Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts

Friday, 27 January 2023

Tiers, Tears and Birthday Fears

I remember cheerful birthdays with sweets for friends, games, and gifts. Each age was like a level-up punctuated with the sound of Mario grabbing a coin. As the number went up, you unlocked more. Freedoms, understanding, more of your own capacity, skills, and trust. Age was a friend, everyone did keep saying I ‘had it on my side.’

Something happened once I completed my two decades on this planet. People expect birthdays to come with an impending sense of doom. Level-ups aren’t full of new cool outfits and power-ups, they are instead a countdown to a boss fight. Who is this boss? Am I prepared for it? All questions for later I guess.


Enough has been written about the lists, the Forbes, the under 20s, 30s, and whatnot. The race they create. A race against your peers. One that, alright, some can win. A race against time. Now, this is one that ticks me off. I seem to be running in the race, but time seems to be running out faster. 


I don’t want it. I have never been much of a runner. No, thank you. 


The world we live in expects us to achieve the world within the second decade of life. Capitalism wants all of my fun hobbies turned into money-minting professions, or at the very least content. 


My relatives use my birthday as a twofold marker. One to remind themselves ‘Haaye, how time passes no?’ Two to remind me what all I should have gotten done by now ‘By your age, I was married.’ ‘I had a kid at your age.’ ‘I had a full-time job and a family.’ Okay woah, overachievers, good on you. Most of these are not on my cards or priorities for some time. 


I did not ask for the gift of existence, on most days I don’t even like it much. But I will celebrate it how I want. 


I am opting out of the race. I would rather hand out water and bananas on the sidelines. Maybe I’ll paint a terrible still-life of the banana which can neither be sold nor used as content. Who knows.


I like growing older. It still feels like levelling up somewhere. I don’t understand the ‘I am forever young, forever 18.’ of random Indian uncles and aunties. I would never want to be 18 again. I never want to be any of the ages I have already crossed. I know too much now, I have grown too much and I have too much to ever go back.


I want to look forward to ageing. A supposed big bad wolf, Ageing, a boss fight along with Time. I want to experience my body changing and cut it slack for literally keeping me alive. I do not want to employ the magnifying glass that media, magazines, and the internet keep handing out to women. I will not look through this glass. Ageing is beautiful and I would like to see the proof of all of the years I have spent on this usually terrible planet.  


This year, the only fears I want are whether I have learned enough, whether I have loved enough, and whether I have had experiences that have planted themselves in my heart. I want to feel my growth like vines climbing up walls. 


I will continue levelling up, and Mario will get the coin (at his own pace of course!). No countdowns or races that I am predetermined to lose.  


Friday, 30 December 2022

The Coil

The Coil is an independent literary magazine by the Alternating Current Press. Here are some of the reviews and interviews I did for them.


Lady Aviators in the Men’s Club

A review of 'Fly Girls' in which Keith O’Brien tells the untold story of five women who dared compete against the men in the high-stakes air races of the 1920s and ’30s.


Defying the Odds

An interview with Keith O'Brien the author of 'Fly Girls' about his writing process, routine, research for the book, and its modern relevancy.


Searing Commentary on Society

A review of 'White Dancing Elephants'. On Chaya Bhuvaneswar’s stories which explore the power dynamics of assault, queer relationships, sexism, racism, and societal structures.


Messes & Ambiguities

In conversation with Dev Jannerson, the poet and novelist on their book 'Thanks for Nothing'. 


On Anna Prushinskaya’s Essays

A review of Prushinskaya’s essays on a woman’s flight through childbearing. 



Teen Belle Magazine

Teen Belle Magazine was introduced to the world in 2019 with the aim, "flourish, educate, and rebel".  A volunteer-based magazine. It was founded by Sam, one of the best poets I knew and the nicest person to work with. 

Here are the articles I wrote for them. 


A Mirror in a Doll's House

A review of A Doll’s House, a three-act play by Henrik Ibsen. Published in 1879, at a time when the first wave of feminism was hitting the shore, the Norwegian playwright’s work brought about extensive debates about ‘The Woman Question’. 


Ghosts in the Archives

Exploring the 'male as norm' principle and the erasure of women in history. A brief exploration of the Matilda Effect. 


A brief history of women's cricket in India.


Women Led Movements : The Spirit Comes Naturally

Protests and strikes led by women along with how their rebellion interacts with patriarchy.


Marble and Pedestals: Of Accountability and Symbolism

The toppling of statues that 2020 saw, the symbolism of demolition and accountability in history. 


Tuesday, 10 November 2020

w i t c h e s

every neighbourhood houses witches

the last brick house down the lane

wild women with unruly hair

looking out of their windowpane


sharp dagger-like tongues

cutting curses deep in your skin

stay away, you warn little children

and whisper to your next of kin


tornadoes decorate the corners of their house

swirling dark clouds of anger and cries

they'll fight you on rent

the air chilly in their vents


cracks in the elevator shaft

leaking wisps of strength, adding on weights you could never hope to lift


raging thunderclaps sound

when you smoothly ask for the ring to be passed

to the man of the house

in whose blood you think these women are doused


they don't attend your fairs

or your warm bonfires

maybe because they're afraid you'll burn them on the pyre


finally a neighbourhood

where no witches are alive

though i hear their voices

in my own exasperated sighs


i look in the mirror

to find, the witch that was cursed 

now resides inside


the brick melted into smooth blinding silver

like a lake of my 'sins' 

stay away, you warn little children

and whisper to your next of kin





Wednesday, 1 April 2020

letters


i used to write letters
on carefully picked papers
with specific stationery 

i loved signing them off
yours 
yours faithfully
yours truly
yours sincerely
something about belonging 
to others felt right
being known in connection
because somehow i was never really mine

dont get me wrong
i love (loved) the people i wrote for 

i thought i could stack words 
on top of one another
and call it a person
that the long lists
of 'yours' would make me one

but i cannot

people are too many words 
to fit on a page or eight

i felt this need to 
romanticise relationships
write them in ink
to be able to feel them

dont get me wrong (again)
i love the art of crafting letters

thinking of words 
putting them together
handmaking envelopes 

but i cannot

because paper trails 
don't do justice 
to constellations

i used to write letters 
to 'my future self'
hoping she was better

but i cannot

split myself in three
a past, present, future, me


i will still write letters
on carefully picked papers
with specific stationery

but i will not
sign them off with a


yours sincerely






Saturday, 25 January 2020

Teenagery Musings Before I Complete Two Decades: Boxes and Rooms

I am not one
To go back to messages exchanged
Words typed and backspaced
Emotions behind dimly lit screens 

But when I do
It feels like unpacking packed boxes
Ones lost (forgotten? lost? forgotten?)
While shifting 
towns, 
homes,
and rooms

With a friend's comforting words 
In a city lost in blurs
The only extension of home 
In a city that is not mine 
Like a landline 
With the spiralling cord holding my legs
Rooting me back in the ground

Soft voices
In 8 minute tracks
Warm white light
Washing faces at 2 A.M.
Laughter in spells of sleep
Love? Comfort?

An almost room 
With a name on top

Songs sent back and forth
Photographs
Conversations of 'facts'
Stars
Flowers
Poetry
Boxes that should be tagged 'miss'cellaneous

Misspelt words
Written through watering eyes
Desperately reaching out
Badly worded texts
With pruned fingers
Waddling through the drowning water

Traces of terrified fingers
Typing naive responses 
To older boys 
Trying their 'luck'
At what? A Fuck?
Asking about
Threads covering my skin
Questions I only understand now

Boxes I never open
With photos I never seeked
With texts I never read
Disgust echos in every fibre
Long lines of texts
Confessing supposed undying love
From both the unknown and oddly known
Bad rooms that I would rather lock

Arrows shot through
Anger and hurt
Confrontations 
Rolling eyes
Clenched teeth
Smashed screens
Realising the 'ends' in friends

Quick articulations
Meticulously chosen words
Sharp witty terms
Half-hearted burns
Terms 
Politics
Accusations
Name-calling
Blocking 
'Please go google'

Boxes with cobwebs
Memories so old 
That even feelings have now gone cold




Turning twenty is terrifying, moving out of the 'teenage' years fills me with an odd sense of growing up and dread. I have always been a person who has not allowed myself to indulge in 'teenagery' things, especially I've never let my poetry be about teen cliches and crisis or cringe. This week I let myself indulge in the cringiest cliches of being a teenager because it is the last time I get to, so here you have it teenagery musings before I complete two decades. 

Tuesday, 25 June 2019

Kabir Misogyny Singh: A Review

I woke up at 7:00 A.M. to go and watch Kabir Singh, spoiler alert, I regretted the decision a few minutes into the movie.

Although having been warned by the internet about the misogynistic nature of the movie, I had a few motivations to watch it anyway; a portion of the movie was shot in my college, the music of the movie is beautiful, I have had a certain amount of fondness of Shahid Kapoor's acting given his previous movies (not this movie, more on this later), and because I thought that I could deal with the misogyny of the movie because aren't all Bollywood movies streaked with the same.

But this movie left me with an unprecedented amount of discomfort and disgust.




Kabir Misogyny Singh

One of the scenes, less than 10 minutes into the movie features Kabir Singh cutting a woman's clothes with a knife, he acts extremely aggressively and then threatens her at knifepoint to undress, while she clearly says  "I don't want this right now." A blatant breach of consent and clear sexual assault. The audience found this comical and the movie itself provides for comic relief in the form of the woman's fiance singing outside as Kabir Singh walks out shirtless as though he is some baller guy for having harassed a woman. Kabir Singh is then seen putting ice into his crotch publicly.

A scene that is widely spoken about online is the one wherein Kabir runs after his domestic help for having broken a glass. The aggression with which he runs with the clear intent of endangering her, had me squirming in my seat with actual fear. The audience laughs at this to no end, the filmmakers too evidently meant for the scene to be comical.

The problem with the above two scenes, apart from the clear problems of sexual assault and the intent of hurting and threatening, is the comedy attached. This has two lines of issues; one; the audience laughed, which made me suddenly very aware of the thought process of the people I was sharing this dark and closed space with; two; the movie-makers meant for it to be comic relief equating the oppression of women to something that is supposedly funny.

A scene wherein I almost dared to hope was the scene with the backdrop of Holi, a set of men with a personal vendetta against Kabir sexually harass the female protagonist (really though? was she the protagonist?) Preeti. Kabir sits on the front seat of a bike with Preeti in the back seat holding a bat. Although I do not condone violence and a lot of things are problematic even with this idea, I was almost excited that maybe he will enable her to beat the guy up, especially since she seemed like a non-confrontational character (I use the term ‘seemed’ because we really don't know much about Preeti). Instead, Kabir goes out there, punches the guy, lights the guy's cigarette and asks him to 'promise' that it won't happen again. If this doesn't make you frown hard enough to give you a headache, Kabir proceeds to make her sexual assault about himself, he rants about how any harm coming to Preeti 'affects' him the most, (uh, sorry, I think maybe, just maybe, it affects Preeti the most but okay) he goes on to talk about how much he likes her. With this, he negates her trauma and makes her sexual assault about himself, because of course Kabir Misogyny Singh must take centre stage at all times and everyone's lives are made to just cater to him and his toxic masculinity. This is something we see throughout the movie.

Imagine being a fresher in a college and suddenly being singled out in class by your seniors, being treated differently by your peers because one random senior claimed that you are ‘his’. On that point, Kabir Singh's "Woh meri hai" (she is mine) is an extremely scary form of obsession and possessiveness, it has a very bad precedent. I know a lot of women, including myself who have been prey to random men claiming us to be theirs and then acting scary enough for us to feel literal danger to our lives. Preeti is called out of her class on numerous occasions where Kabir takes her and ‘teaches’ her the topic of the day. He assigns her a "fat chick" as a friend and hostel roommate. He compares the two girls is an extremely problematic manner, referring to her new friend as a ‘teddy bear’. Kabir kisses Preeti without her consent, let alone consent to be honest, she has not even said hi properly to him yet.

The Toxicity Report was not the only toxic element

Needless to say, their relationship was very toxic. Kabir controlled every bit of Preeti’s life, from who she hung out with to where she sat in classes. Preeti has to beg him to let her stay for a couple of days in Delhi. Kabir orders Preeti around and yells at her. Both of them physically assaulted one another in the movie. Although physical abuse in a relationship is not acceptable at all, one might cut slack when the individuals are in an agitated headlock physically with pulling and pushing. This makes their acts of slapping each other more problematic as they both slap one another almost five seconds post their arguments, wherein they then were making a conscious decision to hit the other. Their relationship has barely any conversation to the extent that Preeti says practically nothing to him at all in the beginning of the movie.

Kabir has a casual relationship with Jia, an actress. He is shown to be extremely angry at her for no reason in some instances. He breaks up with her in a very crude manner when she tells him she loves him while they're making out and he abruptly walks out of the car they were in and begins shouting at her.

Kabir’s Toxic masculinity will/is lead/ing to the poisoning of the minds of young people. Kabir is constantly rude to everyone in the movie. He shows that being aggressive is the new cool and revels in the fear that everyone has of him. Kabir constantly exploits the power dynamics of all of his relationships including as a senior in college, manipulating Preeti. The power dynamic is clearly stated when the entire class stands up on multiple occasions seeing him enter. He also exploits his position of power when after sexually harassing a woman, he calls a girl and tells her to come over to his place for a ‘seminar’ that she missed. Young men have already started aggressively defending his character. This comes from the lack of an explicit counter-narrative within the movie. The movie glorifies the character and hence cannot get away with shirking the burden off by saying “It is just a character” or “It is just a movie”, a simple move of proof of glorification is the fact that the movie said ‘KABIR SINGH’ instead of interval in the interval.

Movies do not exist in a vacuum, everything Kabir does on the screen will influence what young men do in real life. Shahid Kapoor has a lot of social capital as an actor, a lot of people relate to him and look up to him, this role taken up by him then endorses the behaviour of Kabir, as the movie in itself provides for no counter-narrative or introspection of how wrong his ways have been and the fact that Shahid Kapoor has been extremely quick and eager to defend the character in the face of criticism.

Arjun Reddy is apparently a "critically acclaimed" film. A lot of people claim the same for Kabir Singh, they ask 'pseudo-liberal feminists' (hysterical, because if you like this movie, you don't know a thing about feminism and in turn have no right to term anything as pseudo-feminism), to view the movie as a movie and the character as just a character. Even if you're someone who isn't a feminist, sexual harassment and slapping people is something any sane person would see as wrong but okay.

Yet, I shall take the advice of all of these lovely people, and view the movie as a movie.
What follows is a critical analysis of the film apart from its undertones and narratives.

One of my incentives, as listed earlier, was the music of the film. Sachet Tandon and Parampara Thakur with their song 'Bekhayali' absolutely won my heart, moulding Irshad Kamil's beautiful words into an amazing song. I can say the same for most of the songs of the movie. Yet, I can't help but feel that these songs were wasted on this movie.' Bekhayali' as a song is absolutely heart-wrenching, yet when the song was broken into pieces by the movie into three different scenes, I almost did not notice the song. The song speaks volumes of heartbreak whereas I could not help but blame Kabir for his situation. As Bollywood always does, the movie just has a mention of the caste issue as opposed to it being an actual social hurdle in their love for each other. So the only probable reason for them not being together is her father being mad for catching them in a compromising position, although Kabir is calm in the first few tries of convincing Preeti's family, he is very quick to lose his anger and withdraw his support for Preeti, instead of standing by her he shouts at everyone, insults her father, aggressively picks up a plant pot to throw at her sister, kisses her brother, asks Preeti to shut up a million times in one breath while she begs him not to leave and then slaps her and ‘curses' her to marry her father's choice. When Preeti tries to come into contact with Kabir by showing up at his house, he has already drunk himself silly and injected morphine, wow what a great boyfriend, totally does not disappear in time of crisis. Now I associate these beautiful songs with an abusive boyfriend and a toxic relationship with obsessive tendencies instead of love.

Another beautiful song wasted, ‘Kaise Hua’ (How did this happen?) is kind of apt though as one actually wonders how did it happen because Preeti has literally not spoken at all to Kabir yet here he is all in love.

Apart from the discography. The background music, especially the track that plays when Kabir is 'angst' is such a baller soundtrack. It is the kind of film score that I imagine in the background of a badass character but Kabir Singh is just a bad character and an ass. The film score also plays at odd moments, for instance when Kabir slaps Preeti, a peppy song begins playing, I understand it was to fade into the next scene but uh no.

Kabir Singh as a movie is so messed up in terms of its storytelling and plot in general.  In one of the scenes Kabir says "I am not a rebel without a cause sir" but, he kinda is. Most of Kabir's reasoning for anything is his anger. Why is this very economically privileged guy, with tonnes of entitlement, who is also in a good college so angry? Why is it that everyone around him has to control variables to ensure he keeps his calm. He is a rebel without a cause. Even before his supposed heartbreak, he is mean to everyone and is also disrespectful. Kabir has no accountability, no prerogatives, no introspection or depth at all as a character. He misses his brother's entire wedding, no one holds him accountable. What is he even rebelling against? His college telling him not to get into fist fights? He sneaks in a girl into his college hostel and is not held responsible at all for it. Kabir and Preeti’s relationship is only ‘cute’ when they're in a long distance (perhaps their lack of proximity made me feel safer about both of their safeties). They barely talk to one another, Kabir suddenly out of the blue falls in ‘love’ with her and remarks that he likes the way she breathes, well who can blame him, the dialogue writer more or less forgot to write Preeti’s line for a major chunk of the movie.

Preeti says literally less than a paragraph of words throughout the movie. 560 words to be precise, yes I counted. Preeti’s entire script could fit on one A4 sized sheet with Times New Roman, Size 12. We know nothing about her apart from the fact that her name is Preeti Sikka and she is a doctor. What are her aspirations? We don't know. Does she have any hobbies? We don't know.  We don't know anything about her and it is very likely that Kabir doesn't either.

Jia and Kabir have more chemistry than Kabir and Preeti. Jia is also not a character that is explored much, although we know more about her than we know about Preeti.

Kabir's brother's character description in the script must have been 'supportive brother' and that is literally as far as his character went. No depth. He shows no anger at his brother missing out on his wedding and going to the extent of even spoiling it. Just like Preeti, we know nothing about the brother except for that he is Kabir’s brother.

His mom is almost a tokenistic character in the film, so are most of his friends except for Shiva. Shiva is literally the only character with any depth and portrayal because he actually shows characteristics and has a developed personality.

The ending of the film, with Preeti being pregnant with Kabir’s child and both of them getting married is so unrealistic and almost cringe worthy.

Most of the dialogue in the movie has no substance. They're either repetitions or paraphrasing of things that have already been said (Example: Preeti saying “Kabir kabir kabir please please please baby baby baby” for major part of their arguments) This movie could have been a three hour long monologue with Kabir being the only one in the entire movie and no one would have noticed a difference.  

No No Tommy Singh

Honestly, Kabir Singh isn't anything in front of Tommy Singh. I am really annoyed at the fact that people can even begin to compare them. Apart from the obvious vibe of glorifying Kabir Singh and not so much with Tommy Singh, since the movie (Udta Punjab) revolves around explaining the problems with drug addiction. When Tommy Singh reaches rock bottom (wherein he accidentally shoots his uncle and also pisses on the crowd during a concert) he introspects and understands the problematic nature of his behaviour and addiction. Tommy Singh is very shaken by what addiction has done to him. He was a person before his addiction, his lowest point made him realise he wasn't being true to himself or his music because of substance abuse and so goes on to reform his ways. Tommy Singh has an origin and motivations, a young musician who got fame that has now driven him to a breaking point, one who is not creating the type of music he wanted but is doing okay. Tommy Singh is also extremely affected by the impact he has had on young kids in terms of pushing them to drugs and making it seem cool, unlike Kabir Singh or even the people behind Kabir Singh who refuse to accept the impact their character would have on young minds, it is almost like Tommy Singh has more depth than real life people.

Kabir Singh's rock bottom has little introspection and seems so unrealistic in a way that it barely seems to shake him. Kabir Singh isn't only a misogynistic character but also a very badly written character in terms of both writing, direction, and also portrayal. Kabir Singh was an awful person even before his addiction, so his rock bottom of showing up drunk for surgery is something that makes him realise that his addiction is messing up his career but is not a betrayal of himself as a person, because his awfulness was a constant element pre and post addiction. Although admittedly, Kabir’s grandmother passing away does push him to introspect, this introspection is hidden from the audience and so it doesn't become explicitly clear that Kabir realised the problems with his anger issues.

In terms of the depth of the characters and the way they are written and portrayed, their dialogue, and the motivations behind both of their respective actions, Tommy Singh is a beautiful character, Kabir Singh has literally no mind or care or incentive or prerogatives of anything.

Putting the movie to the Test(s)

We have come so far as society, this movie has single-handedly pulled us back ages. We have been making strides in dismantling the norms surrounding the subjugation of women and have been destroying the patriarchy one brick at a time. With actresses in Bollywood trying hard to expand the way Bollywood sees female characters, this movie is a huge disappointment.

Parts of this movie were shot in my college. My college is an enabling and safe space for me, seeing such problematic scenes play out in the walls that I call home makes my insides hurt.

The movie fails the Bechdel Test monumentally, which has a very simple requirement of a film featuring at least two women who talk to each other about something other than a man. Not once does this happen in the movie. Throughout three hours of footage.

It also fails the Mako Mori Test which requires at least one female character who gets her own narrative arc which is not about supporting a man’s story.

I'm tempted to say that this movie fails the Sexy Lamp Test too, which measures how relevant a female character is to the plot and whether you can take out the character and replace her with a sexy lamp, because then Kabir Singh would be a movie about Kabir and his obsession with a sexy lamp, which wouldn't be too tough as he already objectifies his love interest enough. But maybe that is taking it too far so I shall let this test be.



In closing, I am sad I gave this movie revenue.




Tuesday, 11 December 2018

Writer's Block


Since I've had one for the last many months
I choose to write of it
Hoping it breaks this insane cycle
Where I sit at a desk and my brain screams
Only to come up with blank pages
As though the inkpot of my feelings has dried

It has dried and hardened, not diminished
Making it toxic as it sits inside
The first few words come up to my throat 
Like the bile I feel every morning when I wake
But just as I gulp it before I puke
My backspace kills the chains of alphabets

Even now, I sit here with dwindling thumbs
Staring off into space after every line
This poem has literally no reason or rhyme
As someone who is supposed to have a way with words
I seem to have lost mine

I wish to end the poem abruptly
Because that has been the flow of my thoughts lately
They begin with a hope and passion
And then