In Bangalore, postmodern feminists know their right of way

Feminism

Image by peterkellystudios via Flickr

We do not have a Madonna all worked up about her Blonde Ambition World Tour amid us, or a Julia Kristeva giving finishing touches to her new book on psychoanalytical theory. But when it comes to living it up every day, that feminist strand among a majority of postmodern working women in Bangalore is anything but thinning. Continue reading

Food before mortality

A flood-hit woman in Bellary district, 2009. Lakhs of people starved for weeks on end. A majority of them are still homeless.

The nation debates economic expenditure on infrastructure and industrial growth threadbare, but its social expenditure on food, health, and education has been shamefully low. Amidst all this chaos, something else remains woefully neglected: the female population and their right to nutritious food.

Sifting through the shards of history isn’t enough to fathom gender bias in India. It is multi-hued, many-faced, and uniquely critical. How and where do you begin to untangle the issue? Which face do you look at? Which premise do you hold on to?

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(Pic: SH)

“The Aishwarya effect”: why media forgets feats of lesser mortals?

Indian actress Aishwarya Rai

Image via Wikipedia

This week, the media reported Aishwarya Rai Bachchan’s “feat” of delivering a powerful statement: opting for a normal delivery “at a time when every fourth woman in Mumbai undergoes a Caesarean section”.

This bit of research termed “the Aishwarya effect” helped us realise this much: that the media finally found something to push this Bollywood star and millions of Indian women under one set of statistics. Continue reading

Heart of darkness

His body lay squashed on the bridge that connected my hometown to the rest of the world – a typical dusty Indian town that stumbles on its own follies but never rises above them.

A monstrous 10-wheeler truck had run over the doctor leaving his bloody innards entangled with those of his bike. Dr Dinakar Shetty had met with his end on the same bridge from where he dumped black plastic bags stuffed with female foetuses and newborns into the rivulet flowing under—some poisoned, some smothered, and some throbbing soft and warm. Continue reading