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Archive for the ‘Thoughts on Life & Writing’ Category

Memories of the License Raj: Guest Post by Mira Saraf

Posted in Delhi, India, Personal, Thoughts on Life & Writing, tagged , , on September 13, 2018| 1 Comment »

Memories of the License Raj: Guest Post by Mira Saraf

Memories of the License Raj: Guest Post by Mira Saraf
— Read on wanderingsoulwriter.com/2018/09/13/memories-mira/

Guest post I wrote for my good friend Piyusha Vir 🙂

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Accepting Our Blind Spots

Posted in On Writing, Personal, Thoughts on Life & Writing, Yoga on March 25, 2018| 14 Comments »

A few weeks ago, a woman named Shilpi A. Singh messaged me, as she was doing a piece on acroyoga (a blend of acrobatics, yoga and Thai massage) and wanted to speak to some practitioners and members of the community. Those of you who know me, know that I have practiced this on and off for a few years. Last year I became, what they called a jambassador, with the goal of promoting and facilitating jams, and helping build a community.  (more…)

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The Counter-productivity of Labels

Posted in Personal, Thoughts on Life & Writing on January 18, 2018| 3 Comments »

I’m taking a break from Kerala posts but just for today 🙂

Last night, I found myself pulled into a debate about the Aziz Ansari episode, as a friend of mine related a personal anecdote of mine on a group forum.

“Why didn’t she just do x?” “Why didn’t she just do y?” “Why didn’t she just say no?” The ladies on the thread wondered, questioning the legitimacy of my experience: one that many women have had.

So I took it upon myself to get on the thread and explain. I didn’t accuse, I didn’t get angry, I didn’t hurl around labels. At the end, the ladies came around and understood. It is sadly one of the only times that has ever happened to me.

The problem with labels we use today is that they’re loaded. Rapist, abuser, sexual predator: all these are very powerful and heavy-handed words.  (more…)

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Finding Peace in Silent Empty Hours

Posted in India, Thoughts on Life & Writing, Travel on January 17, 2018| 6 Comments »

It’s a four hour drive to Kumarakom, a sleepy little town by the backwaters, dominated by resorts. Kottayam is a short distance away, and there is apparently some sightseeing to be done there.

The roads of Kottayam remind me of Goa, low-rise colourful houses, with wide fields lined with rice patties, and peppered with clumps of coconut and palm trees. Gates are flat, as security is not a concern here.

There are small eateries lining marketplaces, with mom and pop shops of all varieties.

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The Wonders of Kalaripayattu

Posted in India, Personal, Thoughts on Life & Writing, Travel on January 14, 2018| 2 Comments »

The kalaripayattu performance that follows the kathakali is nothing short of spectacular. The practitioners move like dancers, their bodies a combination of ridiculous strength and flexibility.

Kalaripayattu is an ancient martial art that originated in Kerala, with roots that date back to the Sangam period literature (3rd century BC – 2nd century AD). Every soldier during this period received regular military training. It takes elements from yoga, dance and performing arts, which are visible in today’s performance. (more…)

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Discovering Kathakali

Posted in India, Thoughts on Life & Writing, Travel on January 13, 2018| 2 Comments »

Although I had originally planned to see the Kathakali performance in Kumarakom, I find out that it’s difficult to organise, or at least my hotel says so. Fortunately I have the evening free in Thekkady, so I decide that I might as well.

I glance in my guide book, and it recommends the Mudra Cultural Centre. I type in the URL and check – the show timings are still 5pm and 7:15 for Kathakali, and 6pm and 7:15 for kalarippayat, the traditional Kerala martial art.  (more…)

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Learnings from the Mannan Tribe

Posted in Thoughts on Life & Writing, Travel on January 12, 2018| 8 Comments »

The Thekkady tribal dance performance takes place in a small auditorium, not far from the Periyar Reserve bus stand, across from the Bamboo Grove.

I walk into a dusty darkened room, with a few rows of wooden chairs. The door is open, and people are either fanning themselves or swatting at mosquitoes, or in some cases both. A red light glows behind the curtain.  (more…)

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