Thursday, 10 October 2013

A look in the mirror

I've been brought up on a diet of English and American Writing. I first read Indian writing in English in my late teens, loved some of it, found the rest quite pedestrian. But this is not about the quality of English or American or Indian writing.

As I make my first, tentative attempts at story telling, I've realised what this extremely western diet of literature has done to me. It's made me feel unnatural about using Indian names in my stories. At the same time, I feel false if I try to situate a story in any place but India. Do you see the dichotomy there?

More than the dichotomy though, I felt a gut wrenching sadness when I realised this. I like to think of myself as sufficiently over the colonial hangover. Of not looking up blindly to the west, of being sufficiently appreciative and proud of my culture. And here I am, fighting in my mind over what name sounds more attractive! This is what a lifetime of exposure can do to you. 

I am left with a sense of envy for authors like Murakami and Pamuk, who write in their own language and yet connect with audiences across the world.

Wednesday, 28 August 2013

On reading and writing

Voracious reading must be accompanied by voracious writing. Else the mind gets too cluttered and ideas really can't find a place to move around.

There has been too much reading the past few months. There is thankfully some writing now (though not in this space) and so, I might just pull myself out of this hole.

I am all hopeful. :)

Monday, 11 February 2013

Happy new year blog!

Today I miss my blog...

And it's time this blog entered the new year.

Sunday, 13 January 2013

Walking on broken glass

The view outside my window
I stood at the window, staring
Strains of music wafted into my ears from the distance
Suddenly I just had to do it.
So I did.
I dropped the glass
It shattered with the tinkle of a million bells
Pleasant, unlike the clang of metal
And I put my bare feet on it.
An instant of pleasure followed by the prick of many needles.
Breaking rules is like walking on broken glass.

P.S: the title to this post is borrowed from Annie Lennox's song of the same name.