In my last post, I had raised a few questions for the readers' consideration. In their attempt to answer the questions, a reader had posed a volley of counter questions - "Don't they do it? The other castes? Don't Dalits ask for reservation in the name of caste? Don't they seek protection in the name of …
Caste in my living room – 2
When I began with the series on casteism, I expected it to go unnoticed, like many other posts in the blog. A handful have read through the post, which is fantastic, and they'd taken the effort to convey their views to me personally, which is even better. I have been speaking on this issue for …
Caste in my living room – 1
As someone born into the “upper caste”, I have been gluttonously oblivious about the travesty of caste hierarchy in India in the first few years of my life. There is guilt and shame for the ignorance, but that is now, after being introduced to the reality. Being young and a female probably added to the …
Kurinji – Floods, Arts and Madras
On 11th December, 2015, exactly 10 days after the massive floods that ravaged through Chennai city, I hopped into a bus to Reteri from High Court. I plugged the earphones into my ears and skipped through one song after another, for no song could appease my mood. The bus bobbed up and down through the …
Tribhanga
Artist: Jamini Roy, 1943 Twelve years, does it count for anything? Anything at all? The polished mirror with its intricate wooden carvings had stood the ruthlessness of time. Kannagi ran her fingers over the chiseled wood, tracing the sturdy wooden roses, wooden jasmines, wooden climbers and their wooden leaves. She carefully avoided stumbling upon her …
Correspondence
Prelude: Set in the pre-independent era, two men, one a feisty Bengali and the other a rebellious Tamizh, share the moments from their life and times, through words, hued with utmost respect, patriotic vigour and a tinge of poetry. Presenting a series of moving handwritten letters, as seen from the vantage point of one of …
Bokeh
He didn’t realize he killed the engine. The deep-red-coloured-stuffed-heart dangling from the key chain swung violently as he stepped out of the car. The beach wore a deserted look, as expected. He couldn’t have noticed if a dinosaur roared past him in that night drenched in darkness. His eyes were blinded by tears. He floated …
Please
It was a moonless night. Sita was sitting alone in the garden; her head tossed back, legs crossed, feet moving without any sense of pattern. She didn’t want to accept to herself, but, she was anticipating him. She even drove away her maids. The familiar footsteps greeted her. She did not smile; she had not …
தென்தமிழக பயணம்
பொதுவாகவே தமிழகத்தின் வடக்குமுகத்தில் வசிப்பவர்களுக்கு தென்தமிழகத்தின் அடியாழத்தில் நீந்த வேண்டும் என்ற ஆவல் இருக்கும். என்னுடைய நெடுநாள் ஆசையும் அது தான். காரணம், சுந்தர ராமசாமி, நாஞ்சில் நாடன், ஜெயமோகன், வைக்கம் முஹம்மது பஷீர் போன்றோர்களினால் எனக்கு அறிமுகமான சேர நாட்டின் எழில். கலைப் படைப்பு என்றாலே அதில் ஒரு துளியேனும் மிகை பொதிந்திருக்கும். மிகையும் யதார்த்த உலகும் ஒன்றும் புள்ளி ஒரு கனவு நிலை. நானும், நண்பர் எஸ்ஸும் அப்படி ஒரு கனவுலகை எதிர்நோக்கியே மூன்று …
Life-size Raindrop
Poet Manushyaputhiran’s “Aaluyara Mazhaiththuli” (ஆளுயர மழைத்துளி), translated. Tiny and huge,raindrops, galore. A life-size raindropwalkson the rainy road. Walking besidethousands and thousandsof raindropsavoiding getting drenched,holding the haft of the cloth,it scurries pastbeneath a little umbrella. Even youmust be going behindone of those life-size raindropsknowing well thatit will meltthe momentyou set your eyes. Yet,in the moment preceding,you surrender your …
