As a Dalit woman, I have never at any point felt intensely patriotic. This was a country that killed my ancestors, this is a country that continues to kill my people. Why should I swear allegiance? Why love this land? But today,
I've realised that India, even the idea of it, does not belong to its rulers. It never has. It belongs to the people. To every single one of us. And especially to the minorities, the poor, and the oppressed, who work and toil for this land, on this land.
For the first time in long time, I feel patriotic enough to know that this country should be saved from its power-hungry ‘nationals’. I feel proud enough to know that all hope is not lost. Onwards, Azaadi! #SayNoToCAA#SayNoToNRC#StandWithJamia#StandWithAMU
Remembering Babasaheb as always:
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I had my first doctor’s visit today and I am stumped. Why do people want to move to the US from India?!
Like an X-ray back home costs 250 rupees? 500, maybe? Or 2000, also? It’s a freaking 200 dollars here. And I have to call atleast 10 people to explain things, which no one will understand, and I have a complicated name?! B***ch, take me back to Karthik scans at Moorthy Nagar.
How do people without medical insurance live here? Or the old, the poor, the hypochondriac, the chronically ill? And with insurance, you have to decide on a procedure depending on how much you’ve to copay? And you could refuse it because you can’t afford it?!
You know what we’ve done? We have replaced political ideology for humanity. We have incorrectly assumed that if someone comes with the right set of progressive political perspectives, then they’d also be good people. So foolish, so naive.
In the hands of power-hungry narcissists, politics (leftist, Dalit, feminist, and every other) is nothing but a tool. A weapon to gain more control - over another individual, a community, a group, a country even.
Individuals that display dominant behaviour, regardless of the politics they espouse, and even cite politics for their dominance, are aplenty within movements, families, and woke collectives. They are not invested in change; they are only interested in power - their own.
If you’re a partner to or is involved with someone that suffers from anxiety, please know they may have trouble while travelling. Here are a few things to keep in mind if you’re not the one with travel anxiety but is travelling with someone who does.
Travel anxiety comes in various shapes and forms. For some, it is about getting lost, or falling ill, or losing valuables, or being stranded, or even dying. For me, it’s border control, missing trains/flights, and wondering if my home is safe/secure.
Like every aspect of mental health, travel anxiety is also functional of one’s social location - skin colour, ethnicity, surname, language proficiency, religious markers, race, caste, class, gender, ability, age, health, and others.
The last few years of political rumination on caste has somehow led us to believe that this is about savarnas becoming better allies, and by extension better people. It’s not.
At the centre of our movements are caste-oppressed communities, whose empowerment and healing must come first. The truly anti-caste savarna is at best an enabler. A vital enabler, no doubt. But at worst, a distraction.
The way upper castes are ferociously admonishing #IndianMatchmaking, one would assume that they’d all be fully anti-caste when it comes to love marriage. Lol, but y’all still want the same things in both unions. Lighter skin, slim & trim, and similar social locations.
So you saying that if India and the Indian diaspora gave up on arranged marriages, you will be open to dating and loving people across caste and class lines? Convenient to put the entire blame on the system when caste is a lot more inherent.
Your friendships should indicate that. Your social bubbles should tell you that. Who do you gravitate towards at a party? Who do you side eye with when a joke is being made? Who’s your private circle? Who do you ping when you come across a job opportunity?
I finally watched Fleabag. And I have thoughts. Not important in the time of corona. Not urgent in this time of crisis. Come back later, it’s cool.
It’s an odd thing, really, to be this person - a dark-skinned, Dalit Christian woman, who has lived most of her life in post-colonial India, caught in between shifting feminist politics, sitting in the middle of a pandemic, facing the risk of losing her job,
And consuming the story of a white, British woman, running a café in North London; so pretty, that she’d look gorgeous even during her mother’s funeral. I was told, by both friends and social media, that this was a very relatable show, that Fleabag was every other woman.