Friday, October 14, 2011

The Other India, III: Where are the Children?





Rajkumar Mahto of Kirari village in West Delhi lives in a single room by an open gutter with his wife, Hema Devi, and two daughters. Contact with the sewage appears to be the cause of the sores on the children’s faces and bodies. But Mahto says they have broken out because they are worried. The children, he explains, haven’t seen their 8-year-old sister, Kajal, since April 21, 2010. 
“She wanted ice cream,” said Mr. Mahto, who is tall and bucktoothed, and sells secondhand clothes from a cart. “My wife told her to wait a minute, she’d come along. But Kajal was too eager. We never saw her again.' 
Continue reading the third installment of my series, The Other India, on the NYT's India Ink site, here.
Photo: The Mahtos with their two youngest children in their home in West Delhi. 

Monday, October 10, 2011

UK Book Tour, October 14-29

Photo: Srinivas Kuruganti
I'll be in the UK next week for a publicity tour for Beautiful Thing. I'll be appearing at book festivals, libraries, and at several great spaces for readers and writers, such as Asia House and 5x15. Details about timings and tickets linked to the event.

October 14
Cheltenham Literary Festival
5.15 pm

October 15
Birmingham Book Festival
2pm

October 17
5x15
October 18
Asia House
6.45 pm

October 19
South Asian Literature Festival
Women’s Library
Dancing Girls of Bombay:The True Price of Women’s Rights in India
6.30 pm

October 20
Earlsfield Library
6.30 pm

October 21
Willesden Green Library
October 26
King's India Institute
6pm

October 27
Liverpool Library
7pm

Kent
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Saturday, October 01, 2011

The Other India, II: Mangalaji's Tamasha Party


'Tamasha artist Mangala Bhansode is all curves and ample bosom and when she hollers in English “I know you want it, but you’re never going to get it,” lyrics from the hit Bollywood song Sheila ki Jawani, the audience responds with frenzy. Flinging in the air their homespun Gandhi caps, woolen scarves and gloves, even the blankets they’d brought along, they yell back in English: “Once More! Once More! Once More!”
None of this would be surprising if Bhansode wasn’t a 60-year-old grandmother. Or if her audience of 3,000 wasn’t comprised entirely of men. Or if most of the men weren’t Marathi-speaking farmers in a conservative Maharashtrian village far removed from the world of urban India.'
Read the rest of my second installment of The Other India for The NYT's India Ink site, here.

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