – this late in life – is thereContinue reading “Listening to Dorianne Laux: Pause. Poetry”

The one where Gabito screws me over again

I won’t lie. Even when I was imagining my grand reading plan for the 2 month long break, I didn’t believe it, which is why I must have imagined it in lovely colors like the orange of a Bangalore evening and the red of Mangalore mud. Even so, a girl can hope. Especially a girlContinue reading “The one where Gabito screws me over again”

Many White Women, One White Man, and Perumal Murugan

I can recollect the last six years of my life only in semesters. No other measurement makes sense. The last time I did this, I was less obsessed with archiving. Even so, this still remains the only reliable way of dealing with the guilt of not writing about the books I read this semester. The ProfessorContinue reading “Many White Women, One White Man, and Perumal Murugan”

P for Political. A for Aadhar

Sometime in the month of October, I wondered if my blog was developing a certain direction. It’s because I read and wrote more about caste than I have about anything else this year. A lot of my posts and essays this year were attempts at making sense of my life, work, and relationships and IContinue reading “P for Political. A for Aadhar”

Tuesday, 6:45 pm, Department

Alison Bechdel, Virginia Woolf, Nagraj Manjule Strange day. Finished reading Alison Bechdel’s ‘Are you My Mother?’ this morning. She took me to Woolf like no one else has – not even Woolf herself. Bechdel’s dream sequences are told and drawn with so much ferocity that they begin to seep into the non -dream sequences asContinue reading “Tuesday, 6:45 pm, Department”