Chaitanya’s Quill

Post Number 43: A Semi-Nomadic Take On The Idea Of Home

Posted on by Candid Wallflowers

An essay exploring the meaning of home, after a life lived on traveling for a while

Some weeks ago in Lisbon, I was asked to fill out a form where I had to write my address. In between countries, as I was then, I asked the receptionist if I had to write my Indian address, my campus address (because of which I was travelling), or the French place where I was living for the past few months. She shrugged nonchalantly and went back to chewing her gum. I scribbled something and returned the form but in that moment I was already thinking about this – about home.

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Post Number 42 : The Importance of Telling Different Stories

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An essay exploring the need to read and write diverse narratives

I read ‘Beloved’ recently. Beloved is the Pulitzer winning novel by the African-American author, Toni Morrison. Toni’s novels have all focussed on life as an African American. Her characters have always been unapologetically ‘ethnic’ in their thoughts, actions, and beliefs. She was once asked in an interview if she’d consider writing about white people substantially, to which she had responded –

I have had reviews in the past that have accused me of not writing about White people…as though our lives have no meaning and no depth without the White gaze. And I’ve spent my entire writing life trying to make sure that the White gaze was not the dominant one in any of my White books.

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Post Number 41 : The Loneliness of Superheroes, Revisited

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An article exploring the potential of showing vulnerability of the superheroes in Avengers

Warning : Possible spoilers ahead

I am not a huge Marvel fan. That’s not the greatest way to begin an article this week but it is what it is. That didn’t stop me from watching ‘Avengers: Endgame’ though. I was perhaps in the minority there even though I’ve read a fair amount of the comics and know the characters. Judging by the screams and shouts of the people in the audience as superheroes came and went, I definitely questioned my place in the hall. It was the sensation of being an outsider, like someone who is new to a social setting and can’t figure out what the joke at the party was about. However, this piece isn’t about that. While watching the movie, all that was playing in my mind was the article written by John DeVore called ‘The Loneliness of Superheroes’.

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Post Number 40 : The Dying Art of Being Present

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I recently attended a show which was 20 minutes of non-stop death-defying stunts. Instead of your usual jumps and tricks on bikes and cars, the artists created an interesting storyline and built the stunts around it. There were wheelies done through cars, a ‘Hot-Wheels’ track in real life, bikes rotating in mid-air and a Mortal Kombat styled fight sequence. It was so engrossing! Yet I was so amused at seeing how so many people were more interested in filming it than actually watching it. Was documenting that moment really more important than living it?

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Post Number 39 : Learning to Deal with this Adulthood Thing

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I remember being younger and smaller and looking up to people in their 20s with this rose-tinted lens; of hope, of admiration, of wonderment. These people looked so aspirational, so sorted, so aware of who they were and what they did. While I observed them with a glass of Pepsi in my hand, they looked so damn cool discussing ‘office’ with a beer in theirs. Office. It seemed like the be-all-and-end-all at that age. All roads led there. It was to be the outcome of the rigors and pain of filling notebooks and giving exams during school time. Life would be sorted, I was told. Just work hard during school.

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Post Number 37 : Reconnecting with Reading

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I used to go to school in a yellow-green DTC bus that roared and wheezed as if it was seconds away from a breakdown. And many a time it did. But what I remember most from that time was the unadulterated joy I would get from reading on the 45-minute journey. The light breeze, muted chatters, and (mostly) sleeping kids made for an interesting reading environment. I would either read my textbooks or if I felt fancy, a novel that I’d take with me. It didn’t matter what others thought or said. If my eyes were in my book, chances were, my other senses were oblivious to the world outside.

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Post Number 36 : Coping with Change

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I recall reading somewhere as a kid that “The only thing constant is change”. I’m sure I was impressed with how fancy it sounded, its play of words and the juxtaposition therein. I am certain I noted it somewhere so that I can sneak it into any essay or debate I could, to get brownie points. And I’m confident I did write or quote it whenever I could. But like most, I never really paused to think of what it meant, until now.

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Post Number 35 : Surviving the FIFA World Cup –The 411

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Q: Did you hear that Chelsea doesn’t have a website?

A: They can’t string three “Ws” together. 

 
Q: What does a fine wine and Liverpool have in common?

A: They both spend a lot of time in the cellar, cost too much and are only enjoyed on select occasions. 

If these jokes went past your head like Engineering went past mine, then we’re in the same boat. Fret not if you can’t recall 10 footballers’ names if a gun was pointed to your head. If you too, like me, find football a S-pain in the ass, then Ronaldo-n’t worry, I am here to get you out of this Messi situation. I helped you survive Cricket World Cup season a couple of years ago and now I am back with my totally unneeded, entirely pointless brand of social assistance by using the opportunity of the World Cup to Russi(a)n and Putin as many puns and tasteless jokes as I possibly can.

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Post Number 33 – On The Brink Of Farewell

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The season of farewell is upon us. As we move into our last few weeks of college, the level of nostalgia and happiness is palpable. My Facebook and Instagram feed is already inundated with tons and tons of pictures. Pictures that are a lot more than just the few seconds it took to click them. All of them carry within them stories, laughs, tears, friendships and so much more. They are sacred, in some mysterious way. And we have the luxury today to document each and every one of these moments. But I can’t bring myself to share mine on social media. Come to think of it, I haven’t properly wrapped my head around the idea of what college and college life meant to me. Read More

Post Number 31 : On Sadness and its kinds

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Reflecting upon the last few weeks of my epeolatry adventures, I’ve sensed a profoundly universal theme running through the books. Sadness. If asked to define sadness, most of us would spring to the definition of happiness so that we may create contrasts. Would that suffice though? Emphatically not. For in the books that I read, sadness itself was a continuum. In A Little Life, it was unflinching, dark, and encompassing. In The Casual Vacancy, it was an unpleasant presence. In The Bell Jar, it was a looming shadow, following Esther everywhere. In I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings, it was deeply entwined with hope. And in The Color Purple, it was slowly receding, giving way to a long-pending and deserving joy for Celie.

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