Being an accidental ambassador is probably hard no matter where you’re from, but I believe India makes it particularly difficult.
‘Satanic Verses’ was banned 20 years ago. In all the navel-gazing contemporary Indian fiction, where’s the book that has the power to offend?
Meera’s story challenges the hypocrisies of the liberal-minded swish set in exactly the same way as Rakhi Sawant’s does.
Unlike the majority of Muslims for whom travelling has become an intimidating prospect, Shah Rukh Khan at least had the advantage of knowing that others felt his outrage with him, for him.
India’s gift to me is that she doesn’t get in the way of my freedom to be, she allows me the space to show respect voluntarily.
Why does a simple thing like wearing a hospital mask or sunglasses or sleeveless vests make us feel so conspicuous?