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 so often in his. But why that soulless headline? This is probably why Garcia Marquez said that journalists should read more fiction – someone who’d read Manto would never have written that headline.
In other news, my time is being vacuum- cleaned by god knows what. Suddenly, there is too much to do and suddenly I am only watching Sex and the City. It’s January already which means it’s not long before Pink Tabebuias on the tree outside my house start blooming and falling – not long before Meta comes and goes, not long before I whine about Orion Mall and BIFFES – not long before BQFF – and definitely not long before I am 31.
I wore a damn saree to celebrate turning 30 but mostly as tribute to Savitri Mai’s extra saree. Because last year’s best lesson was that cow dung is best fought with an extra saree.
My blog carries an extra saree more than I do because it gets attacked with more cow dung than I. It changes sarees like my mouma does – lazily, quickly, and effortlessly.
People who really want to engage don’t carry around cow dung. It’s a good thing that so much of Savarna opinion is unoriginal which means it’s the same old ghissapita flavor of cow dung which hasn’t changed since 2014. They are either saying my writing is childish and exaggerating or pointless and patronising. Basically if I was fair, smiled liked an angel, had an irresistible Brahmin charm – they would be writing poems for me by now, and because I would be considered an equal – being patronised wouldn’t be a problem.
But really – can’t you at least throw something of a challenge along with the cow dung?Even so, my blog likes wearing shimmering pink sarees with small mirrors on the border, and bright yellow bandhani sarees with backless blouses. In a small bag, it carries a plain cotton one – the color of cow dung.
Some nice things happened in November – I realised that what I have really wanted since 16 was to be independent. It has taken me 14 years but it is finally beginning to feel like it’s happening – I am 16 again. It’s like coming home and finding myself waiting all these years.
And then, more answers began falling – a mad writing energy took over, First Post asked me to write columns for them (!) and I found new love for podcasts and poetry.
Everything is moving too fast, like news on Twitter – and like always I must come back to my blog to breathe.
I can’t help but recollect that when I began writing for The Ladies Finger – I wrote about what I really only care about – films, TV shows, and books. I wish I could go back to doing that. It’s where I learnt everything I know today. They took me seriously as a writer and made me believe that I am more than my caste. This is something that other news websites and magazines should probably learn – you only notice us when some burning caste issue takes over and suddenly Dalit women are in demand to write. It’s not a nice thing to do.
That’s why I am thrilled about writing columns. I am waiting to write about Sara Ali Khan, Mrs. Maisel, food and gossip.
Much of last semester was spent at home with my damn foot in a plaster. Probably a valuable lesson – I now watch where I am walking. Something else that I began seeing only lately is the idea that sharing is anti-Brahmanical – whether it’s knowledge of what you are reading/writing or what Tejas Harad thoughtfully did here by sharing what he wrote last year and how much he was paid – sharing essentially breaks down a system that benefits from keeping knowledge and money a secret.
Here are a bunch of things I read/listened to/ wrote:
- The Mill on the Floss (going back to it now) – George Eliot
- How Proust Can Change Your Life –
- The year of Magical Thinking -Joan Didion
- Normal People – Sally Rooney
- Wild – Cheryl Strayed
- Essays by Rebecca Solnit
- Essays and poems by Patricia Lockwood
- Poems by Dorianne Laux
- The Neighbourhood – Mario Vargas Llosa
- Two Novellas – Paul Zacharia
- A book review for The Open Dosa – A review of Mother steals a bicycle and other stories
- A report for The Open Dosa – What happened when Bengaluru’s working class women had a #MeToo meeting?
- An op-ed for First Post – Jack, what the hack: The absurd outrage of Brahmins against Twitter CEO
- An interview feature of Sujatha Gidla – In her words, and mine: Getting to know Ants Among Elephants’ award-winning author Sujatha Gidla
- A column on Maltirao Baudh- ‘Marenge toh manch pe marenge’: Experiencing love and finding answers in Maltirao Baudh’s songs
- Co-written with Sharmishta for News 18 – If ‘Untouchability’ at Sabarimala Makes You Angry, Then Welcome to the World of Dalit Women
I used to think that translation was effort, time, and energy. But it’s a whole other joy to get to know translation as an act of intimacy and love more than anything else. The Maltirao piece was translated to Hindi by Rahul Paswan and to Tamil by LJ Violet.
Paswan’s translation is much better than the faltu English original. Reading it in Hindi gives it another kind of energy altogether. If I could read Tamil, I am sure I would say the same about LJ Violet’s piece. Needless to say, the Maltirao piece is not mine anymore – it is theirs.
Here are a bunch of other things I am excited about –
- Listening to Stitcher every morning
- Getting back to riding
- French press coffee
- Sex and the City
- Sara Ali Khan
- Teaching Wordsworth for Research Seminar
- At the Atta Galata event, Mandi said ‘Own your words’ – and I am now learning to stand tall and read out my work proudly.
- Making time to write fiction
- Reading Clifford Geertz
- Writing academic paper proposals
- ‘It was Gold’
- Teasing the idea of a PhD on Joan Didion
- Watching the stunning Living Smile Vidya speak so boldly here
- Watching this Trevor Noah interview again and again – reminds me of mouma.
- Owning days – especially weekends
- Wearing sarees. I have always wanted to wear it the way Namsiess does.
- Understanding quizzes as narrative
- Wondering if there is more to math than numbers – understanding math as narrative too
- One Sunday I talked about Pariyerum Perumal for The Lewd Cabal podcast run by a bunch of enthu tamil boys. I was nervous. I don’t think I made sense but I enjoyed being on the show
- Every time I return from Dilli, and my AIDMAM sisters, I feel like I have become a better version of myself. This time, Asha Zech taught me to be less angry – nodkolona, aagatte (let us see, it will happen) she says about everything.
Through this all, I think I am close to understanding what Joan Didion meant when she said ‘Remember what it is to be me, that is always the point’