
A letter of Complaint, A Letter of Resistance
I write a letter, not to a person, place, thing. But a letter to a time. To a time with co-workers who were friends and allies. To several colleagues and
I write a letter, not to a person, place, thing. But a letter to a time. To a time with co-workers who were friends and allies. To several colleagues and
I do not remember the first time I said ‘teslam eedek’ to my mother. It is quite a strange phrase when taken out of its Egyptian context but it can
My mother and her sisters were born at a table where harm was never too far. It has been an eight seater for as long as I have been here.
Some people graduate once in a generation. My oldest memories are of seeing a room full of onions—or in this case, two-thirds of the house filled with onions harvested from
Jyoti used to live in Gagodhar, a small village in the Ujjain district of Madhya Pradesh. In her village, as soon as girls hit puberty, the elders start searching for
The picture of a standing mother in a kitchen is ubiquitous. From dawn till beyond dusk. I have always observed my mother, managing the household chores. I have heard stories
I After a night’s sleep intermittently interrupted by sharp, penetrative period cramps, announcing the arrival of a difficult cycle, my alarm rings at 7 am. It reminds me of what
Hey, It has taken me months to pen this down—a letter I suppose I’m writing to you, to me, to her. I remember reading Chughtai’s Dust of the Caravan over
The machinery of our global capitalist economy is designed to exploit caregiving and domestic labor, while erasing the humanity of those who perform it. In the Gulf Cooperation Council (GCC)
Seeing my mother hate the kitchen and my aunt love it, I was very confused. Growing up, I couldn’t decide if liking it would betray my mother, or hating it
Gantala Press, a Filipino women’s press that I founded while employed in a private library, celebrates its tenth anniversary in 2025. I reflect here on how we, in our smallness,
For an audio-visual project on outward migration from Bihar, I was speaking to professor Brahma Prakash, a writer and Professor at JNU, over a Zoom meeting. He said, “…Britishers took
For the longest of times, women are portrayed… No. Not even portrayed. Simply, “Women belong to the kitchen,” they say—a phrase that can be traced back to Eve, who was
The marketplace is not merely a place of trade; it is a realm of labor, endurance, and negotiation: a living organism held together by the hands of women. These hands,
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