Stories that demand to be told | #11
I had never been one to endure harassment in silence. After thoughtful consideration and seizing a moment when the bus jolted, I stomped on the man’s feet. Once. Then, again. And for a third time.
This is the eleventh edition of Stories that demand to be told, a curated spread of the most evocative, resonant, real stories. Welcome to Ochre Sky Stories, a home for writers from the Ochre Sky Workshops, facilitated by
and .
1. Unpacking the Shadows of a Metropolis by
Should I scream and risk the judgment of fellow passengers (many of whom were known to my uncle)? Should I alight from the bus, sacrificing my class attendance? Or should I maintain a facade of indifference, pretending nothing was amiss? While the last one was an attractive thought, I had never been one to endure harassment in silence. Fortunately, the small-town girl within me had yet to embrace the fashion trends of the metropolis; I still sported dainty kitten heels, far from the comfort of sneakers or flats.
After thoughtful consideration and seizing a moment when the bus jolted, I stomped on the man’s feet. Once. Then, again. And for a third time. I cannot recall precisely how many times I did it, nor did I feel any need to apologise.
2. Crossing the Viliya by
Amid these pushes and pulls of my mind, the decluttering insight came from the oddest, most unexpected source: me. One evening, I remembered the advice that I’d given another writer earlier in the day. It had seemed very intelligent when I’d said it, but it was absolutely piercing in a rerun. Writing well comes down to overcoming doubt and staying humble, I’d said. This, in turn, depends on deeply internalising two difficult truths, I’d added. The truths I’d mentioned were:
I am not small.
The world is bigger than me.
3. Starlit Discoveries: A Journey of Passion and Self-Discovery in Southern Utah by
Over the past few years, I’ve been on this wild ride of self-healing, piecing myself back together with a whole lot of resilience and a sprinkle of stubbornness. Every step has been a crash course in self-love and realizing, hey, I’m pretty awesome just as I am. This trip drove home the point: I’m not alone in this. I met so many incredible women who are out there living life on their own terms, even at 67—like Mary, who’s basically the queen of badassery... it lit a fire under me and gave me a fresh sense of purpose, not to mention a newfound zest for life.
4. Caught by powerful undertows, oceanic and emotional by
Each triggering news item draws us deeper into the miasma of despair, shame and rage. This is a powerful undertow that takes us back to all our past experiences of trauma and gaslighting, of being unseen and unheard, of being ever in danger, physically and certainly mentally, as we survived a society structured around male privilege. We drown once again and fear for our emotional survival. We desperately need succour.
5. This Thing About God etc by
I'll readily admit that writing an essay about God as a 35-year-old potentially cool person feels like wearing socks and open-toed sandals to Delhi Gymkhana Club. It feels unfashionable and risky.
The times feel like an unfunny cosmic joke. There is an endless stream of unspeakably horrible events reported from near and far. And scores of incompetent, bloviating tools in positions of high authority preside over these tragedies… Where is God in all of this?
6. Roots and Root Vegetables by
Dalma has become the poster child of Odia comfort food recently. In a combination of channa dal and toor dal boiled with a host of indigenous vegetables, tempered with panch phutana, and spiced with a special masala there is much to seek comfort in. Maybe it is the contrasting texture of the dals where the channa dal has retained a better memory of its past life. Maybe it is the vegetables all mixed and mashed yet preserving an identity. Or the delicious jugalbandi it has with a plate of steaming white rice and a dollop of gua ghia.
Dalma has a way of finding some nook for you where you can rest your weary head on.
7. How does one slow down people pleasing? by
Fast forward to the future, and one day, we get tired of ourselves. We begin to question why we need to make people happy. We realise that not all our efforts are people - pleasing are yielding the results we wanted. We tried so hard to be so good but it seems like that is not a fool-proof plan. We feel sorry for ourselves. Why do we need to be so good? What is good, anyway? It is like waking up from a long, deep nap. A nap of conformity. A nap of manipulation. It doesn’t refresh us. It leaves us feeling half-dead.
What woke us up was probably a physical response. An illness, a sinking feeling in the gut, or sleep playing hide and seek. Our body wakes us up from people-pleasing. The drug of appreciation begins to wear off. Everything we knew feels false.
8. Sid, The Superhero by
“ I can see from your face and body language you can’t stand these people; why are you wasting your time ? Don’t you have a book you want to write or wouldn’t you rather go home and binge on Good Wife Instead?”
“You obviously like this guy, When have you ever liked someone who’s actually nice to you ? When it can be easy, why are you only attracted to the challenge ?
“You’ll weep as though you’ve been handed a death sentence when you get through Harvard or get work contracts renewed. But let someone tell you, you look thin and you look so pleased and happy as if that’s your greatest achievement! Why are you such a lunatic” !!!
It’s the little things that make him my superhero.
9. Permission by
During one such session, we had a difficult combination of a particularly high pitched song and an untrained singer. With every line, the pitch would go higher and the singing, well, difficult.
I closed my eyes to concentrate on the words and not so much on the singing. Next moment, I hear some giggles. I closed my eyes harder trying to ignore them. The inner child in me was relentless. I gave in to the temptation and giggled, which slowly turned in to a laughter, and ROTF laughter, stomach hurting, eyes crying laughter. The singer was the kindest soul who joined all of us along with the teacher in this group laughing session. We had converted this deeply spiritual chanting session to a mad house of silly laughs and giggles.
10. 70s Always by
What a time it was to be in when we didn’t try to use, get ahead of, or dominate time. Time, as Oliver Burkeman puts it, was not to be a commodity, not a means to an end. You did what you could, you lived what you got hold of. How can you, anyway, use something that is all pervasive! It’s all there is and we are IN it.
So much like stories.
We move in and out of it. They were there, they are here and they will always be here, after us, beyond us, and probably even beyond time.
11. Brothers and Sisters — no strings attached, even on Rakshabandhan by
The generosity of brothers and the giggly gratitude of sisters. The reminder that the sister is vulnerable and the brother invincible. The announcement of the ‘auspicious’ time. As we became young adults, Rakshabandhan began to leave me cold.
All sisters are extraordinarily protective of their brothers. We need a festival that honours that too. So when I pick up the 3 bits of rice soaked in red and put that tilak on my brother’s forehead, the thought in my mind is, “Go on, my beloved, be the best version of yourself, I am here to protect you. To hold you.”
12. Writing a Kiss by
Kissing indeed is a spiritual act. I haven’t found anything more at the intersection of here and now than four lips, two tongues, and a few teeth having a little party. The world be damned. The stresses of daily life can go fuck themselves.
Kissing lulls the monkey mind into sweet stillness. And it’s not just a mouth party. The mind is invited, the heart bounces up into the throat, and the body downstairs prepares for further milan. Kissing unifies the scattered being that you are.
URDU se DOSTI, a beginner's workshop facilitated by Vimal Chitra
Urdu is a language of love, history, and poetry. Discover the jaadu of Urdu with poet, screenwriter and spoken word artist, Vimal Chitra in our 2 day workshop, Urdu Se Dosti
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