And what if you could fly?

Haven't you wished you could escape the road traffic jams and commute in the sky instead? Do you anticipate being stuck in a 'sky jam'?

Here's a new comic I wrote for The Big Picture in Mint  ('Sky Jam', 27th June 2015): 

and what if plants had the power of speech?

I've often thought about what everyday life might be like if plants could talk to us? This comic with some beautiful art by Vartika is the result of that pondering:
http://mintonsunday.livemint.com/news/speaking-trees/2.3.3057681950.html

A review of 'Sleeping on Jupiter'

At the heart of the story is an ashram that was led by a powerful, politically linked guru, and the abuse and torture of orphaned or war-affected children who were being brought up there as his wards. The connivance of many other adults who are not merely mute witnesses but active participants to this torture, puts a gruesome, frightening edge to the story. There is an excruciating feeling that the reader knows where this is heading and yet, with every page turned, dreads the revelation. There is little trace of theashram when the adult Nomi returns to Jarmuli but she finds a hint of the old dangers still lurking about in the town in the garb of monks, who are still a threat to vulnerable young boys like Raghu.

Each character brings her (or his) own baggage to Jarmuli. 

Read the full review here: http://www.livemint.com/Leisure/VzxI6i5b8JUccDdTJe1kLJ/Book-Review-Sleeping-on-Jupiter-by-Anuradha-Roy.html

An excerpt from the Introduction to Unbound

Editors and writers, male and female, have equated domestic themes with dullness, or the lack of imaginative daring. In fact, there was a time when I (and I’m squirming as I write this) used to say that I didn’t care much for ‘kitchenized’ fiction. It took me over a year of exclusively reading women writers to realize how deep and strong the roots of my own bias were and how foolish our undermining of ‘domestic’ fiction.

Of course it’s domestic! Patriarchy is nothing if not domestic. Besides, there is more sex, violence, politics and overall drama in the average household than, say, the average office. Why are we surprised if domestic settings are chosen for fiction? From such settings emerge stories of great rebellion, and poetry that directly challenges the myths fed to us over thousands of years.

Hindi writer Krishna Sobti had once said in an interview that she wants to have fun, to live and not just write. She also said that families and marriages were anti-art, anti-writing. Yet, it is marriage and family that form the basis of her own writing. Her delicately crafted, aurally delicious novel Dil-o-Danish (translated as ‘The Heart has its Reasons’) is firmly domestic. It tells of endless manoeuvring by women as they struggle for economic security and personal dignity. And while the bold reclamation of a woman’s sexuality was one aspect of her novel Mitro Marjani (To Hell With You, Mitro), it was also the story of a joint family.

A longer excerpt from my introduction to Unbound: 2,000 Years of Indian Women's Writing can be found here: Editors and writers, male and female, have equated domestic themes with dullness, or the lack of imaginative daring. In fact, there was a time when I (and I’m squirming as I write this) used to say that I didn’t care much for ‘kitchenized’ fiction. It took me over a year of exclusively reading women writers to realize how deep and strong the roots of my own bias were and how foolish our undermining of ‘domestic’ fiction.

Of course it’s domestic! Patriarchy is nothing if not domestic. Besides, there is more sex, violence, politics and overall drama in the average household than, say, the average office. Why are we surprised if domestic settings are chosen for fiction? From such settings emerge stories of great rebellion, and poetry that directly challenges the myths fed to us over thousands of years.

Hindi writer Krishna Sobti had once said in an interview that she wants to have fun, to live and not just write. She also said that families and marriages were anti-art, anti-writing. Yet, it is marriage and family that form the basis of her own writing. Her delicately crafted, aurally delicious novel Dil-o-Danish (translated as ‘The Heart has its Reasons’) is firmly domestic. It tells of endless manoeuvring by women as they struggle for economic security and personal dignity. And while the bold reclamation of a woman’s sexuality was one aspect of her novel Mitro Marjani (To Hell With You, Mitro), it was also the story of a joint family.

More of the Introduction excerpted here: http://www.livemint.com/Leisure/RFTsUHoRDcxJroUmmFXJsJ/Excerpt--Unbound-Edited-by-Annie-Zaidi.html

Honestly speaking

Have you never wondered what exactly goes into your food, and where it comes from, and what it does to you? What if your food actually gave you all the facts about itself?

Here's me doing some dreaming:
http://mintonsunday.livemint.com/news/honest-food/2.3.2758995882.html