Is it a flag? Scattered remains of a flag? Scattered remains of a day on a starkly empty street in a starkly scorching day in sublime and sad Srinagar?
Priyamvada Gopal is currently a Reader in the Faculty of English, University of Cambridge and Fellow, Churchill College, UK. Her latest book, Insurgent Empire: Anticolonial Resistance and British Dissent, written and documented after years of painstaking research and original theoretical interventions and interpretations, is making waves across the academic circles and campuses in the West, especially in the UK and US. She was recently in New York, discussing the book.
Financial Accountability Network India has welcomed the Reserve Bank of India’s decision to remove charges for the RTGS and NEFT transactions and to form a committee under the chairmanship of Chief Executive Officer, Indian Banks’ Association, to “examine the entire gamut of ATM charges and fees”.
“As a group of civil societies, unions, NGOs and peoples movements, it has been our longstanding demand from the RBI and the government that it look into the matter of bank charges and take immediate actions to remove all the charges,” said the network in a statement.
Amit Sengupta, Delhi
What Bengal thinks today, India thinks tomorrow!
The other one, Borges, is the one to whom things happen … It would be an exaggeration to say that our relationship is hostile; I live, I keep on living, so that Borges can weave his literature, and that literature justifies me.
The cold-blooded and cynical use of the Pulwama massacre of soldiers by Narendra Modi lacks both ethics and humanity
Amit Sen Gupta
So, don’t say, they did not warn you! India – be prepared
One hundred years after the October revolution, will the young India dare to fight the rise of fascism
In David Lean’s classic, Lawrence of Arabia, which I saw last week for the first time ever, you can see the classic long distance, high altitude desert landscapes
Wrote a hunger striker in JNU, who is still going strong on the 10th day as I write this, a simple Facebook post: “Water is the elixir of life.” He would know, because he has survived just on water for the last ten days in this heat which walks on the streets like sleeping snakes. And this is water from an earthen pot with the smell of the earth and the scorching season of summer of the Hindi heartland. And, yet, he is quiet, like a poet, and he smiles, like a tree.
Seasons arrive and leave like music. They leave soundlessly, like mother’s footsteps and the sound of her bangles, like music. An ode to joy, sometimes – Beethoven’s unheard symphony. Sometimes, an ode to the hard labour of the poorest and the peasants, celebrating, with Salil Chaudhary. And yet, there is an ache in some part of the body and soul. Perhaps in the inner-most recesses of the skin. Eyes. Fingers. Eyelashes. I grow old, I grow old. I wear my trousers rolled, as TS Eliot would say.
Death is an unceasing narrative.