The persistent need to tell Facebook that I’m doing something or I am in the midst of a giant, earth-shattering, for me, epiphany, is getting a little annoying. I think I would like to hide some place and not come out at all.
I wish life was suddenly not about my online presence. I mean, a friend of mine re-activated her Facebook profile to tell me – “I’m here because it’s hard to live in the same city as you and stay in touch”. I was rightfully enraged, sorry di, but I think she’s right. There’s more information about me online than there is in other people’s email and SMS inboxes. That’s bloody sad. I want to be the girl who overshares in a café and has other people bitch about her and not the other way around. I like getting out of my house to get some fresh air and Vitamin D, not sit at home and type a lot. I’ll end up being lady type-a-lot and friendless!
Anyway, that’s just self-indulgence.
There’s a new blog. Writing Caste. Check it out.
This blog came about with a very interesting back story. Malarvizhi Jayanth, a former reporter at The Hindu wrote two rants on Facebook after The Hindu acquired exclusive access to Wikileaks’ India Cables. Malar had a huge grouse against the paper and it was expressed in two parts. The first part was the classic – my former employer is a jerkwad-style piece and the second hit a more raw nerve, caste. Now, caste is a subject that this country grapples with on a regular basis and continues to be completely anal about it because our social structures date back to a time way, way, way before colonialism even happened.
The responses to the second post were so multifarious that Malar decided to put together a blog of contributions and responses. I wrote to her too, you can’t blame me! My name is one of the most misleading in Malayali history. As recently as Sunday I had someone ask if I was Brahmin, when I said I wasn’t, this person was like, "but your name". That’s how it goes with me.
I for one, as mentioned earlier, don’t know this problem, nor have I been a victim of caste. However, this word has been a part of a lot of my interactions ever since I got that certificate from the CBSE just before my class 10 board exams. In my MA, the word took on a new significance. As a student of post-colonial literature, etc, the word became part of debate, but it never meant anything to me. As someone who lives the regular middle-class city life, I haven’t had to deal with it on a personal level.
However, watching the people who come out of the sewer manholes, reminds me that there is a part of my country’s social fibre that is tainted and stained. I think the Supreme Court’s decision to make Khap Panchayat’s illegal is a step in the right direction towards eradicating the unreasonable levels of right-wingness that persists in this country.
I’m going to leave it at that.
One more blog you should be reading is this. She’s a junior of mine from college and she's awesome and she’s getting married and she’s a fantastic writer, so please read okay?
I go now, I will come back with lots of more kuppai. There’s a bachelor party I have to go to because my idiot friend has more women friends. I’m sure something will come out of that event that I will write about.