Indians - Blog Posts
While the UK does have resources to study better it's because they took way our chance to build our own. They agree with the French government to give back colonised stolen items yet don't do the same. It sucks. But there is hope. We have to have some. They'll learn. Some already have. Look at Cambridge's India Studies under IGCSE.
LITERALLY EVERYONE BORN IN ENGLAND IS RACIST
THANK YOU. (And, to anyone reading this, don’t fucking say “well, not everyone.” Fuck off. It’s just like ACAB. Maybe not all, but MORE than enough that it’s a problem, and we shall say everyone if we fucking have to.
God, this is like the main reason I never want to study in London/the UK. I’m sick of them. I’m sick of my mom telling me Indophobic shit about how they took away all our rights, all our gold, all our treasures, all our values, all our culture. I’m sick of that bullshit. I’m sick of your preppy white boys with elbow pads. I’m sick of everyone romanticizing their accent and then throwing a stereotypically heavy Indian accents into TV shows for laughs (Big Bang Theory, I love Sheldon Cooper, but I’m looking at you).
I’m sick of movies pretending Indian immigrants don’t know how to use fucking elevator buttons (Million Dollar Arm and so many others). I’m sick of my mom being numb when she tells me how India was blessed with incredible natural resources, only for the British to come and steal it all away from us. I’m sick of listening to people talk about/quoting Ghandi with no fucking idea what they’re saying, and pronouncing it like “Gandy.” Wtf is Gandy. Get away from me. I’m sick of white people seeing pictures of modern India’s city, including Mumbai (where my parents emigrated from) and looking at us/it like we’re kicked puppies, like “oh, they’re so poor, and it’s so dirty, and wow, we should donate and give you hugs, you poor thing.” Like NO. Fuck you. You did this to us! You created the fucking caste system! You’ve thrown us into poverty with no remorse.
Even to this day, Indian culture is blended with British culture. And sometimes it’s all in good fun, like how my parents eat those digestive cookies (sounds gross, but are actually really good), except we call them Marie Biscuit, but sometimes it’s not. It’s really fucking not. It’s heartbreaking and exhausting and upsetting. I’m sick of people mispronouncing our names, disrespecting us, making fun of curry or bonus, calling us curry, making jokes about arranged marriages, doing the fucking Indian accent like a racist, asking us how to speak “Indian” or asking if we’re “Hindi.” I’m sick of people calling it chai tea. CHAI MEANS TEA. I’m sick of people making studying Asian jokes. I’m sick of people making fun of meditation and chakras and third eyes like idiots. You can’t have your seven chakras aligned, you dolt. You’re not an all-knowing being.
You’re an ignorant prick and asshole who appropriates our culture and thinks it’s funny. You only like our music and our clothes and our culture when it benefits you. You only “care” when it helps YOU.
And if you think I’m being “harsh,” you’ll find sympathy somewhere after shit in the dictionary. I don’t want you here.
@sunapollo This is for you, dear. Don’t you dare let your anons tear you down. I stand with you. ❤
Draupadi as a Feminist
Draupadi is not just a character in an epic. She is the embodiment of resistance in a world built to silence women. She speaks where others remain silent. She questions when others bow down.
Her marriage to five men was not an act of submission. It was a reflection of her will. In choosing her path, she challenged the belief that a woman's role is only to obey.
In the court where her dignity was gambled away, she did not beg for mercy. She demanded justice. She did not cry. She confronted. She did not collapse. She stood.
Draupadi challenged the very foundation of patriarchy. She asked what no one dared to ask. She forced power to look at itself. Her voice was not an echo. It was an eruption.
She did not wait to be saved. She saved herself with courage sharper than any weapon. Her strength was not divine. It was human. It was hers.
Draupadi is feminism before it was named. She is the fire that refuses to go out. She is every woman who questions, who resists, who rises.