What Elizabeth Gilbert Said

Sometimes you read a book that informs not the technicalities of your writing, but the very reason to write. It kindles in you a fire to try and follow the path prescribed in it, not in a biblical enlightening way, but more as a reminder of what you already knew deep inside. Truth is, it tells you what you have never articulated to yourself, in those thoughtful silences or stolen moments of reflection, in a language that only your mind hacks through. If so, capturing those truths in words is a task indeed. I’m glad this was one of those books.

Having never read Elizabeth Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love I was not familiar with her writing style. Not a huge fan of stories that are about coming to India for spiritual self-actualization, honestly. But I had watched a TED video of her talking about imagination, muses  and creativity. It was impressive. And so, I started reading Big Magic: Creative Living Beyond Fear by Gilbert, expecting something on similar lines. The first few pages were in fact right out of that TED video. But as I read on and on, I realized that Gilbert was redefining the truths and busting myths around creativity. Here are my major takeaways.

  • It takes courage to create anything. To create, not even to put it out there, but just to live in a creative way. When courage dies, creativity dies. Fear is not original, its boring and mundane.
  • Ideas are driven by a single impulse: to be made manifest, and it could be by anybody available, in the right mindset. You don’t choose the idea, the idea chooses you. This is inspiration. And there’s enough to go around for everyone.
  • Whatever is bad for you, is bad for your work. Being a tormented artist and seeking out harrowing or self-destructive experiences in order to write about them is silly. Maybe the experiences make you a stronger person, a wiser person, but believing your writing is any worse, because you have not had a tough life, is an immature thought. Love over suffering, always.
  • Don’t wait for anybody’s permission or admiration to be creative. Decorate yourself. Embrace the entitlement of being creative. There’s a reason why man created art, even before he learned to farm.
  • You are not required to save the world or make a difference with your works. Nothing is frivolous. Every idea deserves to be manifest. Nothing is original, but you can make something authentic. Maybe an idea has been made manifest before, but it has not been made manifest by you.
  • Your attempt to create should be divorced from your need for validation.
  • Don’t quit your job to write. Do not burden the results of your creativity with your financial debts. Do not tell it to pay the bills. It is okay to have a day job. Creativity was never meant to provide, it was only ever meant to inspire. To create is a wild and unexpected bonus from the universe.
  • Rejections will come. Keep them coming. You promised yourself you will be a writer and rejection letters don’t make you any less of a writer. Put it out for the sake of the idea. For the sake of your muse. Nobody has to like, love or even read what you write. Its a tryst between you and the content. And its nobody else’s business. Do it just because. Do it because its fun.
  • Enjoy the phases of your creativity. Even the hard times. The act is worth it.
  • It matters/it doesn’t matter. Build space in your head for this paradox.
  • Trickster Trust: it’s a freaky wonderful game. Take it lightly. Redefine what success means to you. Divorce the business from the real deal. Your truth is probably the other person’s truth too. Your written words are probably what have been stuck in their throats. Accidental grace occurs when you’re playful and don’t keep store of the results. Go with the flow.
  • It ain’t your baby. If it has to be edited, it has to be edited.
  • Devote yourself to inquisitiveness. Curiosity is the death of writer’s block. The moment you say “that’s interesting!” is the moment a story idea shows up.
  • Your sense of dissatisfaction is your ego being a howling ghost. Remember that, every time you think being a perfectionist is a good thing. Done is better than good. Laziness and perfectionism are the worst habits for creative vocations.

All these are things that I had heard from people or read somewhere or realized at some point. How could she neatly capture all of this in one single book? I guess I shall come back to this every now and then… Almost makes me want to read Eat,Pray,Love.  Almost.

Leaf, thorn and Bharat-Mata


There is a saying in Malayalam that goes “it doesn’t matter whether the thorn falls on the leaf or the leaf falls on the thorn– the leaf is the one that’s damaged.” The leaf here is a metaphor for all women and thorn stands for all men. Culture-conscious log kya kahenge aunties and uncles use this saying to warn young girls: do not cross the socially prescribed sexual limits, for if you do, it is you who has to suffer. It does not matter if it’s the thorn that falls on the leaf, because the thorn shall escape unharmed and the leaf, damaged beyond repair. (I’m sure there must be versions of such sayings in other languages too. If not, please lend a ear to the arguments in an average Indian household, of a girl’s parents telling her to come home before 6 PM.) Symbols and metaphors do the same job subtly, that words do overtly. Hence, the need to see how symbols are shaped, just like how words are. Using such metaphors is one of the ways how we normalize victimizing females. This proverb, juxtaposed with the idea of Bharat-Mata shows how patriarchy creates type-casted ideas of women and subtly exposes our sexist mindsets. (I will not comment on the validity or necessity of the slogan concerning the said figure here; I shall only examine the symbolism of the same.) You see, depictions of Indian women (similar to female depictions elsewhere) go somewhat like this: she is either the fragile leaf condemned to be the victim or an abstraction of a nation, seemingly powerful, but obviously unreal. She’s either the angelic face on your TV serial with inhuman mental strength or the sex-siren in your favorite Bollywood “item” song. She is never rid of extremes, never free of the Virgin/Magdalene duality, never depicted as anything remotely moderate. She is either tremendously weak or tremendously strong. No middle path. Nada.


The leaf-thorn proverb is notable for its metaphors. Notice how man is the obvious phallic symbol, apparently undeterred by contact with the leaf. See how the idea of manhood is subtly hinted at, normalized in our mind every time we use the metaphor. Woman is the “leaf”, passive and apathetic, causing no positive or negative change to the “thorn.” In a very convoluted sense, one could argue that the metaphor simply states a social reality. After all, women apparently have more to lose by engaging in sexual liaisons with men— the dreaded “P” scare and slut-shaming, for starters. So couldn’t the proverb simply be commenting on how society perceives women? But how could we continue to talk about female empowerment in a society that does not even recognize the danger of using such a metaphor? It typecasts men and women, and every instance when it’s used, you basically say “it doesn’t matter whether you have given your consent or not, it is you who have to lose everything while men will remain men!” How can we teach our women to be independent and be their own selves, when we subtly tell them that their worth is dependent on their sexual life?


On one hand, women are portrayed as fragile and on the other hand, they are exalted to larger-than-life levels. Maybe Bharat-Mata, a well-meaning unifying symbol, was conceived as a personification of land, that provides us, nourishes us. What could be wrong with that? Isn’t it an honor for all Indian women that the nation is symbolized as a female? It’s just a slogan, like how leaf-thorn metaphor is just a proverb… JUST words, symbols, metaphors…That is what I thought too, initially when I spotted these recent squabbles over the Bharat-Mata slogan.


But then I realized… all of it has meaning, have history and ideologies behind it. The nation symbolized as a mother is similar to Earth symbolized as a mother. We forget that this symbol arises from the patriarchal (and frankly tribal) tendency to exalt reproduction and motherhood. Ancient Greeks (a highly patriarchal society) recognized Earth as a mother-figure, fertilized by Father Sky when he pours down his seeds from Heaven. Vivid image, isn’t it? Over time such symbolism became a poetic way of saying that anyone who nourishes, provides and cares for is female. Quite a lot of good it did us to exalt motherhood… Truth is, while giving birth is a biological reality for women, caring and nurturing are not traits that have to be associated with women alone. Yet, women are repeatedly fit into those socially accepted roles of nurture, care and motherhood, making it difficult to even introduce the idea of man as nurturer and primary carer. Therefore when we use the Mother symbol we are implying all these nuances of birth, nurture and care and more importantly, assigning a gender role to ALL of these nuances.Do you see how we are subtly buying into gender norms of men and women by using such symbols? Do you see how it harms both men and women? The biological meaning and realities of motherhood are downplayed (think maternity leave, challenge of re-entering workforce for females, double-shift and lack of paternity leave) while the social symbolism of motherhood is exaggerated! These are strange paradoxes. While exalting the idea of motherhood and ignoring the very real consequences of it, we are relegating women into glorified roles and forgetting to recognize individuals. How can we teach our women to be independent and be their own selves, when we unwittingly hint that their worth is dependent on their motherhood and how much they value it?


My only request is this – before you dismiss these ramblings as me reading too much into a proverb and a slogan, imagine explaining all this to a child. Think of how you shall justify the symbolism in both these cases without the danger of prescribing gender roles to frailty and nurturing, or without exalting motherhood to be the overarching definition of womanhood. Tough, isn’t it?

What Kiss of Love Stands for and What it’s Doing for India

Let’s get this straight. The fact that Indians have to hold a protest on the streets for the freedom to show affection in public is itself ridiculous. On top of that, you oppose the symbolic protest that strives to broaden your mind? Now that’s getting as ridiculous as Shah Rukh Khan’s new movie Happy New Year. We have reached Mars and we still feel the need to assert our moral policing roles in others’ love lives. How typical of us. Before you jump your gun and talk about the holy “Indian culture” that has to be protected, consider what this unique protest actually stands for and what it’s doing for India.


1. Kiss, Not Sex; Love, Not Lust

Kissing is not a precursor to sexual intercourse. I repeat, kissing is NOT sex. In most of South India, especially in Kerala being seen with a guy or holding hands with a guy or God forbid, expressing affection to a guy in any way, labels the girl as a slut. The couple is subjected to harassment, in the form of looks, words and actions. Kiss of Love stands for the freedom to not be harassed by goons, for showing affection in public, i.e. if one hold hands with someone in a park or shopping mall, kiss or hug someone or celebrate Valentine’s Day with one’s loved one. The natural question then becomes, where do we draw the line? That is a matter of personal discretion and simple common sense. Kiss of Love does not stand for a show of nudity in public, full sexual intercourse in public or non-consensual show of affection in public. You want to kiss, you kiss. Two individuals showing their affection is by no means, any of your business. An aversion to PDA (public display of affection) exists even in the liberal Western world, but nobody harasses or beats anyone up for it. Get the difference?

2. Acceptance for homosexuality


Among the protests that have taken place in Kochi, Hyderabad and Delhi it has not just been a man and a woman kissing. The Kiss of Love movement recognizes that love is not just heterosexual. It is high time that gay and lesbian love be accepted in the Indian society as a form of love itself and not an aberration or perversion of heterosexual love. Even while being a protest against moral policing, Kiss of Love is also providing voice for the homosexual community in India, causing a lot of butt hurt among the RSS and Hindutva organizations who stand for “Indian culture” and the normative heterosexual love. If the controversial Section 377 that criminalizes homosexuality has to be changed, society’s perception of homosexuality should change. This is what Kiss of Love is doing in a latent way even as they struggle against moral policing and homophobes.

3. Exposing anti-female sentiments in the Indian society

Most counter-protesters (yes, that includes the state and the police who have oppressed the Kiss of Love protesters) have shamelessly engaged in shaming the women who participated in the Kiss of Love protest. Perhaps the most extreme and vulgar example of this can be seen in the Ban Kiss of Love Facebook page of a group called Kochi Freakerz, who have resorted to the despicable act of shaming a popular model and one of the female advocates of Kiss of Love, in an example of moral policing. What more, they have gone on to express “sympathy” for “such women” who are evidently seen as base and immoral. Have they seen the sculptures in Hindu temples that show our goddesses expressing their sexuality and freedom? What “Indian culture” are they talking about? The truth is, by Indian culture, they mean the cloistered Victorian mindset and the puritanism of the British that was reproduced in many ways, through Section 377 and the mindset that women are responsible for “upholding morals” in the society. There has been no other instance that has brought on such widespread anti-female sentiments recently, with some individuals even justifying rape in the context where women are allowed to express love in public! Again, Indian culture? Please understand that rape (non consensual intercourse)  is the perversion, not a consensual public show of affection.

4. A show of love, not violence


Rapes happen in broad daylight. Murders and assaults happen in public. What is so wrong about kissing in public that irks the Indian society so much? How does a bunch of youthful protesters gathering to kiss and show affection tick off the violent goons of RSS and the police? In a world where wars and terrorism reign, where violence and gore is only causing numbness and less and less indignation, in a world which desperately lacks empathy, why does love and not violence offend you?

5. Conversation-starter within families

Families, being the basic units of society and where most of socialization starts, the Kiss of Love protest capturing national attention contributes to more conversations within families about moral policing, freedom of expression and perhaps even homosexuality. In a context where such a protest is a mainstream discussion topic, there is no better time than now to have a conversation with your family members about what their take is and why they think so.

When I began having conversations about the protest and started showing my support for the movement, more than two male friends expressed their interest of whether I would have gone for the protest if I were in India. Their tone clearly showed the mockery for the nature of the protest. Some others expressed their concern that we should be focusing on other pressing problems such as lack of sanitation, rape cases and corruption. To them I want to ask, is there a priority list somewhere that the society should follow in order to solve issues? Why not appreciate the effort to redefine personal freedom in a repressive society? I don’t know how long this movement will last or what the results will be. But judging from the rapid spread of the protest from Kochi to other parts of India in a matter of days, the youth’s sentiments against moral policing certainly seems like a force to reckon with. In this context, to those protective brothers,sisters, uncles and aunties, who are concerned for their neighbor and “Indian culture” than for the protection of individual freedom, Mwaaaahh! Get well soon 🙂

Top 3 – My List of Bizarre things about America

In two days, I’ll be back in Buffalo, New York for my very last semester at UB. Before I bid goodbye to America in December, life abroad until now warranties a reality check.

Although there have been many things that have astonished, shocked, bewildered – well you get the idea – my delicate (ahem) late-teenage self, nothing has brought recurring waves of culture shock to my veins more than the following facts. They are bizarre because of the absence of the familiar, because a Malayali girl, brought up in Kerala craves for porotta more than a Subway special; wants to burst crackers for Vishu rather than see fireworks from a distance during Fall Fest.

This is for you Athira, you silly Malayali girl.


1. Ask an American what a jackfruit is. (November 2012)

It's not about the tool, but the skill...
It’s not about the tool, but the skill…

In my sophomore year, I was cleaning and carving a pumpkin for Halloween with friends, under the supervision of my lovely roommate Audrey. I happened to mention how people usually work hard to clean and sort out jackfruits in Kerala. Audrey had no idea what I was talking about! It had taken me more than a year and a blank look from her to realize that I’m in a really bizarre place, to which jackfruits are not native…

Look at those thorny beauties.
Look at those thorny beauties.

The beloved chakka growing in our backyards and smelling like sweet fruity rotten flowery rubber, has no existence in America.

2. Zebra Crossing? Nope, crosswalks.(January 2014)

During my Study Abroad program in London, I noticed my American friends from UB were baffled when I walked through a Zebra Crossing and the vehicles just stopped. One of them exclaimed “It’s like magic!”

The Beatles probably preferred Zebra Crossings too.
The Beatles probably preferred Zebra Crossings too.


They got used to it later, but the look on their faces was priceless. India being an astute follower of the English system, (you’d be surprised how much of the British we still retain) Zebra Crossings appear even in primary school textbooks here!

I still cannot BELIEVE that I didn’t notice the absence of Zebra Crossings in America! The crosswalks simply exist for crossing while the traffic signal allows pedestrians to walk. What is the point of that, really? More info on Zebra Crossings here and Crosswalks here.

3. Strikes are almost non existent. Even illegal. (April 2014)

Yes, you can read that again. In my class called Global Realism with Prof. Holstun and some wonderful classmates, someone mentioned how most employees in various states – railway, airline, teachers – are banned from organizing or participating in strikes. I had to blurt out aloud and check if I had heard it right. My surprise seemed to have embarrassed them.

Supermarket Strike in Washington State.
Supermarket Strike in Washington State.

Banning strikes is a surprising concept to me. Socialist thought runs in the veins of many Keralites and we hold our right to enjoy hartals very close indeed! I missed the hartals. Here’s a hilarious article on Kerala’s fascination with strikes.


Not that I’m a big fan of unnecessary strikes, but I don’t believe a ban is good either. For more details on strike bans in the US, click here. My naivety denied me from foreseeing this fact, but I should have known the capitalist capital of the world would have some form of control over labor strikes. Oh well.

This is just part one of my pre-college-closure reality check. The next Top Three list will be up soon! Please wish me a jet-lag free week ahead.

Monsoon @ IPM – Discovering Palliative Care

This summer I met exceptional people, spoke at colleges for the “Because I Care” campaign and met Jaanu, who didn’t know to read the name of the tablets she was supposed to take. 

The rain kept pouring on my first day at the Institute of Palliative Medicine in Calicut. The building with its airy architecture seemed to encourage flying. Many a times I wondered at the branch that invaded through the window of the Medical Library, where we sat discussing everything from fundraising to the possibility of psychological issues in Suarez. The branch swayed and thrust itself inside, as if it had a part to play in the proceedings. Maybe it did.

And through all of that, it rained. Endless, with whispered secrets, trailing a wetness of memories over the leaves, intransient, unlike the lives on the edge of oblivion – lives of the patients lying on their beds downstairs in the Inpatient Unit. The contrast was heavy. We joked; they took morphine. We worked to get money to raise their “quality of death”; they gave us invaluable smiles. All in the same building.

Institute of Palliative Medicine, Calicut.
Institute of Palliative Medicine, Calicut.
During one of our chats in the Medical Library at IPM
During one of our sessions in the Medical Library at IPM 🙂

Maybe the most significant was my first day of Home Care. Two old Muslim men- one was a cancer patient- were suffering from bed sore and pain. I remember feeling deep respect for the nurturing family members who smiled through it all. Their otherwise listless eyes shined with a faint gratitude for us, mixed with a steely resignation. On the same day, I met a teacher who would rather chat on phone than clean up after her old mother who had fallen down in the bathroom, wetting herself. In another family, the daughter in law made sure the Emergency Light was bright enough for the nurse to change her mother-in-law’s catheter tube. Her 12 year old daughter was suffering from eye problems. The star of that day however was Jaanu. She had diabetes and had only two toes on her right feet. Her mistake in having had the wrong tablet was discovered. We realized that she couldn’t read, even though she never admitted it. Jaanu complained about the lack of water in her house and I noted that her house was right next to the emerging Cyber Park. It stood like a dragon rising sleepily from its lair and Jaanu’s house seemed like a hermit’s hut about to be burned. The promise of “development” from the recent elections came to mind…

I was happy when a whole class (BCom Final year in MAMO College) signed up for “Because I Care” after we spoke to them. I was happy when our online campaign including my article on Baby Fathima garnered enough attention. I was happy when one of the patients invited me to eat with him during Iftar. I will miss the philosophical talks with Lakshmi, Gautam and Anwarji in our very own “Shed”.:) The promise of social service is satisfaction, an unmatched degree of it. It is as much a discovery of yourself, as it is the discovery of the society. I used to tell myself that I possibly can’t matter enough to make a change in society. Well, here’s some truth for you – if you can’t, nobody can.

This summer, I met Shaki (coolest boss ever), Saif (trainer,traveler and our very own Kajjang President),Lakshmi (Josephite power!) and Suresh sir (kind, assertive; the man behind it all). Special thanks to Gautam aka GSK aka Jon Snow, who not only responded with “Of course you can come!” when I asked him if I could volunteer, but also gave me rides to and fro through that godforsaken Thondayad – Medical College route. There are many other wonderful people and this post would not end if I talk about all of them; you know who you are :).

In our very own "Shed"! :)
In our very own “Shed”! 🙂
The Iftar dinner at IPM organized with the help of Students in Palliative Care :)
The Iftar dinner at IPM organized with the help of Students in Palliative Care 🙂

Before you shift your attention to another random article on the parasitic web called Internet, let me end this with a loaded question.

How would you like to die?

There are only three ways. You could die of old age. You could suffer from a chronic illness. You could have a sudden death. Third option? Thought so. Only 10-15% of people in the world die suddenly. Which means you and I are probably going to need palliative care too, at some point. Get it?