An Open Letter to the Brotherly “Activists” Who Protect My Uterus

Background to those who’ve been living under a rock: A scholar named Dr. Rejith Kumar, as part of a series of “moral consciousness” lectures, made quite a few patronizing comments against women. Only one girl walked out. The media blew it up. People blew up. There was outrage against this guy, but more so against the media. Below are screenshots of some amazing comments on just one video of his speech. Look around Facebook for more. Or Twitter. Or other videos on Youtube. These activists are everywhere. Hey human beings with uteruses, hold on tight. 

Disclaimer: I’m not witty, and wasn’t trying to be. Any accidental sarcasm is purely a shield for anger. 

Youtube Comments from Just One Video

Dear lovely brothers of mine,
Continue reading “An Open Letter to the Brotherly “Activists” Who Protect My Uterus”


Canvas: Painted with Acrylic, Dented with a Butter Knife.


Nothing New.

I will cut my daughter’s hair
dress her in beige and black and brown,
preferably in shirts with denim collars
and large knit sweaters and pants
with triple layers. Continue reading “Canvas: Painted with Acrylic, Dented with a Butter Knife.”

To be a Girl.


All you need to do is learn how to fly.
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. 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 “To be a Girl.”