I grew up for the most part in the city–the quiet, mountain-laden land that is known for its frothy coffees in the morning and wispy skies that turned grey from blue in the blink of an eye. The Ukkadam river is an abeyance to the rest of the city, however, with birds circling the ever-growing smoke spewed from tall towers of The Chennai Silks. To navigate through the streets of Oppanakkara–a heavily industrialized scene since the arrival of the Sassenach with their west-coast lilt–is a feat that is not achieved by very many.
Snow pelts down to meet the raging crimson.
Winter broke upon an unassuming land of Kashmir on the day the screaming casually ended. The newspapers didn’t find their usual path of foreboding announcements. A breeze that would carefully caress your cheeks was missing in the atmosphere.
Political violence is oftentimes the result of ignorance. Psychology believes that it emboldens from a person feeling worthless and as such associating himself with what he believes to be something bigger than himself; and most importantly, when leaders fuel and stir the pot in favor of a particular group inciting hate.
There is no denying that the honorable Union Minister of Education Smriti Irani is self made. Her favorite phrase to use is time and time again and she uses alliteration for optics. She looks down at her feet after saying something profound in some semblance of effect and smiles ineffectually at flashing cameras. No stage is intimidating, no man too hard to defeat. Dubbed the most eloquent of ministers, she walks amidst thorns her big, beading eyes glaring at a thin, blue line between spectators adorned in juxtaposed colors. They are all looking up at her in awe. At scorched excuses she throws their way. At the villainous lotus flower that haphazardly rests between her slender fingers.
According to the legends, He was borne out of love between two men. He has a bereft woman waiting for him at the foothills and will only join hands with her if not one devotee ends up in His shrine thereby breaking out of his long-held celibacy. There sure has to be a joke hidden in there somewhere. Except there isn’t.
Lovingly dubbed kalaignar, the ex-Chief Minister of Tamil Nadu Dr. Karunanidhi has been without question, the most prominent person of Indian political history. He is seen as a patriarch of modern Tamil Nadu, who has fiercely defended his language by people of the last generation. Tamil people have always placed him as a stalwart of protests against Hindi and him being an atheist hasn’t helped the cause of mostly religious North Indian politicians. He is the torch-bearer of Anna’s and Periyar’s Dravidian ideologies of communism and atheist principles. For the previous generation, Kalaignar Karunanidhi is a defender of Tamil rights, but for the millennials, however, with internet and age of digital information, the image is slightly distorted.
I have religiously followed both the version of The Office and with a little bit of research, I am still yet to understand the subtle differences between the two regions divided by the Atlantic. The theory gets a lot of people agitated and a more sterner argument is that it is actually out-dated, but you still do see the stark differences between the two. Shameless is another example right after Skins, all hallmarks of British’s witty, snarky jokes converted into a cinematic adaptation that follows the American narrative. So let’s try to dissect the difference between the two; remember, I am not trying to say which is better.
The curtains opened. The stage had been set up and in came the man everyone has been waiting for. With a histrionic music in the background. Arms enclosed in one another, he stood facing the crowd. And then came a powerful voice from somewhere in the depths of his throat that was both exciting and arresting. Probably one of the most powerful shows in Tamil Nadu, Bigg Boss’s Saturday nights open to huge expectations for actor-turned-politician Kamal Hassan’s brilliant eloquence and politics-topped innuendos, that mostly wouldn’t make sense right there, but probably on your way back home. This is how Aandavar has branded himself: an armed pistol, an inked-up pen.
In reality, the choice actually boils down to two versions of Padmavati: a woman who clung to her chastity and burned herself as an ultimate protest against invading men; and a fierce, beautiful woman who decided to follow her heart to be with the one that risked his life to win her hand in marriage.
In January 2017, the film sets of Padmavati was vandalised a RajPut association called Shri Rajput Karni Sena. In the process one of the painters on set was killed. Midst of it all, Akhilesh Khandelwal, in March 2017, a member of ruling party, BJP, made a shocking Facebook post stating “reward for anyone who attacks the director Sanjay Leela Bhansali with a shoe”. The same group attacked the sets again, but this time, they went a step ahead to target the celebrities involved in the film: Sanjay Leela Bhansali was slapped; Deepika Padukone was assaulted verbally and was driven into having a layer of security to her home after Karni Sena threatened to “–cut her nose off”.
Indian mothers have a habit. They always have had it. When her child falls down and begins crying, she will always blame the floor.
Million babies have born from million mothers. Million babies have fallen a million times. Million cries. Million blames. The floor has stayed the same. Never buckling, never yielding.