Of Cabbages and Kings

October 29, 2008

Protected: Learning to draw

Filed under: Uncategorized — Chinmayi @ 11:57 pm

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October 28, 2008

snow

Filed under: Uncategorized — Chinmayi @ 10:27 pm

I burst out of the subway into what I thought was rain and little white flakes drifted down…on my coat, my eyelashes. Snow is really as beautiful as music. It is also as cold as hell. Especially if you are wearing thin cloth shoes and are barehanded. Ten minutes later, a fascinated girl with frozen fingers and soggy feet stumbled into her warm hall of residence. 

I am lookng out of my window right now. The night has shrouded the magical drift but there is a white carpet on the roofs below my window to remind me that I was not dreaming.

October 25, 2008

Misogynists’ anctics

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — Chinmayi @ 9:52 pm

Here’s something funny. There’s a man that is so anti-women that he actually spend all his time suing all the organisations that offer women concessions. Perhaps next year he’ll sue God for having priveledged women by allowing them and only them to bear children.

October 24, 2008

Mackinnon is for Obama

Filed under: Uncategorized — Chinmayi @ 12:57 am

I had almost lost faith in the women’s movement having made the acquaitance of so much of the swagger and blind herd-mentality that claims to be part of it. And then two days back, I heard its Queen speak. And she is absolutely fabulous. 

Someone asked Catherine Mackinnon what she though of Sarah Palin. “I weep for her education”, she said but then went on to describe Palin’s spirit, warmth and courage and to say how much she admired her (even though she would not want her as vice-president this time).

I find that three days later, without denigrating women, she has held the movement to the dignity that it should rightfully have – she has written about why Obama is the way forward.

PS – This is a slack phase. I am still settling into the new city and the new life. Give me a few weeks…

October 14, 2008

And the Booker goes to…

Filed under: Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — Chinmayi @ 9:54 pm

Aravind Adiga. I can’t say I approve, but what the heck… I’ll save what I never thought would be a valuable first edition copy for my descendants.

October 13, 2008

Stepping into the pages

Filed under: Fiction — Chinmayi @ 10:10 pm

Cobblestones she had seen in her imagination… grey and smooth from years of horse-hoof and carriage clatter. She had peered at them in old grainy films that were aired late at night in her country.

Suddenly real cobblestones were stretched out before her. She reached one foot out gently, almost tenderly, wishing that she was barefoot at this moment and that moonlight drenched the stones instead of the muddy blotches of sunlight that lying about the street.

She closed her eyes. Bathed in moonlight, a mysterious and beautiful woman laid a dainty foot on the cobblestones.

October 12, 2008

The faces of racism

Filed under: Personal — Tags: , , , — Chinmayi @ 6:05 pm

can be any colour, size or shape. 

A brown girl looks up from the kebabs she is devouring in my kitchen and tells me that I should avoid all “black” men. She narrates how she (amidst a large group) passed a “black” man on an empty street late at night and was very relieved to note that the law enforcement authorities were doing their duty by aggressively interrogating and harassing the “black” man. That’ll teach them not to loiter, said the girl smugly. I was concerned – I pointed out that the man may well have been taking an innocent stroll like she was. But she wouldn’t have it – they  are always up to something and you should watch them carefully, she said.

Today, I went to visit a friend at Grosvenor House. Pudding clutched in one hand, the other hand balancing a mobile phone against my ear, I rang my friend so that she could come down and let me in. The door buzzed open. I waited because I knew that the Halls of Residence are not supposed to allow guests in unless residents come to claim responsibility for them. As I was waiting for my friend to answer the phone, a man opened the door and looked at me expectantly. I walked in and I thanked him. Immediately after, my friend picked up the phone. After my conversation, I looked up and noticed that a(nother) man behind the counter at the reception desk seemed to be addressing me a little aggressively. He announced that they (presumably employees of Grosvenor House) were not waiters and that I had to open the door myself in this country. He said it slowly, and several times, like people do in movies when they are addressing tribals on a newly discovered island. This may have been forgivable under other circumstances, but I look like a student and I was visiting a postgraduate London School of Economics residence – I do not think that no-speak-english-foreigner was really the most obvious inference to be made in that particular situation.

He repeated his concluding remark (“Do you understand?”) loudly and several times as if in addition to lacking basic comprehension of the language, I was also an idiot. I was tempted to inform him that while I was aware that waiting on people was not traditional England (or at least not London colleges) , I was under the impression that chivalry certainly was customary. My friend arrived while I was still reeling from the experience and so I said nothing. I wonder if it was the right thing to do.

October 8, 2008

Nyoockyuler

Filed under: Uncategorized — Chinmayi @ 10:59 pm

is how Sarah Palin pronounces nuclear. Hmm…what do you suppose it will mean for the world if the americans go elect themselves a VP that can’t even pronounce nuclear?

The Tina Fey Parody of the VP debate (and might I add that Palin leaves very little need for exaggeration):

October 2, 2008

A feminist revolution in India skips the liberation

Filed under: Uncategorized — Chinmayi @ 10:04 am

Finally! Something that describes this disturbing phenomenon that I have witnessed for five years of law school and two years after.

Like many educated Indian women whose credit-card bills transfer seamlessly from a father to a husband, Arshi and her friends have good jobs and toil at them, but have a somewhat recreational view of work. When Arshi walks into a Delhi fashion designer’s home, enchanted by his white sofas and plasma television, she does not think, “I should go buy this stuff.” She thinks of marrying him, “just so I could make that house my home.”…

Indian feminism is the feminism of compromise. It is the feminism of daughters who press their parents for late curfews, but would never hurt them by dating a man of another religion. It is the feminism of women who collect big paychecks by day, but do not question husbands who treat them like maids by night. It is the feminism of women who cope privately with workplace harassment, but never see it as a systemic phenomenon to be fought.

Read the rest here.

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