Skip to main content

Karukku

When I posted my short review on Instagram, I started off by saying this -
There are books that make you want to read differently; there are books that make you want to write differently; and then there are books that make you want to live differently.

For me, Karukku by Bama definitely falls under the third category. I can safely say that it is the first book that made me pause and look back at my life through a different lens.

All my life, I've been privileged enough to not have to pay any attention to casteism or bother about caste based discrimination. It didn't affect me at all. Actually, I take that back. It affected me. Once. When my ignorant ass ranted against the reservation system because I didn't get admitted to the medical college of my choice but a "less deserving" classmate of mine did because of reservation. She was a person from the Scheduled Caste community. It has taken me 18 years to realize how spoilt and ignorant I was then. How blind. How insensitive. That incident is too glaringly obvious to miss. But Karukku opened my eyes to the many more instances when I was present but just chose not to observe, assimilate or react. It revealed my blind pride in my achievements, prompted by opportunities that I thought I deserved, but which were instead handed to me on a silver platter.

This was my first attempt at reading Dalit literature. Bama's writing is fiery and unapologetic. She doesn't mince words. Doesn't believe in sugar coating situations. Her language is raw, real and representative of her community.  She talks about the village she grew up in, the natural beauty, the simplicity of life, the hard manual labor, the faith, the celebrations. And through it all, she shows how discrimination seeps in to every single aspect of their life. How they are ostracized, shunned, humiliated, snubbed, belittled day in and day out.

Karukku is not a easy read. It wasn't for me. But I feel that it's an essential read. A book that needs to be read. A story that needs to be told. A truth that needs to be accepted. A situation that needs to be resolved.

Popular posts from this blog

One Part Woman/ Madhorubagan

Reading a novel in Tamil is a completely different reading experience. For one, I am forced to read much much slower than I do in English. I read most sections twice, once to get the words right and the second time for the flow of the story. And I take breaks between chapters. Because I am tired by the time I finish the 5 or 6 pages that comprises a chapter. But this has just meant that I invest more deeply in the story. I think more about it. I mull over the characters, their interactions, their actions more. I observe language, structure, and the beauty of descriptions. It's such a contrast to my typical reading. When reading a book in English, I breeze through it. I consume as much as I can in one sitting. Usually, multiple chapters. Occasionally, an entire book. And then I spend some time chewing on it. A quick post about it. Next book. Now I want to slow my English reading as well. Read less, mull more. I kinda like that. My head is bursting with things I want to dissect and

Everyday Anti-Capitalism

 Anti-capitalism, for me, is not just a moral stance. Neither is it just a political flex or a purely academic pursuit. It is the recognition that my life and my value system is tied irrevocably to this economic system that's just plain toxic.  And while I don't have the ability or inclination to renounce wealth and lead a total treehugger lifestyle boycotting all kinds of capitalistic influences in my life, I can at least examine my preferences and correct my prejudices through this lens.  Here are 10 things I have slowly been learning from all the theory I've been injesting: 1. Not to place the sole responsibility for poverty on the poor. It isn't just laziness, bad habits or lack of financial knowledge that's keeping them poor. Poverty and inequality are inherent to capitalism.  2. And similarly, not to attribute billionaire capitalists success to their individual achievements but acknowledge that it is because of market monopolization, killing competition, explo

Oh, The Tangled Webs We Weave.

I want to write about Natsume Soseki. I want to write about Kokoro. But how can I possibly write anything about the book without giving away spoilers? How can I say what I loved about it without robbing you of the experience that I had while reading it without knowing a thing? I don't know when Kokoro stopped being a fictional narrative and started becoming an intensely personal one; when the characters in the book started jumping out to steal faces of acquaintances from my past. Soseki bravely ventures into the murky areas of different relationships, the emotions we sometimes feel but prefer to not address - the secrets we hide from spouses, the feelings of resentment towards best friends, disappointment in the actions or words of those we look up to, hidden feelings of love, distrust in those that mean no harm.. the list is long. But it's a list that makes me uneasy. Only because I've felt them all. I don't want to talk about envying/resenting one of my closest