Tumgik
#indian writer
amomentwiser · 8 months
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"Why don't you spend time with us?" they say, "Keep your phone away at the table."
Parents say they want to talk — until it's about anything real.
They don't want to know about how their plans for your future make you feel.
They don't want to know your fears, hopes or dreams.
The things you're interested in — your favourite music, games and movies;
Or the things you've come to believe.
Sometimes it feels like parents don't want to get to know you as a person. They only see you in relation to themselves.
Or sometimes they do talk about music and games and movies, and it's even worse — because the conversations you want to have are serious.
And it's worse because it becomes very clear, that they don't want to have conversations that matter. That, god forbid, make them feel.
They want to avoid talking about all the times they yelled at you. No apology, no acknowledgement. Just glaze over those parts and pretend everything's normal. Neither guilt nor remorse.
And you're left wondering whether this thing you have a memory of actually happened, because everyone is acting like it didn't. And whether your anger is warranted, because everyone is acting like it isn't.
An unspoken decision: "Yes, we were harsh earlier, but we felt bad and are being nice now"
The implied demand: "...so be grateful,"
The undercurrent of a threat: "...or I'll get angry again."
And a push to move on: "Why do you bear grudges? Leave the past in the past."
All these little clues, that you learn to read in their body language and their eyes and their vibe.
And then they balk when you don't call them. Or jump at the chance to spend time with them — or even have a relationship.
It's weird, loving people you don't like. That you'd never choose of your own volition; that you'd never be friends had you met in the real world. People you're indebted to anyway, because they took care of you your whole life and changed your diapers and drove you to school, and what friend would ever do that?
Had they been overly abusive I would've cut them off without guilt; if I didn't know that despite it all, they really did love me, I wouldn't have cared about hurting their feelings.
Some people... you love them only because they are family. If they were a boyfriend, I would've broken up with them; if they were a spouse I would've divorced them. Alas, they are my parents, and I'm destined to love them. To give up a kidney for them if need be, but not any days out of my workweek.
I don't have these conversations with my family because I've come to realise that this is something they're not emotionally equipped to handle. Too much self-awareness would bring out memories not only of the mistakes they made with me, but also all the times adults in their childhood failed them; of all the ways they themselves were wronged; all the years they wasted because of choices they didn't know they had; and all the things they wish they'd done differently. So I understand; the flood of anger and regrets it brings to the surface must be draining.
But that also means that I'll distance myself from them, because for me, their misunderstood love is draining. And because this has to stop somewhere; someone has to start choosing differently — and I've decided it'll be me.
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hobiebrownismygod · 5 months
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I think you have talked about this before, if so, i’m sorry for ask, but what about a more in deep analysis on Pavitr’s personality and why he’s not some emasculated uwu boy, especially for the ones who wants to write about him
I actually haven't talked about this before, so thanks for the idea! Hopefully what I wrote answers your ask properly, and if not pls let me know! <3
I made two posts to answer your question, the first being this post and another being an analysis on Pavitr's personality which I'll post as soon as I finish it. Let me know if you'd like to be added to the tag list or if you would like a specific place for me to post it! I'll link it here once I've written it <3
Stop Writing Pavitr As An Emasculated uwu Boy
He's not.
So why do people write Pavitr Prabhakar this way in the first place? The main reason is:
Internalized Toxic Masculinity
We as a society have become so used to seeing men being aggressive and brooding, ESPECIALLY male superheroes. We see a lot of superheroes like Batman who're extremely broody, don't talk a lot, and are overall the strong silent type. We have superheroes like Captain America who never cry, rarely get angry, and rarely show vulnerability. In general, celebrated male characters in the media tend to be dominant and aggressive, because those are the traits that society has decided make men men.
Note: I'm not saying that these characters never show emotion and I'm not saying every celebrated male character is like this, I'm just explaining the connections between what I've noticed and the research I've done on the symptoms of toxic masculinity
Gender norms have corrupted our understanding of what it is to be masculine. Women are expected to be polite, calm, accommodating, and take good care of the way they look. Men are expected to be bold, aggressive and strong. Women are supposed to spend a lot of time on their hair and clothes, while men don't care about those things. Men are supposed to spend their days watching sports and wrestling, but women aren't interested in those things.
Because of these celebrated norms, when people see a character that cares about the way they look, is optimistic, calm, caring, sweet, they immediately think that that character is feminine. Why? Because we've been told that women are all those qualities and men are not. We've been told that women are kind and sweet while men are bold and strong.
So how does this connect to Pavitr's characterization in the media?
Note: This does not apply to headcanons. If you want to headcanon him as trans, as a femboy, or some other OOC thing, feel free to do so. This is specifically for people trying to write him accurately.
Pavitr was introduced as an excited, carefree young boy who's optimistic, kind, funny, etc. He talks about his hair, he openly talks about his relationship with his girlfriend, Gayatri, he swings around by dancing and doing poses, and has a love for street dogs.
He is not portrayed as bold, aggressive, dominant, competitive or stoic. He is not effortlessly attractive and he cares about the way he looks, and he cares about how he presents himself. He is not self-sufficient and he talks about living with his aunt, having friends, having a girlfriend, and the Spider Society.
These are all traits which traditionally masculine men portray, but Pavitr does not.
But does this make him feminine?
NO.
Having feminine qualities does not make you completely feminine. Having masculine qualities does not make you completely masculine. Just because you have one or two feminine qualities, it doesn't mean your entire personality and actions are all going to be feminine.
Pavitr portrays some feminine qualities. However, he also proves that he is strong, quick-thinking, tough, and sarcastic. Are these are traditionally feminine traits? No. But, people are ignoring all these qualities and switching them to turn him into an emasculated femboy, which just isn't accurate.
Note: The same thing happens vice versa where a female character will show a couple of masculine traits and people will say she's trans, or just call her a bitch because she's "aggressive" which is extremely sexist and a product of years worth of internalized misogyny.
Just because he likes the way he looks, doesn't mean he's gay.
Just because he dances when he swings, doesn't mean he's a femboy.
Just because he has a colorful suit doesn't mean he's an uwu boy.
Stop feeding into gender norms and write characters properly. Write him like the 13/14 year old Indian boy he is, and integrate the qualities he has in the movie to make him accurate! If you don't know how to write him, ask an Indian writer how to make him accurate to his character! Ask an Indian fan how they believe Pavitr would act and I promise you, it'll be twice as accurate as whatever random headcanons people are placing onto him right now.
Why is this harmful?
Lets talk about SOUTH ASIAN REPRESENTATION.
For the longest time, South Asians have been portrayed on screen as nerdy techies, comedians, cabbies or corner-store owners. These inauthentic portrayals of South Asians, especially Indians are harmful to the South Asian narrative and help further negative stereotypes about our race and our culture.
South Asian culture has been portrayed by Hollywood as dirty, overly traditional, and movies representing South Asian culture ten to be Oscar-baiting movies made by white men that border on poverty porn.
There are few and I mean FEW well-made and well-researched South Asian characters in the media. I'd say two of the only well-written Indian characters in western media right now are Kingo from Eternals and Ali from Squid Game and even they have kinks they need to work out.
PAVITR IS IMPORTANT TO US!!
We finally got a South Asian character who speaks Hindi, lives in India, eats and drinks South Asian cuisine, has a South Asian girlfriend and a suit that screams cultural representation! His character was written by Indian writers and contained elements of India that aren't poking fun at our culture and our traditions!
He is REPRESENTATION.
So represent him properly.
Write him properly
For the brown kids that never got to see a superhero that looked like them when they were growing up.
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As always, sources under the cut <3
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theplottingapp · 1 year
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Shiva Trilogy, Mehula - Utopia or the First Order
So I'm reading the Shiva Trilogy for the first time and is no one bothered by the system at Mehula? I mean they take children at birth and don't let them ever meet their parents. Like this sounds like some Star Wars First Order Eugenics shit.
First off, babies need their parents to grow up properly and there is no indication that this is a race of people other than humans, so like I said, human babies need their parents for them to develop properly. This society shouldn't function at all! Children need love and support and personal attention from the get go to develop into sane individuals and a school, no matter how friendly, cannot provide that. To say nothing of the post partum depression each and every woman in this country would be going through.
The children are raised in a standard system. Which, again, First Order.
Talking from a Doylist perspective, what was the author thinking in making this a system that actually functions even for a decade much less centuries? It doesn't seem like a biologically, psychological or philosophically sane society to be able to make any advancement in anything much less be the most advanced country that other people are jealous of.
Instead of advocating for respect for the lower castes the author makes it so that no one knows who the lower caste people are. But the root of the problem - disdain for lower classes remains.
This worldbuilding makes absolutely no sense!
A similar system I've seen was in Shadow and Bone, but even then children were tested at the age of ten, not taken at birth. And even then there is some leeway.
The author's intention confused me and this sound like the premise of a horror story rather than a hero's journey.
I read ahead on the wiki and apparently Shiva does go against the Meluhans but it's for something about Somras. I haven't gotten that far to know what it exactly is but to make some McGuffin the reason to fight the clearly bad Bad Guys seems weak.
Am I wrong? Coz I know this was a popular series. Did no one else see this? Was this addressed in the books? Why is no one horrified by the system?
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lonerangerr · 10 months
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I tried my best to hide my feelings, but my eyes couldn't
-Unknown
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desisapphicx · 1 year
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Midnight Ruin
Chapter 1
The woman at the head of the table was adjusting the pleats on her saree, and when she was done, she cleared her throat and drew the attention of her family.
"Before beginning our breakfast, I want to make sure all the preparations have been done for the ball," She said.
"Yes, Amma." answered Pushkar. He sat to her left and his wife Revathy was next to him, perking up at the mention of the ball, she loved parties more like she thrived on them, and probably she could die in one if she had a choice. Sadly, her misaligned priorities sometimes hindered her in parenthood. Not that she didn't love her hyperactive kids, she did, but she could be so unwitting at times, that she would be blind to her kids' needs, this has been one of the few factors for petty squabbles that ensues between her and Pushkar. The two seats next to her remain empty, usually occupied by her twins. The little tots were not the only missing but their Grandpa as well, so his seat opposite Revathy remain untouched. The other seats were filled by two sets of uncles and aunts. Who were just waiting for their moment to speak, but considering how Latha was they'd rather stuff their mouths with delicacies set on the table.
"Did you invite Iyers, their presence is impo-- where is Akanksha?" Latha began imposingly as usual but her question ended in confusion; eyes searching hastily for her daughter. She looked at her son, raising her thick brows in question.
"Um..." Pushkar tried to answer but she stopped him.
"Jaya, ask her to come, now."
"Yes, Amma" said the servant.
Latha was an imperious woman, she demanded everyone's attention as soon as she stepped into a room, such was her tenor. "I don't like this indiscipline," she clicked her tongue; the indignation on her face was so evident. She was scowling at her cutlery when she heard fading footsteps near the stairs, and as her daughter-shaped figure ambled near her view, her scowl deepened.
She took a good look at her daughter, dressed in a mid-length beige Kurti with handwoven golden embroidery running down her neckline and her sleeve cuffs, matching perfectly with her amber-gold cotton silk pants. Akanksha's dark brown hair was parted in middle but gleaned together in a bun at the back, yet few had escaped, now curling around her temple, her black bindi rivaled the mole sitting right at the smiling line of her left cheek. Her golden bangles chimed as she took a seat right to her mother.
When the savory whiff of sambar and the sight of fluffy idlies beckoned to her, she couldn't resist, moreover her stomach was making weird noises of someone starved for eons. She started serving herself when she heard her mother clear her throat. "Do you want it?" She held a piece of idli to her mother, her mother shook her head in disapproval. Akanksha just shrugged--- she was nonchalant about her mother's attitude and so she continued having. Apparently, she was the only one who could stand on her toes with her amma.
"You can continue," She said to her mother.
"I cannot comprehend how dense can you be," her mother exclaimed.
Akanksha paid no mind to it, Latha stared at her for some more time--- going over ways to subdue her daughter, she huffed in annoyance before smoothly transitioning into her placid poise.
"As I was saying, Iyers are important and also some other thing I wanted to say," Latha voiced and the silence that followed was quite extended, a bit too long that even Akanksha's interest piqued, not much, but she lent her ear, anyway.
"I want to invite the Kamats." Akanksha stopped having, piping hot sambar burned her throat as she took a big gulp and her spoon fell on the plate with a loud clank. "What?" She said before adding, "Are you serious? Why them?" She glanced at her brother, trying to understand if he was involved in this utter-ridiculous decision but by the clueless look on his face, she knew not. She looked back at her mother, whose serene face faltered for a moment, the hatred for the family was monumental, it snaked with its bitter venom in all of them, and yet here they were, inviting their foes with gilded smiles.
"The decision is already made, it is not up for debate" She quieted the jabbering room. She motioned for them to start with their tiffin, before looking at Akanksha with a tinge of malice in her eyes and a mocking smile, she said, "You'll be the one hosting"
***
Kesar was tapping to the radio's rhythm on his thin steering wheel, the little pitter-patter on the window pane was blending perfectly with the music streaming into the car. "Should we stop at the tea stall? The weather is good to have a cup, don't you think?" he took a glance at his friend and furrowed his brows.
Akanksha was fiddling with her pearl necklet. Her ears were red and itchy, but she wouldn't give in, she didn't want to feed her nervous habits but her brain was fast in its functioning; sending a stimulus and her hands were quick enough to catch those brain signals and there she was scratching at it, but it yielded no satisfaction whatsoever. Looking at her Kesar was concerned as to what is going on with his good friend.
"What is it?"
"Nothing"
He stared at her for a few moments, "You can tell me"
"Amma has put me in a funny situation" She laughed wryly. She went quiet after that and Kesar hummed for her response, he wanted to prod her into telling him what is bothering her but he knew otherwise.
"Well, how about we have some coffee?"
"Yeah, that would be great" She looked out the window losing herself in the pitter patter of the rain against the car window.
***
For Akanksha, the room was too crowded, but she had to push through it, she greeted a few people on her way, it wouldn't hurt to be polite sometimes. When she made up her mind and settled down at her seating bench, she was overcome with a gnawing feeling of absence, of something familiar yet strange. Her nails traced the doodles etched on the wooden slab and her eyes picked up the vagueness of her thoughts and began searching for that familiarity, and soon they found their way to the lean figure sitting against the column of the banyan tree, the breeze blew through the dark brown tresses and flipped the pages of the book too hastily; the person was struggling to manage between untangling and reading. Before she could see more of it, the curtain was drawn between her and the view. She could hear a distant thank you, and when she pulled herself from her hazed thoughts, the class had already begun.
The lecture was halfway through when there was a knock on the door, and her curly letters came to a halt; the class got mute for a beat before the yammering noises swelled the space. The door was opened to a woman costumed in a burgundy cable-knit sweater and pleated dress pants; her sleeves pulled back to her elbows showed off the gold bracelets and square-dialed watch, and her brown ankle boots were squeaky clean. The image of the woman seemed to have slowly seeped into her mind and when recognition hit her, instantly her gut recoiled with discontent.
After deftly convincing the professor to let her in, Prithvi walked into the classroom. While she made herself comfortable in her seat, she sensed someone watching her and when she turned around she caught a pair of Hazel eyes glaring at her, she couldn't help but smirk at Akanksha. And Akanksha sneered at her. Prithvi laughed it off and started taking notes. When the class was over, Akanksha and Prithvi were the only ones to leave at last. Prithvi made hurried notes, packed her case, and took quick steps toward the door. Meanwhile, Akanksha took all this in and just stared at the other girl's departure, a million thoughts running amuck in her mind. She was still thinking through, the act of inviting Prithvi would be so embarrassing and at the same time infuriating. What made her mother invite their family? What had changed? Guess she would never know, or would she?
***
They were all in the canteen. Most of them had their tiffin carriers opened on their tables and they all ate up their pieces of the meal and shared with their friends here and there, tasting different spices from all the families. Among them, Akanksha sat at her table along with her gang. Kesar was at the canteen counter to fill up his plate of parotta and sabzi, and Padma was mindlessly gazing through the newspaper, bored with the lack of gossip but the article about the exotic perfume caught her attention so her eyes were soaking it up. Shashi, Akanksha's cousin was nowhere to be seen.
"Looks like Shashi is cozying up with the enemy," said Venky. All the friends at the table immediately looked at Akanksha, letting out various sounds of oohs and aahs. They all wanted to see what she would do. And she remained stoic. She was super irritated that's for sure, but she didn't want that anyone to see that she was even bothered by this silly stunt by her stupid cousin. Shashi arrived all smiles at their table and Padma who was now caught up with the scene so far, asked her, "What were you doing with her?" Shashi replied, "Why, of course inviting her to my family ball" Akanksha's wits were off the charts just listening to her cousin but she was unflinching about maintaining her teetering patience for some reason. "Who told you to do that?"
"No one, I wanted to invite her, so I did"
"I am the one who is in charge here, without asking me, how could you invite her?"
"My dad said I could invite whoever I wanted to, and I have heard your mom has okayed inviting the Kamats so I thought, it wouldn't do any harm,"
Akanksha wanted to say so many things but controlled herself. "Well you thought wrong, you cannot invite people without going through me first, I hope that's clear to you, next time use that head of yours for something other than flirting" Shashi's cheeks got red in embarrassment and Akanksha was breathing rapidly, she urgently needed to get out of here. She opened the door of her blue 1950 Buick Road Master, she felt somewhat relieved that she was back to her space, her head leaning back on the car seat, the agitation in her was calming when she heard a knock on her window. Prithvi was there. She motioned to roll down the windows. Why doesn't this end? Thought Akanksha, she rolled her eyes, and complied. "You shouldn't have made such a scene there Princess"
"Mind your own business"
"I would've, if it wasn't about me"
"Whatever you want to preach, do it fast, I am getting late,"
"Your mother should also teach you more about how to be selfless,"
"You-"
"Excuse me, I forgot for a second, with whom I am talking, it must run in your blood to humiliate others"
"Is that all?" Akanksha started her car, and reversing it, and she heard Prithvi calling out from her rear view mirror,
"Go on Princess, run away, being nice doesn't suit you anyways"
Akanksha just took off, not heeding to her.
***
A/N: Ah! after a long time, I am here. Sorry for the delay... As I said before, this story is updated very slowly, I don't even know, if people even read this shit. Anyways, if you find this chapter to be subpar and if you come across any grammatical errors, I am really sorry. I have written this in a rush and I will edit this someday, so whoever is reading this, thank you 💖
P.S: My recent favourite listen is, The Winner Takes It All by ABBA, what's your favourite?
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zoovisfic · 3 months
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My writing buddy
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normalweirdoboy · 2 years
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When The Periwinkles Wilt
By Agniva Maiti (me)
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Guys! After a whole month of compiling, editing and formatting, my new short story and poetry anthology is finally out for purchase on Amazon!
It's available in three formats on Amazon: ebook, black&white and colour.
You can read the Kindle version for free if you have Kindle Unlimited ;)
🇮🇳amazon.in (only kindle edition)
🇺🇲amazon.com (kindle, b&w, colour)
🇬🇧amazon.co.uk (kindle, b&w, colour)
🇫🇷amazon.fr (kindle, b&w, colour)
🇮🇹amazon.it (kindle, b&w, colour)
🇨🇦amazon.ca (kindle, b&w, colour)
🇦🇺amazon.com.au (only kindle and b&w)
also available in other countries, just go check in your country's amazon store ^^
I'm planning on going to another publisher to get the paperback version in Indian stores, I'll update you guys.
Well, cheers!
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Made myself a kiwi-aloe-pomegranate juice cocktail to celebrate 😆 Doesn't taste as disgusting as it looks lol.
Book description:
"When the Periwinkles Wilt is a beautiful and insightful exploration of emotion and love. It deals with complicated feelings and not always knowing exactly what to do or how to feel."
"...a constant echo of internal melodrama and domestic misery. The friction between serenity and chaos, love and longing- living under the burden of humanity’s collective moral ambiguity."
I think most of you will agree when I say “Life is a rollercoaster ride”. And I really like this analogy. In life, there are ups and downs. It’s calm when the rollercoaster goes up but when it goes down again, it scares the hell out of you. Then next time when you go uphill, the thoughts of the inevitable downfall haunt you. Life is pretty much the same.
Eventually, you start to hate the high and prefer to stay in the low, because it hurts more to fall from higher ground.
This book is about the low, not the high. It contains poems and short stories related to various themes like depression, peer and parental pressure, rejection, self-hate etc., though at first glance they might all seem like heartbreak poems (not that there’s a dearth of them here... ). Love, friendship and relationships are the main foci of this book. The writings are divided into six separate categories just to organise them and make them easier for you to navigate.  I’ve always wanted to compile something of this sort since the time I published my first poetry anthology ‘These were not for you’ under a pseudonym. Why did I use a pen name back then? And why am I publishing these in my name? Well, I don’t have a definite answer to that. Maybe because I’ve since come to accept these thoughts and emotions. I’ve learned not to be ashamed of the ‘low’. There’s certain calmness in these melancholic themes and a lesson of stoicism. Bad days will come, there’s no avoiding them. But what matters is how you deal with them and even more important, what you learn from the experience.
Not all relationships work out, not all friends stay, not all ventures lead you to success, but that's obvious, isn't it? Happiness is fleeting, and once it’s gone, all you’ll be left with is that same feeling of destitution. But we must learn to accept it. Running away will not solve the problem. I’ve had friends who took to addictive means to escape this reality, I’ve seen people talk of death as if it were a saviour; I’ve also known some of the most optimistic and light-hearted personalities in my short lifespan on this planet. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t spend enough days locked up in my room, crying my eyes out or seeking to ‘escape’. Though my forms of escapism were much milder: books, poetry, the internet, music...
The aim of this book is not to give you false hope. I won’t say crap like, “everything will be okay, give it some time” or “it’s okay not to be okay”. Everything might not be okay and I know it sucks not to be okay. What I want you to do, my reader is to accept. Accept the bad, ‘cause it is inevitable. Just learn to live through it, smile through it. You’ve come this far, my friend, you can do it. I believe in you and I want you to believe in yourself. And maybe these few poems and stories will give you some solace when the times are bad.
Hope you will enjoy my amateurish works, and I wish you all the very best in life.
-   Ogni, 3rd July 2022, Dimapur
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lxdymoon0357 · 2 years
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Heard you're an Indian..... I'm an Indian as well. It's actually quite a strange thing that around half the fandoms of anime, manhwa, manhua, webtoons are actually Indian and Indian writers never actually reveal them selves as their nationality and their writing are top tiers like yours, so wondering if .....
मैं आपके ब्लॉग से कुछ पूछ सकती हु?
I copy-pasted it from google translate, but don't worry I wrote it.
तुम सबसे अच्छे हो मेरे प्यार!
Janu, of course you can request anything you want and I understand what you are saying about Indian writers and half the fandom being Indian, it is upsetting seeing Indian creators not getting the amount of credit they deserve, but i really enjoy a fellow Indian on my blog, hope you have a good time here
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duskytaless · 8 months
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Is it only me who thinks everything is fake: humans, relationships, sceneries, surroundings? Don't they all feel like a set up of a play? My every reply or reaction are plotted even before I could think, and I just do it like some robot having no control.
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paledreamerzombie · 1 year
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Sabrina Patel just posted a short story dedicated to DPR IAN and I am screaming she based the whole story on Ian with added fiction, go read it
sabrinapatel.com and its called MITO
i love this,
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imab00kwh0r3 · 2 years
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shared meal and glances
the laughs and singing of ur family could be heard throughout the neighbourhood, it was a wedding after all. the dhol players were playing a folk song and all the old ladies were performing a dance carried down through generations on this auspicious occasion as u snuck in to the kitchen. the spice of masala paneer drowned ur senses in a feeling of comfort and the rice warmed u on this rather cold night. the slight clinking of payals echoed through the halls as the door opened revealing charcoal eyes, wide with surprise and a little embarrassment.
her hair was tied into a bun and adorned with a lily while a green tikka sat on her forehead like a queen on her throne; her bangles were a deep emerald, complementing her white and mint lengha as if it was made from vines and fauna of a mythical forest. an emerald necklace decorated her neck while her dupatta hanged off one shoulder and threatened to fall off on the other, draped like the stubborn roots of an elderly tree.
she was ethereal.
she asked to share ur food, nervousness vanishing as u handed her a spoon. u introduced urself as u both shared a meal and glances under the moonlight seeping through the window.
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amomentwiser · 1 year
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Parents be like, "Your generation is always on the phone, that's why you don't talk."
Did it ever occur to you I'm on my phone because I don't wanna talk to you? That if you weren't so critical, I would automatically prefer your company to mindlessly scrolling Instagram?
Taking my phone away won't help. I wouldn't talk to you even if the alternative was watching paint dry. Because you don't actually want to talk to me, do you? You don't want to hear about how your actions have hurt me; the profound insecurity that is embedded deep in my bones; the fact that I want you to stop saying some things because they make me sad and anxious; or any of my beliefs that dare to be different from yours.
No, you don't want to talk. And neither do I. The phone, sir, is the only thing keeping this interaction civil. It's the only way I can bear your presence.
Because if I started talking, really talking, about everything that's on my mind, I wouldn't know how to stop.
And your generation can't deal with that.
Your generation is always on the run from emotions. That's why we don't talk.
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Just finished this book by a good friend. Recommended if you’re into Gonzo-style writing of life in urban India in the modern day.
Available on Amazon and everywhere else you’d find books, I guess.
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Happiness had always made me more responsive to nature. Feeling miserable, my thoughts turned inward. I brooded upon the trickery of time and circumstance; I felt the years were passing by, had passed by, like waves on a receding tide, leaving me washed up like a bit of flotsam on a lonely beach. But at the same time, the whistling thrush seemed to mock at me, calling tantalisingly from the shadows of the ravine; ‘It isn’t time that’s passing by, it is you and I, it is you and I …’
- Ruskin Bond
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lonerangerr · 10 months
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A caged bird
I had a bird in a cage,
i provided everything to that bird.
he had water without going miles,
he had shelter without toil for it,
he had food without searching for it,
But one day when he got the opportunity to escape from the cage....he flew leaving everything behind.
Although, he gave me a lesson that even if he gets every faculty even a gold cage but still he will yearn for liberty; yearn for the open sky; yearn to open his wings; to fly without boundaries.
Now I've realized that "The cage was like a prison for that bird"🕊️
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kumbhakarni · 2 years
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just wanted to ask, what is wrong with the amish.tripathi books? I'm curious to know
Nothing is "wrong" per se. It's just that they're not exactly my cup of tea. They're kind of tropey and clichéd, for me. I won't deny that the author tries to incorporate creative elements or venture into the unknown territory. It's just that in whatever sphere it is- research or creative elements, characterization, world-building etc. the author doesn't venture too far from the tested path. It often feels like some stereotypical fantasy retelling with the same stock characters with a sprinkle of south Asian culture into them. And I don't really blame the author for that. The genre he's working with is still quite untested as an arena in India, it involves substantial risk. He sure as anything is trying to go for something new while sticking to the safe path but that's kinda off-putting for someone who desires something avant-garde. And it's slightly annoying when they tout the same old thing as a "fresh" perspective, every single time.(And this applies to most mythological retellings, not just Amish's books)
And by this I'm not dissing those that love Amish tripathi's book. I made that ask to papenathys because I wanted something that suited my personal preferences.
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