#southasianfeminism

Ashni is a singer, songwriter, living-room-dancer, and a featured artist in Sakhi’s upcoming show, “Gender Justice + The Arts: An Asian American Showcase” at Bowery Poetry Club on 7/31! She is inspired by how individuals learn to build relationships to the self, to others, and to communities. With soulful melodies, powerful lyrics and rhythmic current, heavy with jazz and R&B influence, she gracefully envelops listeners in a reflective, cathartic dimension. She is currently teaching, creating and performing in New York City. Her performance credits include Rockwood Music Hall, Music Hall of Williamsburg, The Greene Space, Rough Trade, and more. Her music has been featured on Spotify’s Women of Jazz playlist, Bitch Media’s Podcast: Growing Up Immigrant, and the acclaimed web series Brown Girls. More at www.ashnimusic.com

Ashni just released a new song, “Weave” – take a listen on Spotify, Website, BandCamp, and iTunes! 

A bit about the song: “Weave” is a downtempo song with both acoustic and electronic elements. Ashni writes about the interactions between people and the systems they are brought up in. The first tune she completed after last year’s election, she sings about frustration, processing hate, attempts to understand and connect, hope, and healing.

Can you describe your art / poetry / writing / music and your artistic process? 

Music is an outlet for me, and a space to play, heal, and grow. My process can vary for every project, but I often start at the piano, continue writing lyrics away from the piano, and then start fitting everything together. Sometimes the harmony, melody, and lyrics come all at once and I continue to adjust it. 

What does gender justice mean to you and how does your work explore themes related to gender and social justice? 

Gender justice means the equal value and opportunity for all people, regardless of gender ascription or perception.I think about the role of gender justice in my art in many ways. I am conscious of that way I choose to dress, sometimes more femme, and sometimes less. I am conscious of the amount of hair on my legs. I lead my band, conscious of the perceptions of a female singer songwriter, striving to create and perform strong work - musically and lyrically - that will connect with people, and combat and surpass stereotypes, and to inspire higher level thought and discussion amongst audience members.

Who is an Asian American artist / writer / performer that inspires you and why? 

Fatimah Asghar is a super talented writer and creator, who works together with other artists to better everybody’s work and visibility. Shana Bhattacharya is also my favorite painter of wardrobes and birthday cards. 

What can Sakhi supporters look forward to seeing from you at Bowery on 7/31? 

I’ll be playing some songs off of my last live session release, some newer ones - including one I just released on July 22, called “Weave”.

What’s your favorite thing about summer in New York?
All of the music festivals!!! My favorites are Rumsey Playfield in Central Park and Prospect Park, you can hear quite well on both for an outdoor stage, and they bring incredible artists.

Shubha is an Indo-Canadian-New Yorker, and can be found complaining when it’s hot and when it’s cold. She’s also a featured artist in Sakhi’s upcoming show, “Gender Justice + The Arts: An Asian American Showcase” at Bowery Poetry Club on 7/31! She’s an engineer, works in criminal justice reform, and is a creator of stories and arts & crafts. She founded Kalyani Magazine, has published prose, poetry and visual art in various magazines including Off the Coast and A Common Thread, has performed original work in the Vagina Monologues, Yoni Ki Raat 2016, Six Word Memoirs, and more, and is a Voices Of Our Nation (VONA) graphic novel alum. She co-directed Yoni Ki Raat 2017. Learn more at http://www.sbartist.org/. 

Can you describe your art / poetry / writing / music and your artistic process?

I don’t have one main style of art – I dabble in poetry, crafts (lately paper engineering), illustrations and comics – but my recent performances have been autobiographical story-telling. In terms of story-telling, my artistic process could be defined as an unorganized temper tantrum.  I tend to start my creation from an inspired spark - usually an epiphany about different threads in my life that make me especially angry, or a feeling that I have never been able to put into words.  I work on a story to give voice to the experience, or, rather, I unsuccessfully try to squish about 10 different stories together. After countless edits, additions, and feedback from my trusted friends, the next phase is where I get frustrated, hate everyone, and decide I’m a horrible writer. When I’m lucky enough to have a deadline looming, I reluctantly continue to edit, and then hopefully, kill my darlings (or set them aside for next time), and end up with an arc to follow. This year, I have been working on moving past the words and embracing the emotional arc, trusting my body to do what it needs to on stage. Music has been an essential part of helping this happen.

What does gender justice mean to you and how does your work explore themes related to gender and social justice?

This question is daunting because gender justice means so many things, and yet in its essence, I suppose, it means that women, and gender non-conforming people, get to live, and live fully.

The piece I’ll be performing at the Sakhi event is about how our bodies are claimed and controlled when it comes to reproduction. This reality, which I was always somewhat aware of, really slapped me in the face when my body was finally “deemed ready for reproduction” (ie, married to a cis-man). For example, information on monthly changes in cervical fluid, body temperature, etc, and how that correlates to the cycle the inside of our body follows is information that is really passed onto us in great detail when we’re given books and apps on how to get pregnant. Had I known this information when I was a teenager, I would have actually like I owned my own body (a feeling I revel in now even though I’m no longer trying to get pregnant).  It is incredibly empowering knowledge – so it’s not a surprise that it’s kept from us. So although my story is very narrowly focused on a few specific anecdotes, it’s actually about the way I, as a human being, have been controlled. In fact, the spark of anger that started this story wasn’t about pregnancy at all, it was getting married and how that tiny legal act seemed to come with a complete redefinition of me, against my will, as a wife. In either case – getting married or reproductive control - what I’m not allowed to do is live my life, fully.

Who is an Asian American artist / writer / performer that inspires you and why?

Alok Vaid-Menon.  I haven’t had the pleasure of seeing the Dark Matter duo, but I finally saw Alok at last year’s Sakhi Gender Justice and the Arts event and I was blown away.  They are an incredible artist, performer, and poet, and that alone is inspiring.  I scribbled down quotes from the evening, and one that has given me strength this past year was “I don’t believe you have to have hope to keep trying”.  I follow them on Instagram now and even their Instagram feed inspires me! @alokvmenon

What can Sakhi supporters look forward to seeing from you at Bowery on 7/31?

I am a non-singer. Just a couple of years ago I didn’t even sing to myself in the shower, I only sang in muttered breathe under really loud music because I had way too much shame. I pushed myself on a whim.  I felt like a hypocrite as a champion and supporter of all people having a voice, muzzling my own voice. Somehow (through a long, terrifying journey), I’ve now sung in front of a total of 390 people! So you can look forward to a terrified, bad singer, pushing herself on stage, and my gratitude to you being part of my journey.

What’s your favorite thing about summer in New York?

Fireflies in abandoned lots.

Riti Sachdeva is a theatre maker, dancer, cultural worker, and a featured artist in Sakhi’s upcoming show, “Gender Justice + The Arts: An Asian American Showcase” at Bowery Poetry Club on 7/31! She has been creating art in some shape, form, or rhythm for twenty five years, incorporating text, installation, and dance into her work. Born in India, she is deeply influenced by the vast land, history, mythology and people of her origins. Raised in the U.S., her work is marked by the social and political climate of the Americas.

Can you describe your art / poetry / writing / music and your artistic process?

This particular piece, an excerpt from a full length “solo” show I’m developing, is a mash up of cabaret, memoir, and mysticism.

Each process is different. In the process for this excerpt, I’ve written a rough draft after weeks of dreaming on it. Now I’ll be in the rehearsal room with director Rebecca Martinez and musician Sweet Lee Odom to manifest it from page to stage.

In the rehearsal process, the script will most likely go through changes: throwing out what’s too much explanation, bringing in what needs more information, seeing where movement and embodiment can replace text, exploring how the clarinet will underscore, accent, mimic, negate attitudes and actions in the text… lots of work to do these next few weeks.

What does gender justice mean to you and how does your work explore themes related to gender and social justice?

Gender justice spans and delves into almost every aspect of my life. It means parity and opportunity, and also, aesthetic, content, process, voice.

I specifically sought out a female musician and director for this piece. For their visibility, for their particular talents, perspectives, skills, communication styles… and the possibility of collaborating in a an honest and generous way.

I’m looking at gender and social justice in the personal, political, and spiritual which are all ultimately intertwined.

Who is an Asian American artist / writer / performer that inspires you and why?

So many!

The singer Susheela Raman - so sensual, deep, diasporic, and funny! Listening a lot to Karvika, lately, too - powerful blend of east and west. Pianist Kieko Matsui - love writing with her music  playing - both melancholy and faithful. Playwrights Mashuq Deen and Susan Soon He Stanton for their persistence and daring. Recently was introduced to performance artist Maya Krishna Rao - totally wild and smart.

What can Sakhi supporters look forward to seeing from you at Bowery on 7/31?

They can look forward to experiencing a spell of sorts. Sweet Lee is a dedicated, disciplined, soulful horn player and Rebecca Martinez is a thoughtful, no nonsense, adventurous director. The three of us are brewing some majik.

What’s your favorite thing about summer in New York?

Free concerts in the parks!!!!!

By Tahina Mukit

As we get older, we learn to prioritize. We buy planners, we make lists, and we set about ten alarms each day just to make sure we’re on top of schedule. I know that I’m guilty of stretching myself too thin each year, mainly because I love to help and I can’t say no! I didn’t realize that I need to invest in taking care of myself until I started my first year at college. I was drinking red bulls, venti drinks from Starbucks, and depriving myself of sleep so that I could work on my assignments. My parents started to notice that the bags under my eyes were getting larger and that I just did not look like myself anymore. For myself, I noticed that drinking all of these energy drinks and feeding my body junk food really did not give me any energy at all. Instead I felt groggy, bloated, and just tired. So, I ditched the energy drinks and coffee for tea, made sure to get some sleep, and most importantly, told myself that I don’t have to be a superhero to get all my work done! I made sure to surround myself with good food and good energy, especially from reliable friends. Making these changes in my daily routine truly made a difference on my body and mind. It allowed me to become more positive, and especially, more forgiving towards myself!

So, here are some methods that I use each day to make sure that I’m giving myself some well deserved TCL. Read them here down below!  

1. Sleep

This seems very simple, however, a lot of us forget that human minds run on sleep! When I first started college, I would work my body to the bone until 5AM and then sleep for about 3-4 hours before waking myself up again for the same torture. And this wasn’t even during finals. I found myself even boasting about not sleeping that much to my own peers, as if the lack of sleep showed how hardworking or intelligent I was. Recently, I’ve noticed that people feel the need to overfill their own plate just to feel like they’re ahead of the game or even in the game. But, to get to the point, even though my mind didn’t understand that I needed sleep, my body did. So, I decided to make sure that I get 8 hours asleep. But, life is hectic, so, if I do need to stay up later, as soon as I am tired, I go immediately to bed. How can one absorb information if you’re barely awake? Plus, as soon as I noticed that I don’t have any hard deadlines, I definitely make sure to sleep before midnight. Why stay up later? Treat yourself to some sleep girl!

2. Positivity

I’ve struggled a lot with being positive to myself and my life. For some time, I just had a negative outlook on life and gave up on myself and my abilities. However, I realized that how could I ever succeed if I didn’t even believe in myself? So, each day, especially when I’m faced with a difficult task, I close my eyes, breath, and tell myself that things will work out. Also, I rationalize with myself. Other ways to keep positive are to make sure you engage with others how are just as positive and think positive! You can read some more tricks here.  the end of the day, if something does not go your way, it does not mean that you won’t find another way. The worse thing that could happen is that you have to try again. And there is absolutely nothing wrong with that.

3. Make room for fun!

It’s easy to get lost in the sea of work and not make any time for other activities. If you see that you have some free time in the day, don’t spend it on work. That can wait. Try having lunch with friends. If the weather’s nice, try spending it outside at the park. Maybe you could start a new hobby as well. Or, just spend the time being by yourself. Either way, all of these things should not incorporate work. Taking breaks does not mean you’re lazy. It just shows that you know how to have fun amidst all the chaos of deadlines.

4. Ditch the Electronics 

On some days, I just shut off my phone. I close my laptop. I turn off the TV. Then, I snuggle in bed with a good book. Sometimes, I find myself stressed out my own electronics. In this day and age, every smart device comes equipped with calendars, so it’s easy to not forget about work when on those devices. Additionally, the screens on our devices can keep us up at night unfortunately (read more about it here). So, when possible, I decide to shut the online world out of my head and instead drown myself in some books! My favorite genres to read are murders, mysteries, and, murder mysteries. It’s fun to escape to another world for a while. Also, your eyes won’t feel strained! But, if you do find yourself needing to do work, there are some apps that you can utilize that will help you with your sleep schedule and prevent you from staying up late at night. I personally love using f.lux. Check out the app here!

5. Exercise

Yup. You read that right! Now, I am no gym buff myself, however, I do think it’s important to get your body moving somehow during some part of your day. I usually spend most of the day sitting. So, once I’m done with all my work, I walk all the way back home. Usually the walk is around 20-30 minutes. It may not be the treadmill, but I am moving my body. Now that the weather is getting better, I find it easier to be outside too! So, if you’re not keen on going to the gym, try to find time in your day to go for a light walk. Maybe try some at home works out as well in the morning before work or school! There are some great quick work outs on YouTube, free of charge! Some people that I personally follow are blogilates (check out her fitness channel here! ) and MyLifeAsEva (check out her video here!). And, if you do decide to go to the gym, try going with some friends! It will make the transition easier and you’ll find yourself itching to put on some work out clothes.

I hope these tips serve you well this Mental health Awareness Month and all the other months to come. If you find yourself needing more assistance, some of my favorite tips on self care from hereandhere!

Remember, it’s much harder to get things done when you’re not taking care of yourself. 

Tahina Mukit is an undergraduate student at NYU studying Psychology with a minor in Studio Art. She joined Sakhi as a volunteer because she wanted to gain more insight into her own culture and be able to support South Asian Women. She loves supporting the Sakhi cause and hopes to be even more involved in the future. 

By Alpa Rajai 

I often play the “name your feeling” game with my 3 year old daughter. However, I could not particularly describe the emotions I felt as I read about the Neha Rastogi and Abhishek Gattani case: a stellar ex-employee of Apple was verbally abused, punished like a child, and beaten by her Silicon Valley ex-CEO husband in an upper middle-class setting in sunny California. She was a well-educated, financially independent, gainfully employed mother of a 3 year old and she was in an abusive marriage for 10 years.

I know my heart was racing, my palms were sweaty, and the blood was rushing up to my face as I listened to only some of recordings she presented to the courts. Did I have tears rolling down my eyes? What was this emotion I was feeling?

I was angry - mad at the abusive husband, his scheming attorney, and the (seemingly) indifferent judge. What made this man think he was allowed to treat his wife in such a way - beating her, punishing her, making her feel so little? How can the legal system of a nation like America allow him to bargain a plea deal and get away with this? How could the judge go away on vacation before deciding on this important case?

I felt cheated – like most others, I had this picture of DV victims: low-income or uneducated or financially dependent on the abuser. This assumption was always validated by various articles and cases I had previously seen. However, Neha was everything but that typical image. She could’ve been my friend, my colleague, my classmate, my daughter… It was an important reminder that domestic violence does not see race, social class, color, gender, or religion. It forced me to discuss this “sensitive” topic within my social circles to bring home the point that we cannot brush aside or remain indifferent to the important issue of domestic violence.

I felt despair - It was evident that the victim in this case was not raised to accept abuse because she expresses her shock after the first domestic abuse incident. Nonetheless, she was a victim of domestic abuse for 10 years. How do I ensure my daughter or any person does not end up with this same fate?

I felt thankful – she finally spoke up and walked out. Unfortunately, the first response from many when this case first surface was, “why did she stay?” I remembered that it is better late than never. I also remembered my Sakhi training which provided so many reasons why: fear, victim shame, optimism, age-old and constantly reinforced idea that marriage is meant to be forever, social and family pressures, etc.

I was hopeful – Sakhi and many other feminist groups have been actively working to empower women and to drive away from these age-old ideas. We can work harder to ensure victims have the confidence to speak up. We can teach everyone that there is no shame in being a victim - whether of domestic violence or sexual abuse or rape. We can actively and consciously redirect this shame onto the abusers - they are the ones who acted shamefully. We can progress on our journey of gender equality with the men in our lives as our allies.

Finally and more importantly, I felt inspired to continue working as a Sakhi volunteer. Neha’s case epitomizes the need for this organization which is not just addressing cases post-abuse (a critical function) but also working hard to empower women and fight for gender equality to eliminate the root cause of abuse. It has reinvigorated me and many others to engage in every means possible and urge others to act.

To voice your concerns for Neha’s case specifically:

https://www.change.org/p/honorable-allison-marston-danner-hon-ble-danner-please-reject-the-plea-deal-to-abishek-gattani

To make an impact in the fight against domestic violence / sexual abuse and towards gender equality:

http://www.sakhi.org/about-sakhi/get-involved-2/

Alpa Rajai is a Sakhi volunteer and a seasoned professional with over 13 years of experience in banking and consulting. She was born and raised in Mumbai, India by a feminist-but-in-denial family that introduced her to community service early on in life – which is probably why remains passionate about giving back and attaining gender equality. When she is not working or volunteering, she loves to spend quality time and rediscover this beautiful world with her curious little daughter.

NYC-based artist and writer Smrita Jain’s forthcoming book, “Fat Free Samosa”, is a thoughtful exploration of the author’s move to the United States, navigation of beauty and gender, understanding her sexuality, relationship with her parents, and more. Learn more about & pre-order the book here! 

Tell us about the inspiration and process behind your forthcoming book, “Fat Free Samosa”.

I realized while looking for a partner that most men don’t have these things on their wish list:  education, talent, being both family and career oriented, and being of good and sound character. It simply is not enough for them.

I was made to feel that having everything in life, I am still a beggar with nothing to offer. I have been overweight my whole life – I struggle to keep up the skinny ideal that the world is currently craving. People are judged based on how they look, even before someone gets to know them. There are so many issues of race, caste, and creed in our society that I felt a strong need to tell my story.

Buying a fat free salad dressing is not enough to keep yourself fat free. There is fat and grime (racism, sexism, discrimination based on caste and class, rich/poor comparison, fat shaming, body shaming and many other issues) in our minds and souls that needs to be eradicated.

Your book deals explicitly with issues of sexism and sexuality in Indian culture. Have you been able to discuss these issues with your family, in particular your parents? What has that been like?

​My book is yet to be released. My parents are not aware of many of the details that I have shared in this book and will not know until the book is released.

I find art and writing to be my language, not just a medium. I tell my story with colours, drawings, typography and by creating original visuals. I stood in the middle of Grand Central Station dressed as bride with a beggar’s bowl. I wanted to show how overweight women are treated in their own communities, no matter where they live.

My parents, like many others, grew up in a conservative environment. It is very important for me to find a balanced path, a middle ground.  I hope to speak to them without hurting their traditional beliefs and losing their respect.

They are at a stage where changing their beliefs and values suffocates them. As much as I respect my liberty, I respect their traditional beliefs as well. That’s why I feel that, art, writing, photography—all of these—are nothing more than transitional motifs. They can help communicate ideas, thoughts, prayers, hope, liberty, respect and much more. Change is never an overnight process, but the start of the process is a change in itself.

What do you hope your book can do for other South Asians?

I hope my book can help other South Asians understand that being a single woman (all your life) is not the end of the world.​

It is hard to digest this. It is hard for me to believe in it as well. But every day when I wake up (even though I miss having a sweetie to give me morning kisses) my world does not end there — it begins there.

We are brought up with preconceived ideas of a perfect fairyland. In this ideal place, a daughter performs duties toward her parents. When she grows up, she is sent out to a home where she is supposed to build a family. Her primary duty is to produce babies, keep her husband and in-laws happy, and do what they ask. It is written in our history books. And history repeats.

No matter how much we deny it, the value of success, deep down in our culture, is still measured by the amount of material possessions one has.

Women that I am surrounded with, in my own family, in my own community, are falling back. Their goals are to find the richest guy around and settle down. They are valuing themselves with materialistic things.

When I was 15, I was taught to dream the same way. I was told “this is what girls should do. If you succeed, you will never have to work in an office because your husband will get you what you want.”

Yes, I was made to believe that this is the definition of a successful daughter and her parents. And even today this pratha (custom) is practiced by both men and women.

There are millions of definitions of what success means to different people. But these definitions should never disrespect womanhood. Women are more than mere performance based machines.

I am 33, have never been married, and I am often lectured by men and women.  They tell me that having a husband is the answer to everything and that I should settle down.

You are an artist working in a variety of mediums. How did your artistic work influence your book?

​While I was writing my book, I had no idea how I was going to treat this book and the cover of the book.

I was not sure whether I should do an illustration, a painting, or a simple typographic design. In one of the chapters of the book, I wrote about moments when I was made to feel like a beggar. It struck me that I could express feelings, emotions and everything else, through photography.

More than Times Square or the Statue of Liberty, I feel Grand Central Terminal has the real vibe, thrust and poise of New York.

The terminal has it all: from rich to poor, tourists to busy professionals, outrageously priced food to people’s ignorance towards someone else. It is my story, my family, my experiences, my mistakes and the lessons that I learned. Even though I could have hired a model, I decided to make this experience mine.​

I faced all the embarrassment on my own, standing at the terminal like a freak.

Much of your work in the book is about reclaiming your body and rejecting dominant ideas of South Asian femininity. How did you begin that transformation for yourself, and find the space to be you, even if that’s different than what you felt was dictated by culture?

My first bit of transformation began the day I boarded my flight to New York. I came to the city to get my master’s degree at Pratt Institute. I quickly became homesick and continued to feel that way for months, then years.

In 2009, I started a relationship that resulted in 5 years of pure torture. Those were the years that I experienced the process of transformation myself.

In that time, I came to terms with the virtue of acceptance. I accepted that some people are meant to live their life alone. The biggest gift that you can give yourself is self-love and embracing your true self.  I now spend time in introspection and observation, assessing myself and the things around me.  I have learned to accept what I’m good at and what I can get better at.

By Vrinda Trivedi 

Dear body,

I love, love, love you. I love you like I love my family- unconditionally, despite the many times I feel frustrated and angry. Ever since I was very little, I’ve had a sense of clarity about what I prioritized in my life. And my family always topped that list. It wasn’t until very recently that you, Body, climbed your way up to that list, just under “Mummy, Papa, and Vyoma.” For years, I neglected you. Skipping meals in favor of liquified sludge, depriving you of actual sustenance and love. But we’ve come far, haven’t we? Nearly 20 years, we’ve spent together, you and I. Sometimes at odds, and sometimes as harmoniously as chips and guac. And although this admiration has always been unspoken, today, I want to take the time to declare my appreciation for you. So, in no particular order, here is an abridged list of why I love you:

Nose, you’ve been the trouble child. A bit oversized and pointy, I’ve never been your biggest fan. But despite my distaste, you let me adorn you with a golden hoop so I could feel connected to my motherland and the centuries of Indian women who also share my delight in catching a glimpse of gold in every reflective surface. For hosting that sense of community, I thank you.

Eyes, the windows to my soul. Dark and angsty as ever, you humor me to no end. Even when I pretend like everything’s okay and I’m not actually pissed off, you perpetually give away my true emotions. You teach me that my feelings are valid, and you allow me to display my fury, sadness, and joy, without restraint.

Feet. I used to be pretty apathetic about you, feet, never fully understanding how completely dependent I am on you. The constant walking (often in horrendously painful shoes, beauty is pain, yada yada) in New York has made me hyper aware of how resilient my feet are when it comes to healing quickly so I can continue on with life. The speed at which my poor feet have healed themselves repeatedly can only be described as truly astonishing, even magical

Arm hair, I love you now, but we both know that I used to hide you under swaths of cloth because I was ashamed of you and your abundance of feathery, black fuzz. When I was 17, all the aunties used to whisper and occasionally confront me about why I hadn’t gotten rid of you to reveal my bony, bronzed arms. Their words were so hypnotic and I was amazed at how all the older girls looked almost seductive, baring their  glistening, bare arms in the summer, so I did what they said. I took a Venus Embrace to you, and days later realized that the “Embrace” wasn’t comforting at all. Arm hair stubble is the literal worst. And so to keep the pointy black pigment from sprouting up, I became obsessed with shaving my arms, and I hated it. Finally, winter, with its safe, covered sleeves, came around and I dealt with the constant itchy skin and let you grow back into silky strands of darkness. My hair is what embraces me now, keeping my arms happy and protected. When the aunties stare in confusion at my dark arms, I smile and wave, letting my arm hair flutter through the breeze.

My back makes me insecure. I have never been completely content with the way that you look and the way that you feel. Covered in dark brown freckles, sun spots and an assortment of little black moles, I cringe when you’re exposed to the world behind me. Radical self love tells me that I need to accept you as a part of me, before I can become fully happy with myself. It’s frustrating, but I’ve been taking steps to come to terms with the fact that you’re not perfect, and that’s okay because I’m not perfect either. When I was considering getting a tattoo, I was very apprehensive about the idea of a back or shoulder tattoo. I didn’t want to have to see you more than I already had to. But then I realized that I needed to force myself to look at you, to appreciate you, so I ended up getting a Sanskrit mantra, “या देवी सर्वभुतेषु शक्तिरूपेण संस्थिता ।” (“Yaa Devii Sarva-Bhutessu Shakti-Ruupenna Samsthitaa”, which translates to “To that Devi Who in All Beings is Abiding in the Form of Power”) on my upper back.

To me, the mantra deconstructs power dynamics in a way that restores and affirms the idea that the female form is the embodiment of pure power.) It reminds me that my physical form embodies strength. I forget far too often that the human body is self-preserving in a variety of ways, and that I contain all that I need. Our Eurocentric media and society continually tell me that I am not conventionally pretty, with a big nose and hairy brown skin. But over time, I’ve slowly come to understand that beauty is not supposed to be exclusive. My definition of beauty is one where all bodies, able or not, white or not, binary or not, are accepted and loved by the people that inhabit them. My beautiful body, I love you.

Lots of love (even despite the occasional hate),

Me

Vrinda Trivedi is a senior Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies and Political Science double major at the College of Wooster. She interned with Sakhi for South Asian Women this summer. 

Coming from a pretty liberal family, I have always thought I won’t have to worry about my parents constantly pushing me to get married as soon as I graduate. I was not wrong. My parents are the “cool” folks compared to more traditional South Asian parents. Now that I am a rising senior in college at the ripe age of 21, I’ve noticed that my parents have never obviously brought up the topic of marriage and grandchildren yet. But why have I been worrying about ending up alone and as a consequence, unintentionally embarrassing my family as the undesirable child.

After sitting alone on Bryant Park’s lawn for two hours on 4th of July, I just had to call my best friend, Safiya. Half Pakistani-half Burmese, Saf is also a 21 year old Desi who enjoys the drama free single life as much as I do. “Hey Saf, have you ever felt like you gotta settle down even though Auntie never nudges you to?”

This led to a long chat between me and Saf, laughing at ourselves for worrying about getting married before 30. We listed out the advantages of being single at 21, such as being able to have as much me time as we want and having countless girls’ nights when we sob over Bollywood movies (and sometimes dance along). However, the lighthearted laughter faded when Saf mumbled with a sigh, “To be honest girl, I have been stressing about settling down soon, too. Gotta have a husband before 30, gotta make my parents proud. It’s like throwing two stones with a bird, become the good daughter and shut down gossip at the same time.”

Safiya and I are not the only South Asian youth who have been constantly experiencing the internalized dilemma of whether to settle down sooner or later and have children or not, even when our parents are not telling us how to live our lives at all. According to our go-to blog, DesiBlitz, many British Asians are also facing the same situations. Regardless of our parent’s involvement or lack thereof, us, the South Asian 20 somethings face this dilemma almost every day. Most of the time, we try to submerge the worry and laugh it off, but whenever we run into an Auntie at a friend’s wedding and hear the dreadful “Your turn’s next,” supplemented by an occasional friendly wink, we panic. Sirens run wild in our heads as we force ourselves to grin politely. Those kind of days, we spend the rest of the evening pondering if we are really undesirable, or worse, becoming too detached to our South Asian roots.

This morning on my way to Sakhi, I was doing the usual Bella stuff, overthinking about life and if I would end up without a husband (but probably with a lot of cats) during my 50 minutes commute to work. My fingers stopped scrolling when I stumbled upon this article on Buzzfeed India about an interview between Sania Mirza and Rajdeep Sardesai. Rajdeep asked:

“Amidst all the celebrityhood, when is Sania going to settle down? Is it going to be in Dubai? Is it going to be in another country? What about motherhood? Building a family? I don’t see that in the book. It seems like you don’t want to retire yet to settle down.”

Sania’s reply was flawless. I have always thought she was cool, but after reading her reply, I have gained immense respect for her.

“You don’t think I am settled? You sound disappointed that I’m not choosing motherhood over being number one in the world.”

After these perfect lines followed Sania’s explanation of the idea of “settling” entrenched in the South Asian community, and that a woman can feel settled without being married or having children regardless of what society has always taught us to believe.

I didn’t care the high school kid sitting across me on the subway raised his eyebrows when I started giggling heartily at my phone. A sigh of relief followed by a YES came out of my mouth. Still wearing the smile, I texted Saf. “Girl, let’s grab some coffee after work. I think I might have finally found a way to escape our dilemma.”

Bella Aung is a Sakhi intern, hails from Yangon, Myanmar, and is a rising senior majoring in International Relations with a minor in Mathematics at Linfield College, Oregon. In addition to being a globetrotter, she is also an avid advocate for human rights, and proudly considers herself a feminist. When she is not busy preparing for graduate school applications in Women’s Studies Masters Programs, she can be found either petting cats, baking cookies, or dancing to Frank Sinatra.

By Vrinda Trivedi

Growing up, I was totally enamored by the sheer beauty and elegance with which Bollywood actresses carried themselves on screen. One of my earliest memories is listening to the song Rangeela(1995) and seeing a cowboy boot-clad Urmila Matondkar shimmy around in the middle of the street to the peppy beat. Over a decade later, I still love the music and cinematography that Bollywood churns out at an unbelievable rate.

However, over the years, as I’ve allowed the term “feminist” to envelope me and my worldview, Bollywood has started to become a personally contentious issue. And I know i’m not the only person out there either, that rolled my eyes after watching Ranbir Kapoor character Bunny “suddenly” fall in love with Deepika Padukone’s Naina after she became conventionally hotter (got rid of her glasses, wore tighter clothes, etc.)  in Yeh Jawani Hai Dewaani (2013). And honestly, despite that and many other equally regressive scenes (i.e. when Aditya Roy Kapur’s character insults a woman who calls him out for ogling her), I still watched the movie multiple times, my guilt growing each time. So for a while, I indulged myself in this cycle of watching a problematic film, enjoying the music and visuals, feeling guilty and repeat. With each new movie was a tried-and-true formula of portraying the 20-something actress as little more than a damsel in distress. Female character development is typically limited to one or two vapid scenes of the heroine declaring her decision to marry the boy, against her family’s wishes. Or at least, such was the status quo for the last few decades. However, increasingly, lesser-known Bollywood filmmakers have begun creating more progressive films, such as Queen (2014) and Titli(2015).

When Queen was first released in 2014, it was received with across-the-board applause, and quickly became the token feminist film for Bollywood viewers and producers. Critics and the public alike enjoyed the film and its refreshing take on independence and womanhood. The movie chronicles the symbolic and physical journey of a young Punjabi woman, Rani Mehra, as she is left by her fiancee, her life seemingly ruined. She then chooses to go on her honeymoon across Europe by herself, which results in a steady rise in confidence and radical self love, albeit with some significant bumps in the road.

What pleased me most about Queen was Rani’s slow realization that radical self love was not only important, but actually necessary. Beyond physical and economic independence from previous sources of stability and dependence, she was able to come to terms with her own need for support and approval and embrace her freedom. This theme of self-acceptance was overtly demonstrated in a variety of impactful scenes. Rather, the character’s intentionality in stepping out of her comfort zone, and a heartbreakingly relatable and accessible dialogues were able to display her level of growth throughout the film.

In the past, Bollywood films have never made it a point to emphasize the character growth of female characters, much less actually write a script that involves any internal growth at all. Bollywood has made a few rare attempts at pseudo-feminism, which typically is carried out in an incredibly dramatic scene where the heroine slaps a thug who may have insulted her. Or more typically, she will shout out her macho love interest’s name, who comes to the rescue by thrashing the ruffian, thus protecting the heroine’s honor. The damsel in distress archetype is one that has undoubtedly permeated mainstream Bollywood for generations upon generations, with the exception of a small group of older and recent notable outliers such as Khoon Bhari Maang(1988),Mardaani(2014),Kahaani (2012; which draws on interesting concepts of the Goddess, motherhood, and power), and Fire(1996; although Fire is not mainstream Bollywood).

However, having a strong female lead is not enough to categorize a film as feminist, and this is where Queen is able to excel. Rani never relies on her macho friends to beat up harassers, or delivers an isolated monologue on the ills of society. Instead, by the end of the film, she loudly and unapologetically loves who she is, which I feel is one of the most radical and powerful feminist statements that a young, woman of color  woman can make.

Vrinda Trivedi is a junior Women’s, Gender, and Sexuality Studies, and Political Science double major at the College of Wooster. Born in South Africa to an Indian immigrant family, and raised in Cleveland, she enjoys exploring intersections of identity. Her academic interests address these intersections, as she is in the midst of writing a thesis entitled, “Okay Ladies Now Let’s Get in Formation: A Comparative Analysis of the Development of Grassroots Women’s Movements Post-Civil Conflict.”

By Alfe Azad 

A common refrain I have heard throughout my childhood from the many women in my life, my mother, aunts, older female cousins, was for me to ‘stay indoors’ since I was ‘already too dark’.  When my mother was born she was the pride and joy of my grandfather because the doctors told him that they had never seen an infant as pink as my mother. My father chose to marry my mother because, as darker pigmented man himself, he wanted to give his future children a head start by marrying someone fair-skinned.

 Throughout my primary schooling my family was lucky enough to travel to Bangladesh every summer, it was during these trips my mother would stock up on a skin lightening cream called “Fair and Lovely” for both her and myself. Whenever I would find myself at family gatherings or other social outings with fellow South Asian women, it would never be too long before the conversation turned to beauty and women began complimenting the fair skin of one another and offering helpful information to those afflicted with darker skin. In searching for potential brides for my male cousins, fair skin, not the bride’s accomplishments or sense of character, was prioritized. Simply put, fair skin was good and dark hued skin was something you had to constantly make-up for and attempt to change. Retrospectively assessing these instances it becomes clear that the opinions of the people in my family and families across South Asia are informed by a deep-rooted history with colorism.

South Asia (India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, Bhutan, Nepal, Sri Lanka) has developed their issue with colorism over a long period of time, starting with the invasion of the light-skinned Aryans and concluding with the reign of the British Raj. The traumatic rippling affects of these historical occurrences are still felt today through the internalized oppression of the indigenous population that these invasions descended upon. Having to witness social and political power be given to outside forces whose physical bodysuit was so vastly different from the native population it ruled over only naturally leads to self-questioning and desire to emulate those in power.

To this day South Asians hold the belief that fairness is equated with more positive attributes i.e., intelligence, more attractive, wealthier, etc., and this attitude is reflected in the pervasive popular culture of South Asia. Bollywood being such a massive industry and having so much influential pull over the South Asian population, continues to perpetuate the idea of fairness being preferable by continuously celebrating and casting fair skinned actresses. Furthermore, the idea that fairness is the preferred shade is evidenced by the vast amount of skin lightening products that exist for both men and women and are touted and affirmed by their association within the Bollywood culture. South Asian people, and women more so, are inundated with images of fairness and the belief that a lack of melanin is somehow associated with success. South Asians have seen power given to light skinned individuals for centuries, and today that power continues to manifest itself in the higher echelons of South Asian culture, where, more often than not, people in positions of power continue to be fair skinned. It is high time we recognize and value our people beyond the shade of their skin. South Asians as a community are vibrant and brilliant regardless of the hue of our skin. My intelligence, sass, and creativity doesn’t stem from my lack of melanin, rather it has flourished in the responses to it.

As I’ve grown into my own and have been equipped with the specific language and education surrounding the history of oppression of people of color and the evolution of the feminist movement, I have come to understand the importance of my racial and cultural heritage. It has come to the forefront of my consciousness and, along with the lens of feminism, has done much to shape how I perceive my own experiences and the experiences of others around me, by recognizing that my place in the world starts with affirming that I am a woman of color. I make the distinction to say woman of color, and not woman and person of color, because too often I feel these two labels become disjointed and it is imperative to recognize that women of color are recognized otherwise we are inevitably perpetuating the erasure of women of color (hereafter known as WoC) altogether. It is through this lens that I am able to acknowledge the daily microagressions and societal challenges faced by WoC, whether from individual or systemic forces. Colorism has been continuously documented as a common problem amongst nations that have gone through extensive periods of European colonization, including the Indian subcontinent from which I am a proud product of.

[photo source: www.popfn.com]

Alfe Azad is a 28 year old grad of NYU Steinhardt’s Educational Theatre program. At NYU she focused on her interest in Theatre of the Oppressed and the intersection of arts and social justice. Her work culminated in a literature review thesis on the issue of colorism within women in the South Asian community. In addition to her post-graduate degree from NYU, she received her BA in Theatre and English literature at California State University Northridge. Alfe is currently a Teaching Artist in the city with three different organizations, Opening Act, The Leadership Program, and Wingspan Arts. She is originally from New York but has lived, studied, and worked in Los Angeles for the past 13 years. She is also a practicing actor, credits include Dunyazade in Arabian Nights and Peaseblossom in A Midsummer’s Night Dream. Alfe also works in technical theatre, most recently helping design costumes for NYC’s The Secret Theatre’s production of Through the Glade. Find her on Twitter @alfeazad​ 

By Sonia Mittal

As many excited feminists know, there are a growing number of initiatives taking place to raise awareness about sexual assault on college campuses in the United States. One of the most influential has been the “Carry the Weight” initiative started by Emma Sulkowicz at Columbia University. After being raped by a classmate who the school cleared of the crime, she vowed to carry a mattress with her as long as she and the accused student attended the same school in order to represent the weight she has to carry around with her every day since this traumatic experience. This even resulted in her receiving a standing ovation as she carried the mattress across stage on her graduation day in order to show the lack of action taken by the administration at larger universities. This movement is one of many that has gathered force in the recent years in order to spur more conversations about sexual assault especially within younger generations.

Another important instance is the “Enough is Enough” legislation in which all colleges in New York State are required to adopt a uniform definition of affirmative consent, must ensure an amnesty policy in which students coming forth with incidents of sexual assault are immune to campus violations surrounding drug and alcohol use, and have to create a unit within the State Police that is trained to respond to crimes of sexual assault.

While I personally have never experienced sexual assault, I have been heavily involved in encouraging conversations surrounding this topic in order to remove the stigma behind this type of violence on my college campus. Yet, after various workshops and trainings I have realized how even though there are now numerous stories in the media and people coming forth talking about their personal experiences and ways to survive from such a trauma, there is more work that needs to be done to make sure that the voices of South Asians all around the nation are heard. That is not to say that South Asian names are not extremely apparent in the media today. From Mindy KalingandJhumpa LahiritoPriyanka ChopraandKiran Gandhi, Indian women have been making headlines for their amazing job using different platforms to tackle important women’s rights issues. Yet, while there is a significant amount of progressive work being done in organizations like Sakhi and on college campuses, there is more to be done to make conversations surrounding healthy relationships and sexuality more normalized within South Asian communities.

Through watching Bollywood movies, talking to friends, and reflecting on my own relationship with my parents and extended family, I have come to the conclusion that there are certain widespread cultural ideals that often silence issues of sexuality and gender within the South Asian community.  Discussing these topics is essential in raising awareness about sexual assault and domestic violence from a very young age. I have been lucky enough to grow up in a household where my parents have been very open about having conversations involving sex and relationships. My mom has discussed how a partner should be treating me, has made sure that I am respected in every relationship that I am part of including that between family members and friends, and has warned me of the signs that indicate unsafe situations. My relationship with my mom has influenced the way I interact with men on a day to day basis. I pay attention to the words other people use when talking to me, and if I start to feel hurt or misspoken to in anyway, whether the impact of the comment was intentional or unintentional, I separate myself from the situation immediately. I am also aware of physical connection and know how to say stop if I feel that I am being touched in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable. I feel more safe and secure knowing that I can discuss incidents like these with my parents and that I am not alone.

However, even just glancing at the relationships I know many of my South Asian friends have with their parents or even looking at my own relationship with my grandparents, there are so many differences that can certainly lead to a misunderstanding or lack of information about relationships, communication, and sexuality. Without an understanding of what constitutes a good or bad relationship, how one should be treated by others, and even how to stop certain uncomfortable situations from happening, students are going to feel less inclined to speak up and offer support to others who are brought up in a closed, more secretive household.

In order to be agents of change in gender justice movements and push back against environments that claim that women can not be sexual, it is important that women in the South Asian community speak out as much as possible. Whether this means volunteering for an organization like Sakhi or working at colleges to remove the cultural taboo around topics like relationships, sexual assault, or sexuality, it is important to create and foster spaces where  young women can participate. Students should start to teach both elders and younger people the importance of having a relationship where topics like sex and gender can be discussed, whether this means discussing this with parents or serving as a role model for siblings. While change is often difficult and we know it’s culturally important to respect our elders, it is vital that women within the South Asian community assert themselves and create and nurture environments where our voices are heard.

Sonia Mittal is a sophomore at Brown University studying Economics and Psychology. She grew up in New York City and has always been extremely passionate about issues surrounding women’s rights. She has done a lot of work in infertility clinics and looking at women’s reproductive rights both in the United States and in India. In college, she is heavily involved in the South Asian Students Association, is on the executive board of Women in Business, and works with various organizations to bring awareness to others about sexual assault on college campuses.