Since the last couple years, AI has been taking over a lot of aspects of our daily lives. Every self-proclaimed expert on social media is talking about AI. Like most other issues being talked on social media, AI obsessed crowd has put themselves into a binary of AI-promoters and AI-haters. The regular social media thrives on polarisation as it increases user engagements on their platforms. This also leaves out the people on whom AI is forced upon but their opinions are not being heard or valued. It also leaves out the nuances of using or not using AI.

I have had quite a few in person discussions regarding AI in my personal day to day life, and I want to highlight a few of those.

My local grocery and cigarette shop is run by a millennial. He is quite friendly a lot of young people frequent his shops and engages in conversations on various topics. A few days back, he asked about my opinion on AI. I mentioned AI is a marketing term and an actual ‘intelligence’ and asked further about why he is asking about AI. He mentioned about a guy who is very specifically pro-AI was talking about how there will be no need for coders and artists anymore because AI is getting so good, it will just replace those people. There were other people in the shop, and all of them got into a debate about whether AI will replace the people or not. The shopkeeper, Pritam and a few other customers vehemently denied that AI would replace any humans because they saw AI as a tool, that needs other humans to maintain it. If something made by AI is also breaks down, we will also require actual humans to fix it. I agreed. This is an argument you can’t deny. But he was also lamenting that the guy was quite adamant about the fact and was dismissing everyone’s opinion about it. We laughed at his naïveté and engaged more in the conversation of what actually is AI.

People intuitively know that there is nothing intelligent about AI but they find it hard to express how or why. I decided to show him this nifty new tool by google called https://quickdraw.withgoogle.com

This tool by google is actually a veiled effort by google to train their neural network to recognise human doodling. There is a quite a bit of gamification going on. The tool is like an online Pictionary, where the user is given a prompt and they have to draw it. The neural network accesses a database full with other doodles and tries to guess what the user is drawing. The user is given six prompts and after it, the tool shows the user the prompts and the drawings together along with other doodles users across the globe has done.

We played one game or one round, and I purposefully drew a few completely haphazard drawings so that the algorithm could not guess what I drew. It provided random guesses during the rounds. But after it shows the answers, We could see the algorithm was trying to pick a few lines from the haphazard doodles we have done and trying to calculate the probability of that shape be a labelled doodle from it’s database. Even if it has nothing to do with the prompt. Pritam realised by seeing the answers that the AI was trying to match our drawing with already existing doodles made by other humans. The database the AI have access to has doodles with their corresponding labels on it. When a user draws something, it checks the database and tries to match the drawing with a doodle already existing on the database. Since quite a few objects in the real world would look the same in a doodle format, the AI calculates the probability of a user-submitted drawing with various doodles it matches in the database. At the end it would return the label of the doodle with the highest probability match with the user-submitted drawing.

Here is an example of a correct guess:

Here is its reasoning:

Here is an example of a wrong guess:

Here is the reasoning for it:

So, All this rain had made my life a little difficult. I now understand why people don’t like their kitchen with a windows. The rain comes in. It would not have been a problem if I have not been using induction cookers. As an adhd girlie I do forget about things, so induction makes the most sense to me. It has a timer so I don’t have to worry about running the gas.

Both my induction cooker went bad due to short circuiting. The water got on, and I did not realise. So I was forced to cook in my instant pot. I was trying to get some services locally itself. My logic is simple, I want to support local businesses over casteist companies that takes insane amount of cut from the service providers.

I went to the market and asked around. This sweet old man with a paan goomti directed me towards Suman, an induction repair man in the para. How the local businesses work is, they either come collect from home, or we drop it off in their shop. Suman insisted he can come take it from my home. I agreed, it was convenient.

Suman came, took both my induction, and after that tried being touchy with me. Held my arms, pressed it around, I said no. He said as an excuse that he is a family man, and he does this as a joke. No harm done. I chose to believe him. But I said firmly again that I do not like to be touched. He asked for an advance and I paid 1000 rupees for it. I needed urgent repair and he promised to fix at least my prestige one (2000 INR in value) within three hours.

And he did. I gave the induction at around 8:30 am in the morning and He delivered a repaired induction by 12:30 pm on the same day. He asked for an extra 200 rupees and some advance for my other one, A Phillips one (5000 INR in value). I paid another 1000 rupees for the same. At this point he tried to initiate more touching. Touched my cheeks and chin and also my chest, which I rebuffed. I said again that I do not want to be touched. He then proceeded to ask about what I do, whether I make “films”, do I live anlone, and whether I have a boyfriend. He also said that he liked me. I refused to talk about my work, and said that me having a partener is none of his business, and I need the induction repaired. If he can’t do that, he can just return me the induction.

I really thought the problem would solve by this. One more repair, and I should be done with him. But He kept calling me about how he likes me and wants to come over sometimes to talk and be friends. I kept saying no. Then he said that the repair for the other induction would take 2200 INR above what I have already paid. And I denied. I could buy another induction with that money, albeit not as sophisticated as the Phillips one which has lasted me over 8 years. For me the induction has given enough service and I am not sentimental enough to try to fix it once more.

He would not take no for an answer. I have had multiple calls trying to refuse the service and his advancement of coming over to discuss the issue. I live in an apartment building with three floors with one flat in each floor. I live in the top floor, the middle is occupied by my landlady who is in her seventies and was out of Kolkata for the week. The lower flat was also rented out to two trans girls, who were also out of station for the weekend. I did not feel safe alone in the apartment. I went to a friend’s house, and due to some emerging work, I decided to stay over at hers. The next day morning I also had a full blown argument with the repair man, and I said that I don’t want the induction back, and he can keep it.

I did return to my apartment that day. Another friend also came over to keep me company, I did not tell her the whole story, but I did invite her, and I was a lot more secure in nosing that I am not alone. The next day morning. He kept calling so I, in a move of desperation, blocked his number.

Early next day I went to visit the old uncle in the goomty who referred me to him. For almost half an hour, I explained in detail to him and quite a few other shop owners there and some interested old men who hang around the shop about my ordeal. I have gotten agitated and raised my voice as well, and all they said is they will see to it.

Next day my landlady returned, with quite a few more extra members. So I was feeling quite more safer but there was a dread going on in the back of my head. He came over at around 11 am in the morning and just handed over the unrepaired induction. He also mumbled about working in the para and not wanting his reputation ruined. I did not let him in, did not open the door fully, and just took the induction in.

I later visited the uncle in the goomty and he confirmed that he and few other shopkeepers have cornered him, and gave him an earful about being “modest” and “professional”. I did not ask for details, and I was just glad the ordeal was seemingly over. They also asked me how much I paid, and whether they should ask him to return the extra 800 INR I paid. I said no. To me, the money was fair pay. Regardless of his behaviour, he did collect and deliver the cookers to and from my home, and I am happy to pay fees for a diagnostics. I do not care if the standard market rate is much less. I do want to pay fair labour wages, and that should not be discounted for harassment. And also, he is not going to be Richie rich by getting a few extra hundreds. My peace of mind was worth more than few bucks. The uncles did not say anything to my argument, just nodded their heads.

I am still kinda scared. I did not used to lock my door when going out to the market, but now I do. I do not wanna be surprised in my own home. I do not wanna feel powerless and unsafe in my own home. But I feel secure knowing that I can raise a voice in the para, and I will be heard.

I also think me going public in the local para and engaging in behaviour commonly associated with Hijda people (being loud and demanding solution in no abstract terms) helped me out. We trans women draw power from the Hijda people even if we are alone.

I also wanna mention that in India, according to NCRB database, more than 96% of reported sexual harassment and violation is perpetrated by people known to the victim. This issue is one of the rare cases that falls in the 4% of unknown people. In my personal experience so far, almost all sexual harassments I have faced, which went much further than this was almost always by people known to me, and in a few rare occasions, it was by a date or a client.

This is me putting my thoughts out in writing as a way to process this. Hopefully, my experience in this house and para stays u eventful in the future, because I really really like both the house and the para. Everyone calls me didi and gives me discounts in the market. This is the first bad incident and behaviour I have faced since I moved in April.

Oh I’m sure you had been hungry, I mean who hasn’t? To be honest, I wanted to add so before hungry; I needed to get some things off my chest.

Have you ever been so hungry, That the food you hated so much Felt like the best thing in the world? It stopped making your stomach lurch.

Have you ever been so hungry, That it just made you nauseated? But you couldn’t really puke, And tore your throat instead!

Have you ever been so hungry, Neither coffee nor nicotine could douse it? You curse any and all gods, For giving you an appetite

Have you ever been so hungry, That your mouth got progressively bitter? From you bile; and all you could do Was to make your belt tighter.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you punched yourself in the gut? And then you’re still hungry but also in pain? Yeah, that move wasn’t smart.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you just went to sleep? Hoping not to wake up tomorrow Because this life? it doesn’t come cheap.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you traded your body for a meal? It’s not a real choice, if that’s the only option! IDK about others, but this is what i feel.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you had to crawl back and beg To your abusers? undoing every progress; And that knocked you down another peg?

What do you know of starvation? Do you even know how to cook? Who are you to preach about shit, When all your dialogues come from a book?

You cal me brave, powerful even, But also an uncouth ticking time bomb. I may not have the means as you, But you’ll never know where I’m coming from!

i am a town. you don’t need to know my name. i’m sure you have heard of it in passing, may be even came over and hated every bit of it. but it doesn’t really matter, unless you are sick. so sick from all the pollution and toxicity of your city life that your doctor says to you that you need to change the city for some time. and you ask back that you thought it was for old timey people and for people in the past, but your doctor assures you that it is very real and you have to get out of the city to survive.

then you start researching about wellness centres and destination travel, and eventually you come across me and something clicks. there has been at least someone in your life who have mentioned me to you, and you decide to come over.

you love me. you get to explore my different parts with a slowness you never knew could be possible. you roam around my main street, browsing books in the library or trinkets in the commercial district. you can watch movies in the cinema hall or watch plays in the theatre across. there is grass here and that is greener here. you can’t believe what you are seeing while exploring many of my secrets in sultry afternoon you have whispered in my ears how you are never going to leave me, how you are moving back here so you can be with me forever. stay here, take up work here. or maybe you just wanna plough me all day in your small patch. you think i’m fertile and you can grow gold. but all of those are talks. maybe bravado of a hopeful soul who just found out living like this was a possibility? i have freed you and you haven’t realised what this freedom entailed yet? in a way i think that is my fault. i have schools and colleges, but you came here to heal, not get educated. but i am bad at communication anyway, kids from my town often choose other colleges anyway. i doubt you’d like them either.

eventually you do get a grasp of things. collect yourself. sometimes it takes three months, sometimes three years. but eventually you leave. go back to the same city or to a different one. healed and ready to face the world. you promise me that you’ll come back and that you have to leave because the world is different and i won’t understand, how could i? i am already here and people here don’t wanna put up with me. i have become the mistress you won’t talk about to others. maybe your friends are now relieved that you don’t blast the daily chat about how moving to this town will solve all their life problems.

maybe you will come back from time to time, between your other affairs. and you know i’ll be here waiting for you. i can’t move on silly, i’m a town.

রোজ রাতে আমার ঠোঁটে যেন দুটো ঠোঁট আলতো করে নিজের ছোঁয়া লাগিয়ে মিশে যায়। প্রতিবার চোখ খুলে খুঁজতে চেষ্টা করেছি, তাকিয়ে খালি দেখেছি সিলিং আর সিলিং-এর বুকে পাখা। তাই এখন আর চোখ খুলি না। ছোঁয়াটা থেকে যায়, ঠোঁট মিলিয়ে যায়, মুখ পড়ে না মনে। জীবনে কত মানুষই তো এলো, গেছে সবই প্রায়। সকালে যে শহরের চেনা-অচেনা ব্যস্ততা দেখে বিষণ্নতা বুকে বাজে, সেটা রাত্রে এসে মনে করায় শূন্যতাকে, একাকিত্বকে।

সন্ধেবেলা ক্লান্তি ঠেলে যখন সেই নিজের বানানো পোড়া লাগা ঝিঙে পোস্ত আর মাইক্রোওয়েভে গরম করা বাসি ভাত প্লেটে ঢালি, মায়ের কথা বড্ড মনে পড়ে। আজকাল বড্ড নিজেকে স্কুলের প্রথম দিনের বাচ্চাদের মতন লাগে। মায়ের কাছে যাওয়ার কথা মনে পড়ে, মাছের ঝোল দিয়ে ভাত খেতে ইচ্ছে করে, বাবার সাথে বাজারে গিয়ে রুই-কাতলা দরদাম করতে ইচ্ছে করে। নিজের অসফল খাবারের প্লেটের দলাগুলো মুখে নিয়ে একমনে ভেবে যাই এসব। আচ্ছা, মা খেয়েছে তো? আর বাবা? ওষুধপত্র ঠিক করে খায় তো? দুজনেরই তো হাই প্রেসার, বাবার আবার কোমরে স্পন্ডিলাইটিস, মায়ের পায়ে আর্থরাইটিস। বুড়ো-বুড়ি দুটোর জন্য খুব মন কেমন করে।

ছোট ছিলাম তখন, ভেবেছিলাম এই পৃথিবীটা এতোই বড়, সবটা দেখতে হলে পাখি হতে হবে। পাখি হয়েছি। পাখি হয়ে ঘর ছেড়েছি। ছেড়েছি আরো অনেক সুখ, মনের মানুষ, রাগ-বিরাগের আবেগ, মান-অভিমানের লোকজনদের, কঠিন কত সম্পর্ক, মিষ্টি কিছু ভালোবাসা, মন ছুঁয়ে যাওয়া কত বন্ধুত্ব... সবকিছু পাখি হবো বলে। এই এতো বড় পৃথিবীতে প্রচুর পাখি ওড়ে ঠিকই, সবার কি নাম হয়? সবার কি ঠিকানা হয়?

দিনের শেষে সব পাখি বাড়ি ফেরে। ঘরে ফেরার দিন কি সব ফেরত আসে? মানুষ গুলো, মুখ গুলো, আবেগ গুলো, ইচ্ছে গুলো, ভালোলাগা গুলো, ঝগড়া গুলো... সবটা না হোক কিছুটা কি ফিরে পাওয়া যায়? কেউ কি সদর দরজায় দাঁড়িয়ে বলবে “এসো মা, ঘরে এসো”? কে জানে!

Apps Suck

Labonno was rolling on the floor. Parul was not expecting her to react this way. She was expecting Labonno to be more sympathetic towards her predicament about dating apps. Labonno took couple weeks before visiting Parul again.

In the meantime, Parul has matched with quite a few men. But almost all of them has either ghosted her, or turned out to be some kind of creep.

“You are such a cute little girl”, Labonno was kicking her feet up. “You know, I’m almost 24 now. I’m not so little, it has been like 8 years since we met.”

“There, there” Labonno was on her feet again patting Parul’s head. “You are just hopeless when it comes to talking to men. Also… a bit… desperate” Labonno said the last part very carefully.

“But I am desperate.” Parul said meekly, “At least, that’s honest.”

“Sure,” Labonno said, “But not everyone needs to know that, you just need to find a man also desperate enough to marry you.”

Parul bit her lips. She was not sure whether the last part was an insult or just a fact. Labonno can be very blunt sometimes. Parul decided to get clarity on something that has been bothering her for

– “Labonno” – “Yes” – “Do you have a partner?” – “I don’t run a business.” – “I mean like are you single or taken” – “Why do you need to know?” – “Just trying to figure out whether you can actually help or not.” – “You asked for my help, It was not my idea.” – “I know, I was just, I don’t know, you don’t seem like the type who likes men.” – “Well, I don’t” – “So, like how can you help me get a match with a man?”

Labonno laughed again, it was a hearty laughter.

“Why does it matter? All relationships are essentially the same thing”.

Parul was flabbergasted. This was not what she was expecting. “How do you mean, they are the same?” She asked back.

“Well, if you look at it, all relationships require someone to take care of the house and someone to earn a living. The genders of the partners might change, but the roles stay the same” Labonno replied.

– “That’s kinda regressive, what if both of them work? and divide on the chores?” – “Yeah, that happens, albeit rare. But that’s more like roommates with benefits than a marriage. People generally marry for three reasons: one, to get a free labourer for home while they advance their career two, Someone to breed their lineage with three, To climb to a higher social status by virtue of marrying into it or through their kid. For you the men won’t get the second two options. You are much more likely to get a husband sooner if you are to be a homemaker trophy women. Men tend to like younger women, and you are conventionally pretty.”

Parul only heard the part ‘conventionally pretty’ and has already blocked out whatever Labonno said beforehand.

“Hihi thankssss” Parul was giddy. She handed her phone over to Labonno, “You are the expert, do whatever you want. Get me a match”

“You only heard the pretty part, didn’t you?” Labonno was laughing. “You trans women are so traditional and detached from any kinda feminist ideology.”

– “Labonno…”, Parul was more put together now. – “Yes, Parul” – “You make a lot of sweeping generalisations” – “Yes, those are fun to make in jest, but all situations and people must be treated as a case by case basis. It is just easier to generalise when you personally don’t know them. Like for people on the internet” – “I don’t get it, but it’s okay, I am a dumb woman anyway” – “Parul”, Labonno’s face was stern. “You are now forbidden from making self-deprecating jokes. You are not dumb and never had been.” – “Whatever you say” Parul was covering her smile with her hands. She was not sure about the feelings in her belly. It was like a queasy feeling but something that didn’t feel ill. Parul chalked it up to her bad eating habits.

Labonno sat with Parul for the next three hours sorting through various matches in a few dating apps. The men there were pretty quick to reply. However, many of them unmatched quickly as soon as they realised Parul is a trans woman. Quite a few just flat out asked if she is a prostitute and if she is, what would be her charges for a night. Labonno grimaced and was trying to hex them, but she didn’t know enough personal information about the men to do that.

Some of the men agreed that they are fascinated by trans women and kept praising how brave Parul is. But Labonno again unmatched straight away with those men and that created a fight between her and Parul. Labonno was insistent those men are just fetishising the experience of Parul, but Parul refused to agree. Labonno eventually heaved a sigh of disbelief and said, “You know what, it would serve you best if you experienced some of these things yourself, who am I to deny you trauma you are set to inflict upon yourself?”

Soon enough, Parul was inundated with questions like whether she has ‘the surgery’ or not, how big her penis is, and whether a man sucking on Parul’s dick would make him gay even though Parul is a trans woman.

Quite a large number of straight men were expecting Parul to fuck them and that was making Parul question her own femininity. Labonno refused to engage. She said, “I’m not your mother, you need to navigate this yourself.” She seemed a bit aloof to Parul, who was getting anxious at the detachment of Labonno.

Labonno did point out that subby straight men are normal and getting pegged doesn’t demean either their masculinity or Parul’s femininity. Parul just comes with pegging machinery pre-attached. But Parul was quite distracted and dysphoric and was on the verge of crying.

“I don’t go on dating apps for this, I never have a good experience” Parul was almost sobbing.

Labonno hugged Parul from behind. She didn’t say anything this time. It was a tight hug with a lot of warmth. Labonno’s head was near Parul’s shoulder and she could feel Labonno’s warm breath in her neck. Parul held Labonno’s hand and broke down in silent cries.

Labonno didn’t offer any words of comfort, but she also didn’t say “I told you so”. She was just there, holding Parul, while she was having a breakdown after a very long time. Parul hated feeling vulnerable around other people. Especially Labonno. She wanted Labonno to make some sarcastic comments, but Labonno didn’t. Parul lost track of time for how long she was crying. Eventually when she got herself together, and withdrew herself from Labonno’s arms, Labonno softly said, “Go wash you face, I’m gonna prepare some food for you”

Parul wanted to argue and say she doesn’t need her, but no words came out. She did manage to say eventually that she isn’t really feeling any appetite at all. But Labonno rebuffed her. She took out a pouch from somewhere on her person that Parul has never seen before. “I’m making a special tea for you. Trust me, you’ll feel better and will get back the appetite. Now go to the bathroom.”

Parul took a bit of time in the bathroom, and when she came back, Labonno was still preparing the tea. She took out a highball glass Parul forgot she had. It now had water, and a herb with thin pointy blade like leaves, and purple leaves in the stem. It looked scary.

“That doesn’t look like a tea” Parul was trying to converse casually as if she didn’t have a breakdown over dating apps a few minutes back.

“Not yet”, Labonno said calmly. “This is Chiretta, it takes overnight to prepare. If you boil, it will have different properties.”

“Am I supposed to drink it tomorrow?” Parul was thinking of flushing it down the toilet the next morning.

“You forget you are with a witch, this is a simple magic” Labonno said calmly.

“All magic is about equivalent exchange, If I need to harness the power of natural energy, I need to offer something in return, as an accelerant.” Labonno said as matter of fact, that Parul couldn’t really understand.

“I don’t think I have ever seen you use magic other than teleporting” Parul was curious.

Labonno did a curt nod. “Well there is always a first time for everything. But shush now, I need to concentrate. Magic is also about intentionality”

Parul sat down on a chair with wide eyes like a child. The excitement of seeing magic made her forget about the breakdown she had.

Labonno was uttering somethings in a tone of whisper that Parul could not make out. Labonno whispered it for some time, and eventually she took out her right hand and bit on the tip of her ring finger. Blood drops that looked like glistening rubies gathered on the pointy nail that Labonno had on her ring finger. Then she put just the tip of the nail into the water. The blood instantly got mixed with the water but instead of it being brown or red in colour, it glowed with a shimmer. Labonno kept rotating her finger inside the glass in a circular motion and soon enough a whirlpool was forming inside the glass. Yet the herb looked like it was in still water but aging quickly. The glow eventually stopped. The water has become quite murky and dark greenish, and the herbs were not really visible anymore. Some of it was floating and looked a bit slimy.

“Drink this” Labonno offered the glass to Parul. Parul took a sip and instantly was aghast. “It’s so bitter” Parul muttered.

“It is. It is called the king of bitters, but it is very useful. I collect it from a friend. It has become quite rare now. Don’t waste it, it costs an arm and leg, you can pinch your nose while you drink it.” Labonno seems excited about the herb.

Parul didn’t want to drink it a bit, but she also didn’t wanna disappoint Labonno. She pinched her nose and chugged the bitter murky water in one go. Labonno took out the slimy looking herbs. “I have also fixed some khichdi for you, I remember it being your comfort food”

“Labonno…” Parul began to speak. Labonno was looking at her with a gaze of care Parul hasn’t seen for a long time. “These apps fucking suck, but I think, with you on my side, it might just suck a little less.”

freedom from?

Many things.

One such thing is the “di” and the “da” Not dida. Di and Da.

The custom of marking who popped out of a vagina before you by an honorific. A mark of respect for the coincidence that the other person was born before you.

It does not matter what they did with their life.

It does not matter what personality they have.

Bully, cruel, asshole. Whatever that person might be. Our culture says that the main thing to remember is who was born before. And that should be the metric for assumed and automatic respect.

I hate it. I do not want automatic respect because I was born before someone else. I do not want to give automatic respect to someone because they were born before me.

Getting birthed before someone is not an achievement. It isn't merit.

No “da”. No “di”. That's what I want freedom from.

There are bigger things: patriarchy, capitalism, colonialism, brahmanism, etc. I want freedom from. But hey on the way, lose the da and the di. Respect all for their actions. Or don't. I am not the boss of you!

-Bhumika Arya, M.Sc. Economics and Analytics

Christ University, NCR

India is home to the world's largest tribal population, with 697 tribal groups and communities across the country (as per the Anthropological Survey of India). Each tribal group is distinct and has its own culture, art, handicrafts, and other distinctive characteristics, as well as a very sustainable and environmentally beneficial way of living. Indian tribes have a lot of potentials to be excellent entrepreneur assets to the Indian economy because of their rich culture and art, therefore making them a crucial element of the workforce for economic progress. Tribal handicrafts not only display tribal craftspeople’s unique culture but also provide a source of income for them. What distinguishes tribal handicraft from modern handicraft is that tribal artisans create their art and handicraft using resources from their indigenous lands and surroundings, which not only make tribal handicraft unique but also demonstrates how local resources can be used to their full potential by the creativity and culture of these tribal artists. Despite their rich art and handicrafts, tribal artisans and entrepreneurs have failed to reach their expected efficient growth over the decades after independence. One of the main reasons is scheduled tribes being the economic and social minorities and facing discrimination by the majority and privileged members of society for decades during and after colonial rule. Machine made products always have had an edge over the hand made product industries, this is mainly because of such products having good quality and being less costly as compared to hand made products. In this era of capitalisation and consumerism, fast fashion brands have taken over the traditional industries of art, fashion, clothes and jewellery. Everything is being produced at bulk level for consumers by these brands, mainly because they employ large capital and machineries which makes their products efficient and also large production costs less. Consumerism has increased the demand for each and every product and services. Brutal competition faced by fast fashion and mainstream brands: Tribal artisans, are expected to face brutal competition from fast fashion brands, this is mainly because, fast fashion brands have huge capital invested, larger parts of markets are already captured by them, it becomes immensely hard for tribal entrepreneurs to set their foot in this competition and their survival. How Tribal Entrepreneurs can help in the economic growth of India? Entrepreneurs are vital to the economy because they aid in the acceleration of economic growth by uniting the forces of production to produce goods and services. Any economy must develop a sense of entrepreneurship in its citizens for the country's resources to be utilized to their full potential. Understanding of Tribal economy can help us understand the economic and entrepreneurship behaviors concerning Indian Tribes, helping government in creating and implementing policies for SSIs n Tribal population and sensitizing consumers to include tribal products and services in their consumption. In terms of India's economic history, we can see how trade played a significant role in India for numerous centuries, even before the advent of western industrialization. All over Asia and some areas of Africa, India is known for its commerce in traditional handicrafts, art, and jewellry. Indian tribes and artisans have been playing an important role as producers of handicrafts ever since the ancient period. Before independence, Indian handicrafts (including tribal handicrafts) were in big demand across the countries. During colonial period, these industries were destroyed by british government’s Discriminatory tariff policies and Systematic deindustralisation. After independence India tried to gain back its tribal economy and handicraft industries, through many plans and policies. Government funds have been allocated for tribal development in almost every 5 year plans, mainly focusing on increasing the productivity and conditions of tribal farmers and their indigenous farming practices and helping them in training and skill development programmes Tribal artisans hold vast cultural assets in form of art, in this era of brutal competition in globalisation, it’s very easy for non-tribal brands to copy tribal designs and sell, which makes tribal entrepreneurs vulnerable and at risk, as their own art may not belong to them as some Big brand companies already took copyrighted claims over the designs. So it becomes very important to educate tribal entrepreneurs on their rights, and how they can have copyrights and patents over their cultural art, designs and products. Indian tribal entrepreneurs have a lot of potential, skills, and talent, and the growth of Indian tribal entrepreneurship is good for the Indian economy, societal norms, and it also means that Indian tribal culture, art, and skills will be preserved. Despite all of this, they continue to struggle to exist in global marketplaces. They are susceptible and at risk of failing to survive in the market due to competition from large firms. In addition to being protected by numerous rules, tribal entrepreneurs must also develop their abilities to keep up with the changing digital world and receive consumer support in order to maintain a secure position in the market. Investors must recognise tribal business talent and future opportunities before investing in their ideas and businesses. All of these can ensure the holistic growth of India's tribal tribes, as well as the development of this nation's marginalized sect. Consumers need to educate themselves to make better consumer decisions and buy from tribal artists instead of buying tribal products stolen from big and foreign brands. Support should be given to tribal artisans on online platforms and online selling websites, to better create sensitization among consumers. Moreover legal aid should be given to tribal artisans and entrepreneurs if they see other brands copying their designs and art. Angel investors and the public can play an important role to invest in the business ideas of tribal people and help their business to grow and be able to compete at nationals and international level. Capital funding and easy availability of credit through online methods need to be made accessible to tribal artisans and entrepreneurs for their business.

References

1. Mitra, A. (2008). The status of women among the scheduled tribes in India. Journal of Socio-economics, 37, 1202-1217.
2. Subramanyam, P.V. (2020). Social Exclusion, Inclusion, Integration and Development of Tribes in India: Anthropological Holistic Perspective.
3. Meena, Ms. & Chaturvedi, Ankita & Gupta, Sachin. (2021). OPPORTUNITIES IN TRIBAL ENTREPRENEURSHIP & MSMES.
4. Srivastav, Nirankar & Syngkon, Rickey. (2010). Marketing Management and Entrepreneurship Development in a Tribal Dominated Economy: A Case Study of Small Scale Industries in East Khasi Hills District of Meghalaya, India. SSRN Electronic Journal. 10.2139/ssrn.1817302.
5. Dr. Devath Suresh (2014) TRIBAL DEVELOPMENT THROUGH FIVE YEAR PLANS IN INDIA – AN OVERVIEW.
6. D.C. Sah, Ashish Bhatt, Tapas K. Dalapati (2008) CHRONIC POVERTY IN REMOTE RURAL AREAS
7. Ram Pravesh (2016) CHALLENGES AND OPPORTUNITIES OF TRIBAL ENTREPRENEURSHIP IN INDIA
8. Holt, D. B. (2002). Why Do Brands Cause Trouble? A Dialectical Theory of Consumer Culture and Branding. Journal of Consumer Research, 29(1), 70–90. https://doi.org/10.1086/339922 Neha Sharma, and Dr. Ruchi Goyal. (2017). “PRADHAN MANTRI JAN DHAN YOJANA (PMJDY) – A CONCEPTUAL STUDY.”International Journal of Research – Granthaalayah, 5(4), 143-152. Ministry of Tribal Affairs- Government of India https://tribal.nic.in

Harder than it looks.

Parul has never been more frustrated with witches and their shenanigans more in her life. In the last month alone Labonno has teleported unannounced inside the house multiple times a week. She seems enthusiastic about matching Parul up with a man.

“You know, I have read bloodsuckers are nicer, they ask before they get inside a house.” Parul has scorned at Labonno once.

“Well bloodsuckers don’t wait around to collect their debts” Labonno snapped back.

Parul didn’t say anything, it was already worse that Labonno was invading her private space more than normal. She didn’t wanna start an argument again.

“Why are you sending that hand icon as soon as you get a match? that makes you look lazy and desperate.” Labonno said looking over Parul’s shoulder. Parul was just swiping on a dating app.

“I mean what else am I supposed to do?” Parul asked meekly.

“Don’t text them first. Ever” Labonno was stern. “You are looking for a husband. Not a lover.”

Parul wasn’t expecting this line of thought from Labonno. “Are they separate? I thought you marry someone you love.”

Labonno was chuckling. “No silly girl, you marry for social status, not love. If people married for love, the world would have been very different.”

“I’m sorry, I wish to be married to someone who loves me. That’s the dream of every girl.” Parul retorted.

Labonno laughed. It was a dry laughter. As if she was frustrated with the naïveté of Parul. “Do I need to remind you that you were not even planning to get married, you wanted a husband to get the adoption process going.”

“Yes, but since I’m getting married, I thought…” Parul interjected but Labonno cut her off. “I’m not done.” Labonno continued, “Your government allows couples to adopt, that is the social status you get from being married. Your focus should be getting my debt paid off. Not side quests like love.” Labonno took a pause but held up the right index finger to not let Parul cut in. “Also, you don’t find love when you seek it out. You need love to find you. Which is not gonna be possible for you given how you spend all your days cooped up in this tiny home”

Parul had no words to say. Labonnos words cut deep, but at the same time there wasn’t any lies in what she said. Parul couldn’t argue back so she decided to focus more on the app and started swiping aggressively.

Soon enough, the app showed a message saying Parul has exhausted all her available free swipes and whether she would like to buy a premium subscription to continue swiping. Parul heaved a sigh of frustration.

“Maybe I should buy a subscription.” Parul said to herself. She then turned to Labonno and said, “Maybe it’s time for you to go, there’s nothing more gonna happen. I ran out of swipes and I’m not gonna pay money for matches”

Labonno didn’t say anything. She just teleported with a crack. Parul heaved a sigh of defeat and lied down on the floor. Trying to get a match while someone was looking over her shoulder has given her a lot of anxiety and it was only now dawning on her that this situation is likely to get even worse.

Parul didn’t realise how long it has been till she got a notification from her phone. A match has texted her back.

Parul looked at the message from the notification. It said, “girl you look hella fine, what do I do to call you mine?”

Parul cringed at the message, and instantly took a screenshot of the notification to send it to Labonno before realising that witch doesn’t use a smartphone.

Parul opened the app, and quickly typed, “Awwwwwwww, you can put a ring on me, and call me whatever you want.”

As soon as she sent the text, the match started typing. the three dots kept popping up and down for a good amount of five minutes. Vanishing in the middle for couple times. The waiting was crucifying. Parul’s mind raced around to figure out what possibly could he be writing that takes so much time. After a while a sole word popped up.

“Bet”.

Parul was confused. All that typing to write just this? She didn’t know what to write back to this message. She thought for a bit, and typed out, “I don’t mind if you take me to dinner first though.” and hit send.

She immediately got the response from the app that “You can’t send messages to this person anymore”. It took a bit of time for Parul to realise she has been unmatched. Parul was angry now. Why bother writing something that you obviously don’t mean? She through her phone in frustration and decided to make herself a bowl of cereal. She kinda missed Labonno now. She really wanted to know how would Labonno react to this interaction. She hurried back to her phone again and picked it up to take a screenshot for reference. Then she realised the app deleted the chat as well when the dude unmatched. She was inside the chat window so the app couldn’t say anything to her face, but once she exited the app, it made sure to make it look like no such interaction occurred.

Parul went to the app store and gave the app a one star review out of spite. It was late. She needed to cook dinner. So she decided to be mature, and hurried off to peel vegetables. She was seething, but she was also looking forward to venting to Labonno.

A shady deal

parul never thought in her wildest dreams that witches are real. Let alone how persistent they could be. It was a moment of desperation when she made the deal. But now, in her dimly lit kitchen, Labonyo, the witch, was nursing a glass of goat milk and staring at her with judgemental eyes that felt like it was piercing her soul.

Parul was sixteen, homeless, living off scraps from local shops, and sleeping in benches in bus stops. She wanted to just live and no payment was too high. So when the witch asked for her firstborn in exchange for her getting to live a life she wanted, she agreed without hesitation. She wasn’t thinking of having a child in the first place. Parul saw love as a tool for patriarchy designed to control women. And as a self-made women, being in love felt like a bigger betrayal than cheating a centuries old witch out of a deal. She thought this as a bad credit card debt. She just never realised out of her naiveté that credit card companies also have hoodlums they call the debt collectors, and at this point, Labonyo was feeling less like a witch and more like a debt collector doing a home visit.

“Parul, were you always planning to cheat me out of our deal?” Labonyo’s words felt calculated. Parul wasn’t expecting a direct question like this. She fumbled and couldn’t come up with an answer.

“What is given, can be taken away” Labonyo added serenely, “All your progress can go away instantly, and you won’t be sixteen again either.”

“I didn’t mean to, I was just…” was all Parul could master before Labonyo cut her off.

“I know what you’re gonna say, ‘Oh i never wanted to fall in love, I can never have kids’ — I knew that. Your firstborn doesn’t have to be biological. Just someone who see you as a mother. All this time, and you still don’t think how much power our choices hold.” Labonyo took a big sip from her glass of milk.

“How can I adopt without being married? This is India, trans girls like us aren’t allowed to adopt” Parul mumbled.

“That seems like a you problem, Parul” Labonyo interjected. “You figure that shit out. I need my payment. I have been nothing but generous to you, but I simply can’t keep providing free service, can I?”

“I’m not asking you to provide free service…” Parul started to speak.

“Bitch, please, you were totally planning to default on the debt, I have lived for over five hundred years, I have seen stupid people like you who thinks they can scam a witch” Labonyo was not taking any excuses today.

“Okay fine, just help me get a date then, and I promise I will get an adoption process going as soon as i’m married and give you the baby when they turn seven, as promised” Parul begged.

“Your dating life is none of my business and no, I can’t keep helping you without anything in return. My other coven members are starting rumours and they are not good for my business.” Labonyo was dismissive as she took a bigger sip from the glass. She seemed distracted.

“Not help, just tips.” Parul was desperate. “You want this solved fast? Me too.” Parul took a pause. She was calculating her next words very carefully. “Not to self-victimise, but your debt calls aren’t nice. I’d really like if you didn’t just teleported in the middle of my kitchen any time you please. It’s unsettling”

“Again, not my problem” Labonyo seemed a bit irritated.

“You are also saying people are talking about how you can’t collect a debt.”

“Who is saying that? I have a perfect collection score” Labonyo seemed very agitated now.

“You just said your coven is saying stuff”

“That’s none of your business, and for your information, that’s not what they are saying. They’re just saying that I have been…” Labonyo bit her tongue in the middle of the sentence. “You don’t have to worry about what they are saying. This doesn’t concern you. You should only be worried about your debt to me.” Labonyo suddenly was very focused on her glass of milk.

“That’s what I’m saying” Parul was confused at the tone of Labonyo, but she was also seeing a chance she didn’t see before. “You are a very experienced woman, I just want tips on how to be a proper woman. You know I didn’t grow up socialising as one. you know, girls help each other.”

Labonyo didn’t say anything back. Parul continued, “Just help me be more feminine, help me with dating, if i get an adoption going in a year, you can be assured of my payment, and the rumours about you will also stop. It is a win-win for us”

“Don’t think I do not see what you are trying to do, I’m not stupid” Labonyo was surprisingly calm. “But yes, I do think this might be the best solution for me too.” She continued. “I will give you tips, but one year. If you are not engaged within a year, all bets are off”

And with that Labonyo teleported with a crack and without a goodbye. Parul heaved a sigh of relief. How in the world witches are real and why do they need your firstborn? Parul made a mental note to ask this to Labonyo the next time around.

Well, people who know me, knows that I swear by Tartan Noirs. So when I first heard that Val Mcbride’s epynomus character Karen Pirie was coming to the TV in 2022, I was over the moon.

Shetland had been one of my favourite recommendations for people getting into the genre, but after Karen Pirie’s explosive first season, I can say that Shetland has a very good competition now.

Karen Pirie is one of the main female crime solving characters created by the Modern Queen of Crime Val McDermid. I really like her writing because she incorporates feminist and queer themes from her lived experiences of being a radical feminist and a lesbian. So more often than not, her characters operates under the extra pressure of optics and patriarchy.

Karen Pirie is no different, her office nickname is Box Ticker, because the boys club in the police station considers her a dei hire. To be honest, In the first season she gets the job because she is a woman, and she is picked because the actual murdered, who is in a higher position in the police force, never really thought she could be up to the job.

I think it is safe to say that the first season of Karen Pirie exceeded all expectations so much so that, other streaming services scrambled to make their own version of cold case procedurals as soon as possible. Netflix came out with Department Q with Matthew Goode, and Prime literally cancelled Bosch: Legacy to give more value to their similar show Ballard with Maggie Q.

I was kinda sceptical with the second season of Karen Pirie to be honest. But this month I had been a bit ill, so I found that a good excuse to binge the whole of Season 2 in one go. It is again a three episode season with one and half hour episodes. And it retains the same structure of going back and forth in the past to the present.

Unlike last season, the victim this time is not a working class woman. It is about an heiress of one of the biggest oil baron of Scotland. Catriona Grant. James Cosmo, who you might know as ser Joer Mormont from Game of Thrones or as Farder Coram from His Dark Materials plays the role of the Grant family Patriarch with utmost believability. He has been so good that our blunt to a fault detective couldnt figure out what he could have been hiding.

This season was a lot more predictable, as the series progresses you could spot some of the chinks in the armour, and guess which direction the story is going. Yet, the ending will still surprise you.

This case opens up after a surprisingly well preserved dead body is found in an abondoned quarry. That man was in possession of Catriona’s car keys, which he used to kidnap her. A kidnapping that happened 40 years ago, in 1984. Karen did find out eventually that Catriona was already in on it on the kidnapping and asking for the ransom, but eventually they also find the dead body of hers as well, throwing all speculations out of the window.

This season is more about class war than anything else. The Grant family has secrets, and they would go to any lengths to keep them from coming out. It doesn’t also hurt that they have all the resources and the money to undercut the detectives and sabotage the investigations. They did it last time, and tried really hard this time as well. However, they did love their daughter and grandson, and would not have harmed them either. Grant’s businesses put multiple miners out of work, so it could have been about a revenge from the unionising miners as well, or could be the crime family that is known for their ruthlessness in Scotland.

I really like scottish productions. their cinematography is very beautiful and having picturesque small towns seem like an added bonus. There are a lot of new actors who I do not know, and that is honestly refreshing. Chris Jenks as Mint, or Karen’s new puppy is actually a very lovable himbo.

I also need to point out that when most american procedurals are basically copaganda, british shows often take the route to show how much corruption there is in the police force. Sure, Karen Pirie is not as dark and heartbreaking like Red Riding, or as hellbent against corruption as Line of Duty (fuck the last season), but it still shows the cracks quite clearly. However I do not like the fact that the show pushes one bad apple rhetoric. However, I guess I can look the other way since their portrayal of systemic racism in scotland is quite realistic.

Val wrote 8 novels about Karen, so I guess we can expect six more seasons to come. I do not mind waiting for couple years for new seasons, and I do think the breaks help a lot. I hope the show is renewed again.

I also like the politics of Val. Queerness in her writings exist as a matter of fact, and generally has no bearing on the story. Which is extremely refreshing in the claustrophobic queer tv show genre where everything rotates around it. Queer people are more than their sexuality, and I’m really glad the show stays true to the source material.

I do recommend you watch Karen Pirie. It doesn’t treat the audience as stupid, and often it shows the audience a lot more context about the characters than the detective without divulging any extra details. That is extremely hard to do and the show-runners deserve praise for executing that flawlessly. If you have liked procedurals like Shetland or Broadchurch, you’ll feel at home with Karen Pirie.

Oh I’m sure you had been hungry, I mean who hasn’t? To be honest, I wanted to add so before hungry; I needed to get some things off my chest.

Have you ever been so hungry, That the food you hated so much Felt like the best thing in the world? It stopped making your stomach lurch.

Have you ever been so hungry, That it just made you nauseated? But you couldn’t really puke, And tore your throat instead!

Have you ever been so hungry, Neither coffee nor nicotine could douse it? You curse any and all gods, For giving you an appetite

Have you ever been so hungry, That your mouth got progressively bitter? From you bile; and all you could do Was to make your belt tighter.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you punched yourself in the gut? And then you’re still hungry but also in pain? Yeah, that move wasn’t smart.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you just went to sleep? Hoping not to wake up tomorrow Because this life? it doesn’t come cheap.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you traded your body for a meal? It’s not a real choice, if that’s the only option! IDK about others, but this is what i feel.

Have you ever been so hungry, That you had to crawl back and beg To your abusers? undoing every progress; And that knocked you down another peg?

What do you know of starvation? Do you even know how to cook? Who are you to preach about shit, When all your dialogues come from a book?

You cal me brave, powerful even, But also an uncouth ticking time bomb. I may not have the means as you, But you’ll never know where I’m coming from!

where is the trans movement?

Nothing is universal, but some trends are visible: NGOs are scared. Their funds are drying up or they know will dry up. Their ideas dried up some time back. They are trying to squeeze the dried up ideas to get some more juice (Rupees) out of funders. NGO leaders keep repeating that the community is not interested, not invested, as justification to not do anything other than what they have already been doing. They are literally having to bribe the community to attend their events. Events are mostly designed to be photo-ops that can be used to seduce funders. Learning, growing, being, becoming, these are hardly part of these workshops, trainings, and events.

The community is left in a lurch while agendas lacking courage are debated ad nauseam in meetings and conferences. The public is neither consulted nor informed.

We need a different style of movement. One that is distributed, leaderless, employs wide range of tactics, connects a wide range of ideas and demands beyond identity politics. We need movements – plural – in street corners, living rooms, offices, neighbourhoods. We deserve unruled movements. And no one else will give them to us.

not really feeling artsy anymore

What will a writer do when they lose all their words?

For a writer losing all of their words is like plucking all of a child's favourite toys. And you'll see a child cry and throw a tantrum and roll over the floor to get the toys back

But a writer? Specifically this writer that we're talking about, she just shuts herself down. Writing in a cubicle surrounded by white walls and selling lies did this to her.

A black cloudy figure often loom over her shoulders. She felt it's presence everytime she opened her notebook to write. It lurked on her even when she had something decent to write about at work. For they prefer the machine’s version over a human's. For there is nothing real or romantic about marketing useless things. For she's suddenly so scared of the mistakes within her words. The black clouds continued to loom over her. Sucked all the colours of her notebook, her quill, her papers. And then finally her. She sits alone now, by her favourite tree trying to bring back the words that once she didn't have to force it out. She used to write like she's about to be breathless if she doesn't note it down. Like the words were her anchor to hold on to when life crashed merciless waves at her. Now she writes and goes back to her words and feels shitty at how less it all feels. How it doesn't satisfy her anymore. The feeling of not owning anything she writes cuz all of her words are merely prompts for AI to eat up and spit out baseless words that are more likely to get a conversion.

She wants everything back. She wants to go back to hating her parents and not empathising with them just so she can muster up a write up about how horrible they actually are. She wants the romance in it back. She wants to fire back in her words. She wants to look up at the sky and think of poems on the spot like she always does. She wants the music back, the kind that had her up at 1am and write about it.

Until then she'll have the stormy black clouds as her companion. For it has to rain someday.

Why does the queer community hate bisexuals, nonbinary people, and polyamorous people?

Before I proceed I should mention that my observations and conclusions are all anecdotal in nature based on my lived experience, and is in no way empiric. I am writing this piece to start conversations.

I was in a relationship with a trans man for almost 3 years. We bonded well and were compatible. But during this time both of us realised that we were polyamorous, and confided that to each other. I wasn't romantically interested in anyone except for him at that time despite being polyamorous, and I told him the same. We gave each other consent to date other people as well, given if we have a clear conversation about it first.

A month after this conversation, he broke up with me over text. Our mutual friends tell me that he has been dating another man for a while, and the other person was a better partner for him than I could ever be. I was devastated.

Unfortunately, I am not the only one who went through this. Many of my friends have been cheated on, with their then partners using polyamory or open relationships as an excuse to betray the trust of their partners.

As a polyamorous person, I know this isn't polyamory. This is lying, this is cheating, this betrayal. Polyamory is nothing but a flimsy shield. But my friends, who are monogamous, do not know that. They think that polyamorous people are liars who are hypersexual and won't hesitate to break hearts just to get their sexual fix. So my friends and other queer people develop a disdain of polyamorous people based on their negative experiences.

On top of that, some unethical polyamory practitioners treat minorities as a trophy, a game achievement. They become chasers for trans women and men and caste and religious minorities, approaching them with ideas of roleplay the person isn't comfortable with. The disdain grows.

Similary, some monosexual people hate bisexuals. They associate bisexuality with promiscuity and lying behaviour, because their bisexual partner cheated on them with a person of a different gender.

From the past discussions it should be evident that queer people are also prone to biases about fellow members of the community based on anecdotes. The same is for how some people think of nonbinary people.

India has been home of many identities that exist beyond the binary. On top of that, due to imposition by the state, some trans women and men consider themselves to be a “third gender”; and they can become fully a woman/ a man by undergoing bottom surgery and HRT. But, describing one's gender as “nonbinary” is relatively modern and confined to urban middle class queer circles. A lot of working class trans people feel betrayed when they see UC middle class nonbinary individuals being celebrated for their transness even though they haven't done any meaningful work to uplift the members who are in the grassroots. This betrayal develops into bias, that the people who call themselves nonbinary are just calling themselves trans for social clout, they aren't “real trannies”. And it doesn't help that some nonbinary individuals use their assigned gender at birth to defend themselves from valid criticism from trans women. They, intentionally or not, play into gender essentialism; by potraying themselves to be inherently “soft and pure” for being AFAB, and making AMAB individuals to be inherently “violent”.

It should be clear that these biases are made by observing people who are using their marginalized identity as a shield to absolve themselves of their wrongdoings. It's not the fault of the identity, its the fault of the person. As a collective we need to do better by protecting the ones who are the most at risk and asking for accountabilty from the ones who hurt us.

একুন ইউএসএ তে ট্রান্স মানুষ রা বেশ কস্টে আছে। নোটুন নিয়ম বেরোচে, রাজ্য সরকার থেকে আর কেন্দ্রীয় সরকার থেকে কি ওদের কে ওই বাথরুম ই ব্যবহার করতে হবে জেতা ওদের জোনমোগাতো লিঙ্গো সাথে মেল খায়ে। ট্রান্স মেয়ে রা স্কুল কলেজ এ খেলাধুলা এ অননো মেই দের সাথে খেলতে পারবে না।

আর একতা কি ট্রান্স মানুষ রা জোখুন পাসপোর্ট নবায়ন বা ভিসা জননো পাসপোর্ট জমা করচে, ওদের পাসপোর্ট জাপ্টো কোরা হবে, ফেরোদ পাছে না।

আমড়া থেকে টিজি কার্ড উদযাপন করচি। কিন্টু, ইউএসএ এর অস্থিরতা দেখে কি আমাদের ভাবা কথা না: সরকার/স্টেট সে তথ্য তা নিয়ে কখুন কি করতে পারে, সেট কি আমরা জানি?