Nupur Jindal

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Many Ramayanas: T...
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  (page 65 of 290)
Mar 03, 2026 07:29PM

 
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Meena Kandasamy
“The number one lesson I have learnt as a writer: Don’t let people remove you from your own story. Be ruthless, even if it is your own mother.”
Meena Kandasamy, When I Hit You: Or, A Portrait of the Writer as a Young Wife

Tom Stoppard
“I don’t know of anything greater than the Appassionata. Amazing, superhuman music. It always makes me feel, perhaps naively, it makes me feel proud of the miracles that human beings can perform. But I can’t listen to music often. It affects my nerves, makes me want to say nice stupid things and pat the heads of those people who while living in this vile hell can create such beauty.”
Tom Stoppard, Travesties

Audre Lorde
“It has become fashionable to separate the spiritual (psychic and emotional) from the political, to see them as contradictory or antithetical. ‘What do you mean, a poetic revolutionary, a meditating gunrunner?”
Audre Lorde, Uses of the Erotic: The Erotic as Power

Meena Kandasamy
“If love is a place marked by the absence of questions, I’m no longer there. I have left with questions. I am left with questions.”
Meena Kandasamy, When I Hit You: Or, A Portrait of the Writer as a Young Wife

Meena Kandasamy
“Your husband is doing this for your own good, they both concur.
‘Your own good’ was the mantra of my mother when I was growing up – it justified
being force-fed laxatives once every three months, not celebrating my birthdays at
school, curfews against travelling alone, refusal of permission to go to picnics. ‘Your
own good’ was the reason my English teacher offered when she pulled me by the ear and led me out of the classroom, shouting rowdy girl rowdy girl rowdy girl this is for your own good and struck me with a wooden ruler. ‘Your own good’ was what justified my teenage neighbour putting his fingers inside my eight-year-old vagina to check for forest insects and bed bugs and evil imps. When I hear ‘your own good’ I am reduced to being a child again. I do not argue any more. I go silent.”
Meena Kandasamy, When I Hit You: Or, A Portrait of the Writer as a Young Wife

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