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So our dearest ruling party has hired a committee to rewrite India's history. I don't know if I should laugh or cry about it incoherently for a long time.
So our dearest ruling party has hired a committee to rewrite India’s history. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry about it incoherently for a long time.
Now, now, don’t get confused. As reported by NDTV, the Modi Government has appointed a group of people to dig into history and connect the very first inhabitants of our countries with the modern day Hindus to establish and India is indeed, ‘Hindu’stan and all that we’ve been taught about our land being named after the Indus river, the land of unity in diversity, blah blah is just passing the time till the real deal comes out.
According to this NDTV report above, “The committee’s chairman, KN Dikshit, told Reuters, “I have been asked to present a report that will help the government rewrite certain aspects of ancient history.” The committee’s creator, Culture Minister Mahesh Sharma, confirmed in an interview that the group’s work was part of larger plans to revise India’s history.”
I mean I’m not saying this is ridiculous but…I’m not saying it’s not not-ridiculous either. First they changed a Rajput king’s defeat into a victory out of some screwed sense of…I don’t even know what and now this. And I was kidding myself with the fact that acche din would at least pretend to begin with giving a damn about issues like poverty, hunger, and the likes but looks like that’s too mainstream for this government. Amazing!
But hey! This is not fair, I mean they get to rewrote history to glorify themselves but I can’t live in peace without being pestered with 600 messages everyday to link my soul to my aadhar card? Not cool, nope. If only I could rewrite history according to my convenience, what a life it would be! Here’s a list!
First of all the things in the world, can I please re-write my 12th grade percentage? Now don’t go off telling me that board exams aren’t everything and so on. Let’s face it: the education system is such that if you don’t hack it, your opportunities get hampered. And that’s not me whining but stating facts, unless of course you have loads of money or you are a child prodigy in a movie. Then you might have a chance.
So any law written ages ago counts as history right? I’d definitely like to re-write those ‘historical’ laws about marital rape and, of course! the section 377 that the govt has shut its senses to. Not only these but all those policies which make me dependent on the name of my father or husband like I have no existence without any of the two.
You know, if possible I would really like to rewrite all these gender roles that have been printed into our brains. That would be pretty cool, huh? Think of half the issues of this world, poof, vanish into thin air. Everyday would be women’s day then. Maybe I’m being too utopian but a girl can dream. Sigh.
And oh, how can I forget! Rewrite history from a multi-dimensional point of view and not just about men whining and fighting all through time. So annoying, especially when you realise the amount of amazing narratives that were lost into this muddle of documentation.
Oh, and the Indian elections of 2014 and the American elections of 2016 could also do very well with being rewritten. But then, maybe this is a lesson that we’re learning the hard way. shrugs
Maybe if I could rewrite all this, the situation wouldn’t have come to what it has. Sigh.
Anyway, tell us what would you like to rewrite if you had the power, below!
New Delhi, India
I like to read, write, and talk. A feminist through and through, with a soft spot for chocolate. read more...
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As he stood in front of his door, Nishant prayed that his wife would be in a better mood. The baby thing was tearing them apart. When was the last time he had seen his wife smile?
Veena got into the lift. It was a festival day, and the space was crammed with little children dressed in bright yellow clothes, wearing fancy peacock feather crowns, and carrying flutes. Janmashtami gave her the jitters. She kept her face down, refusing to socialize with anyone.
They had moved to this new apartment three months ago. The whole point of shifting had been to get away from the ruthless questioning by ‘well-wishers’.
“You have been married for ten years! Why no child yet?”
I huffed, puffed and panted up the hill, taking many rest breaks along the way. My calf muscles pained, my heart protested, and my breathing became heavy at one stage.
“Let’s turn back,” my husband remarked. We stood at the foot of Shravanbelagola – one of the most revered Jain pilgrimage centres. “We will not climb the hill,” he continued.
My husband and I were vacationing in Karnataka. It was the month of May, and even at the early hour of 8 am in the morning, the sun scorched our backs. After visiting Bangalore and Mysore, we had made a planned stop at this holy site in the Southern part of the state en route to Hosur. Even while planning our vacation, my husband was very excited at the prospect of visiting this place and the 18 m high statue of Lord Gometeshwara, considered one of the world’s tallest free-standing monolithic statues.
What we hadn’t bargained for was there would be 1001 granite steps that needed to be climbed to have a close-up view of this colossal magic three thousand feet above sea level on a hilltop. It would be an understatement to term it as an arduous climb.
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