
All you need to do is learn how to fly.
A monologue. Partly true, partly fictional. I imagined myself performing it.. at a “feminist”s monologue night. But I don’t think I will. Few brown girls do. Sigh. No one has the guts. There’s something in our culture that forbids it. There’s something in our roots that makes us ignore our own flaws. Well, let me write it down anyway. Maybe one day, I’ll get the courage. Maybe, maybe not.
And the stage lights rise. A spotlight focuses on that figure in the middle..
I found out when I was four. My grandparents had argued a lot that day. After it was all over, Ammachi, my grandmother, was sitting in the kitchen muttering something. At first, I couldn’t make anything out. I was just sitting there and playing “teacher” with my teddy bears. But then, I began to recognize words- especially one of them.. rape.
I had learned the word a week before, when I was watching a Malayalam movie with that weird balding guy with the long hair.. I forgot his name. Well, he was hugging and pulling a girl on a bed and then blood started to come from her mouth and she was crying and then, she died. I asked my cousin what had happened and he said that she was raped. I thought it was like a gun. I knew a lot about guns. Dishoom! Continue reading →