Annie Zaidi's Blog, page 38

"Burn, baby, burn" she says

"The narrative is strong and sublime in just the parts they should be, not letting the weight of the words take down the scenes you build. And, even though some pain from the prose and that striking cover picture lingers on after a read, you love it, for it’s as bitter yet true as love gets."

From HT City 

For the love of the land

The other day, I went to a movie. As usual, we stood up for the national anthem. For some reason – perhaps because there was no video accompanying the singing – I found myself concentrating on the words of Jana Gana Mana.An anthem is supposed to express the love a citizen feels for the nation. Our anthem is a hymn. It addresses a higher force – whatever force controls the destinies of nations –

A Bill on the Table

Can you think of one thing that is common to all festivals? This element cuts across race, religion, class. This element is at the root of all civilization. This element is food.Human beings have always appeased their gods with food and water. It is our way of saying that we acknowledge what is dearest, and we hope to always have this. If there was only one thing we could guarantee for ourselves

Some reviews of the new book

"Tantalisingly subtitled and numbered 1 to 14, yet arranged haphazardly—like random numbers in a slot machine—these stories tell of the chanciness of love, the odds you may or may not bet on.... The tonic to your seasonal cheer" - Outlook.

"Zaidi doesn’t distort or overly complicate her subjects, merely studies their symptoms and the effect of their desires on their actions. Neither indulgent

A suspect piece of paper

Last week, I mentioned that a group of us had gone to Carter Road with a pledge to help create safer cities. Some men held up pledges saying they’d speak up against sexual harassment. Someone promised not to give sexist toys to kids. Someone else promised to use public transport.One of the major reactions we got was from the police. A cop came up to ask what this was about. Since we were

On how to begin

Begin at the very source of your need. Begin the way waterfalls begin – with a rush and headlong tumble towards the unknown depths. Crash into rocks.

Begin with the image of hurt. Most of us need to share pain, above all things. Our joys we sequester, most of us. We need them too much, and we are afraid of jealous eyes. Of jealous gods. Until we lose them. Then those joys become pain. And we

Dear Yo Yo Honey

Words are one of the first things we ache for. A baby learns to say ‘Ma’ or ‘Pa’ or ‘Daadi’ because those are the words of first love. Then comes ‘Yes’, ‘No’, ‘Biscuit’... 


Words are the tools through which we assimilate, and learn to negotiate society. This process never ends. Every year I change a little bit because of what I absorb, mostly through words. What I read, watch, experience,

Are you on the side of the rapists?

This afternoon, finally, I want to cry. Not because of the gangrape-murder that caused such outrage. Not because such rape-murders are reported everyday. Not because I’m frightened about how I will live, with such violence all around. Today, I’m feeling defeated.Some of us have been thinking about how to direct public outrage into constructive channels. Somebody organized ‘Take Back the Night’.

Interviewed

"Has your approach to writing changed, since you became a published writer?"



I've become more aware of the need to edit myself. I've also realised that getting published is just stage 2. There is stage 3 (distribution), 4 (visibility), 5 (staying in print), 6 (staying relevant), 7 (finding and keeping other jobs that will subsidize the books), and there's stage 8, 9, and 10 maybe, where I

In a rape culture

Once, a man in a car followed me in Saket. He asked for
directions to PVR, then asked me to come with him, and ended with calling me a bitch.
I remember wondering what ‘provoked’ him. I was wearing an off-white saree. When
I wore it in Benaras, people mistook me for a grieving widow.



I drove away that man by noting down the car’s registration
number. But what if I didn’t speak English, or