Against #MeToo- Rape Culture in 31 Tweets

My entire Facebook and Twitter feed is full of #metoo posts. Almost every woman on my friend list has been assaulted, harassed, or molested at some point in her life. Some of them wondered if their story was too “trivial” or “unimportant” to share. Some of them wondered yet again if what happened was indeed…

Bovinity: Original Sin

In conversation with Kesari, the woman who turned into a Cow… Kesari is the queen of his heart. Strong, sturdy, fair as milk, and expensive like a diamond from Ghaziabad’s most renowned jeweler, she is everything a man could hope for– Cash cow extraordinaire. That’s Kesari for you. But she wasn’t always a cow. She was…

The Rohingya Refugee Crisis- Myanmar

“We ran away from Burma to avoid the bad things they do to girls.” -Mazeda, a  12-year-old Rohingya child in a refugee relief camp in New Delhi They are stateless people who are not recognized by the Myanmar government as legitimate citizens anymore The Rohingya people claim a centuries-old lineage in Rakhine, but according to…

Yogi Adityanath- The Undoing of UP

I was thousands of miles away from home, more concerned about Donald Trump’s radioactive visa policies than the various state elections in India. Of course, as a politically conscious person, I was keeping one ear on the results, but no amount of preparation readied me for the news that tore through my eardrums from across…

Entertainment Journalism and its guilty secret: Fat Kink – A Rant

“OMG, You won’t believe what (insert name of female star) wore to this event (Oscars, Grammys, UN Conference). Honestly, sweetie, you need to put that cookie jar aside….” Yes. That is exactly how many articles about celebrities and their lives go. The time peg could be anything; an event like the Oscars or said celebrity’s appearance…

Trans women are women. Period.

The world has always found ways to narrow down the definition of a woman. If one is too fat to be a real woman, another is too skinny. If one is too aggressive, another is much too coy. It is absurd that something as basic as who someone is, must be defined by qualities they should…

A silent storm: Irom Sharmila

“Irom fasted for 16 long years, in the hope that her suffering would bring change. She broke her fast last year when she realized that she needed to find another way in the face of the establishment’s indifference. She contested elections this month and received only 90 votes, as opposed to her opponent, Okram Ibobi Singh,…

The Absurdity of International Women’s Day

I am a fantasy of your lonely nights, Two breasts and a butt; A hole to fuck, For all days of the year but one. My intellect is a mark Of my unattractive androgyny. My sass is too ugly. Your macho instincts need A coy little lamb, For all days of the year but this….

The Handmaiden of Hari: Meerabai

“Unbreakable, O Lord,  Is the love  That binds me to You:  Like a diamond,  It breaks the hammer that strikes it.  My heart goes into You  As the polish goes into the gold.  As the lotus lives in its water,  I live in You.  Like the bird  That gazes all night  At the passing moon, …

Why I cannot forgive Modi

In 2014, when Narendra Modi became the prime minister, many of my friends rejoiced. They were hopeful that he would usher in a new era of economic development, an abundance of jobs,  an end to black money, stringency towards corrupt businessmen and politicians, among other fairly amazing things. One of my dad’s employees distributed sweets…

A healer of history’s wounds: Florence Nightingale

I was seven when I first heard of her. There was a short story in my Hindi language reader, about a young girl who nursed a sick puppy back to health. The illustration was of a little girl with pigtails, wearing a red dress. And the book said that she was on her way home…

A Teacher of Imagination: Enid Blyton

  I remember thinking about passing my good turn to someone, after reading Enid Blyton’s story, ‘The Good Turn.’ I was eleven, and I was in love with my new favorite author. I read all the stories from The Eight O’Clock Tales to my little sister who was only four. And even though I don’t think…