i have been following the case for a very long time, and to be honest the only reason the queer lawyer is not making any headroom in the court is frankly she is subpar as a lawyer. i’ll explain further.

Marriage is a social contract. but under capitalism, marriages are for producing labourers for the state. ensuring marriage rights makes queers eligible for being viewed as a family unit, and granting them certain social and economical advantages of being the model family. these advantages are generally things like wider social acceptance, and importantly, having a partner with whom you can have a joint account and share fiscal responsibilities.

regardless of marriages, in a partnership, regardless of gender identity this happens anyway. two people share a house, become emotionally dependent, and share fiscal responsibilities. if one of the partner is abusive and leaves after treating the relationship as transactional, instead of romantic, in a queer set up, there is no reparations for the one who has been left.

but this happens in cis-het relationships also. men leave. almost always the woman is left alone picking up the pieces. if the woman was a housewife without proper financial independence or safety nets, even if they were married, the wife almost always ends up with losing everything. if it is an intercaste marriage and if the upper caste man leaves, you know that the lower caste woman will never even have a lawyer that would be interested in winning the case for her, provided someone picks it up. as we have already seen, dalit lawyers do not even get hired, do you think a dalit woman will get justice if harassed by an upper caste? not really, if it did, casteist crimes would have gone down, and not up.

so the problem isn’t queer marriages, the problem is marriages itself. the current legalities do not support people without power. it ensures people with power can continue to hold on to it. and that has been the problem all along. something the lawyer is too inexperienced to understand, and not the right one to fight for it.

the current legal structure do not allow homemakers to seek reparations for the harm caused bu intimate partner violence. marital rape is not even considered a crime in a lot of cases. it is as if, post marriage, the person with less power and agency in the relationship are relegated to a post of providing free labour for the man, and the law also do not register their agency, bodily autonomy, and human rights.

asking for queer marriage without pointing out the issues is wrong. asking for marriage without asking for a redefinition of the structure of family and their association with internal power structure is asking for trouble. this will only make lives of marginalised queers even more unbearable.

that’s what i think anyway. i have known friends who have been divorced and left for nothing after giving decades of their lives for their men. they can’t get justice. there are legal ways, like a pre-nuptial agreement that any privileged person can use before the marriage to indulge in any kind of debauchery post marriage knowing that a divorce can’t really hurt them. something that was never brought up in the marriage issue.

not everyone is also humane. just like there are pedophile priests, there are also predatory queers. who feast on queers more marginalised than them. there are queers who seek out exclusively newly out queers to groom them. one of my daughters got groomed by a queer person recently who has a very high social capital in the local queer scene. there are also queers who behave like straight people and dilute the queer political cause.

legal marriage had been a cis-het thing. without understanding the pitfalls of it, getting into marriage is only going to bring misery. a lot of queers do not also go through the unlearning process of cis-het behaviours, and internalise the toxicity that they mete out to their intimate partner. more often than not even after being in a queer relationship, and being surrounded by community, this can make the homemaker alienated and lonely. legalising gay marriages won’t solve them.

i want you all to ask this question that what do you think marriage is? what do you think family is? you have seen your parents. do you really wanna live a life like them? are you questioning the internal power structure that each relationship brings, or are you still hung up on the social power structure of age and status? how can we live a life that rejects the notion of free labour and domestic responsibility for the homemakers? you spend most of your life in a home, if you can’t help your partner build a better home for you both, do you even see their sacrifices?

today in therapy i realised in my personal life i haven’t practiced what i preached. that has made me feel not being able to face my moral self. i have never expected myself to be in this side of the road. but now that i am, my path is clear. i need to learn to forgive myself for the mistakes i make, and i need to grapple with the fact that reality may not be what we think it is. but hey, i trust myself. i know i’ll get back on my feet. i know i will learn from my mistakes. and i have to be more open about my feelings and i need to share more with the world not to just affirm my own beliefs, but also see things in a way i was incapable of seeing owing to rose tinted glasses. that’s all.

eggs, potatoes, veggies – it's got it all

Disclaimer Welcome to intuitive cooking. These recipes are to unleash the chaos in you. No measurements, just vibes

Ingredients

• Bread
• Egg
• Potato
• Cucumber
• Mayo
• Cheese
• Salt
• Jalapenos
• Pickle (refer to Alex Arson's Pickle Rage for the recipe)
• Black pepper powder

Instructions

• Boil potatoes and eggs for 12-14 mins.
• Peel and mash them along with some diced cucumber, mayo, salt, black pepper. (Do not add salt if you're setting the mixture aside for a while as it will draw water from the mixture. Instead, add the salt right before assembly.)
• Slather some mayo on the bread and toast it.
• Add cheese, sandwich filling, jalapenos and pickle and cover with another toasted bread.
• Toast each side again to melt the cheese.
• Cover with a muslin cloth if you're putting it in a tiffin box to absorb extra moisture so your sandwich stays crisp.
• You can add lettuce between the bread and the filling to reduce absorption of moisture. I didn't have any on hand.

One of my earliest encounters with violence happened quite normally. I was a teen who was drinking on the streets. And cops came in and ushered us into a world of violence. The truth was, we were just kids drinking. We had smoked a few cigarettes and sat around in the car. But we hadn’t done anything major. Why am I talking about this? Because violence from the state is often neither explicit nor created equally.

The Anatomy of Violence

Let’s assume we’re all living our lives normally. That in the brief history of everything, there has been nothing wrong at all. But then you realize that things are not as they were before. I think to recognize state violence, you likely need to flip the switch. Just think of what you’d consider as abuse in a relationship: * Verbal abuse: Cursing you, using slurs, using a variety of words to get you down * Emotional abuse: Bringing you down again and again * Isolation abuse: Leaving you alone * Food/money/other abuse: Depriving people of food, shelter, or monetary gains If you see this list, you will see that the state has been violent throughout. That personal violence has been an ongoing problem for you, and every time a politician curses you out, says hijra-mukto Jadavpur and something else, and every time they beat you up or deprive you of property that is already available and so easily given, or put a pre-requisite of money for any socialization.

Building Understanding

The second phase of uncovering state violence is creating understanding at every level. Now, this is admittedly difficult. We often don’t realize the violence being done to us because we can’t understand how something drives such inhuman conditions at the outset. Maybe because the level of abuse is not measurable, the idea of measuring is difficult, too. So, you spend a lot of time trying to bridge the gap between your relative ethics and the objective morality of the state. The point is simple: if you have a constant state of ethics that guides you, you’re better than the state. And because you’re a good person, you think no one else also violates this set of ethics. This isn’t true. The state will be a greater evil because it needs to be the greater evil. It needs to be something more than the average person. So, it creates chains of responses that deprive you of everything you desire. It creates frameworks that work against you directly, and then it continues to do this repeatedly for the next eighty years until you die.

Confronting Death and Surviving

Violence is difficult to understand. But, it is far more difficult to confront violence and come out alive. When you fight violence, you must build spaces where you can be violent. This doesn’t need to be exhaustive. You don’t need to knife a cop to be safe. But you need a space to scream, rant, and cry. A place where you can look at yourself and remind yourself that unethical behaviors should always be measured against the scale that the state drives at every second of the way. Also, you need to be anonymous in this space. You need to be more than yourself while simultaneously being less than. This is achievable through practice. Once you enter the space of violence, you let yourself leap. You sort through the masks you’ve worn for the state and let the real you peak from the curtain. You might argue that your real self is not anonymous, but we’re hiding so much of ourselves all the time that the real self is the only true masked representation we can find.

Defining the Space

Remember that state violence is not always physical. Remember that violence itself can grow like a fungus and control your soul. So, when you’re defining the space, it doesn’t need to be a Fight club; it needs to be * Safe * Secure * And Homely A community space where you can sing songs together is violence against the state program of isolation. A place where you make love to your partner is a violence against the state program of unlove. Heck, a place to serve food to your friends is violence against the state program of hunger.

You’ve won before. You will again

During the COVID-19 pandemic, Mutual Aid groups were spreading like fungi across the lines of states and cities. People came together to cook for each other and then spent time talking to each other and building rapport across the space. This was the sign that the world was turning, maybe not upside down, maybe it never had the capacity to turn upside down. But, it was turning a little bit so as to give space for you to expand yourself, And trannies everywhere were making friends, building connections, and creating a story.

We can always create that same space again. It requires unyielding hope and an enemy we recognize and acknowledge. The first step, however, is understanding that violence exists, that it is forever, and to fight against is will never be the same level of violence because the state’s violence will always surpass yours. And your violence will always be just survival.

On a quiet evening in late June of 2023, the world ended. This was not the first time; I know it won't be the last. But, personally, it still felt like the end.

Capitalism and Needs

I hate hierarchy, but in the context of Capitalism, everything falls into one. My needs do, too. In search for context within which I can envelop myself, my needs were as follows - * Money – Because everything is governed by the perverse search for material to feed our basic needs * Love – Because money creates holes that materialism can't feed * Food – Because love has a way of leaving you hungry This is not to say that needs won't exist past Capitalism. In fact, to move past this philosophy, we need needs. Because nothing else motivates the human psyche like hunger and desire. But it's not that simple under the pre-established hierarchy. Since money is intricately linked with every need we have, we confuse our other needs with a need for cash. The next big salary, the next big client, the next big thing, becomes our governing motivation.

Money Usurps Everything

On a quiet evening in August 2021, I entered the workforce formally. The contract was signed, and I started working the next day. The premise was simple. > You had failed at everything else, so you now needed to write your way out. So, I started writing. And I did it well. I have always written well and made my way forward in the world. But it still missed a key point in my story. I was wrong in my assessment of the situation. I felt that money filled my need for stability. But, I wanted peace in love, in situations, and in different spaces. > So, money never did fill in the gaps, and I became incredibly infatuated with the concept of earning money instead of the need to have stability. This, then, is the central fallacy of life. Money chases us down in every aspect of life because, in terms of a hierarchy of needs, it falls on the top. Let's examine this with a few examples - 1. You need shelter, but to get shelter, you need money 2. You need food, but to get food, you need money 3. You need happiness, but you tie happiness to material possessions for which you need money This is not a condemnation of the need for material possessions. But, the summation of the fact that once you link everything you possess with money, you only crave that one thing.

When the World Ends

In 2023, I lost my job. It would come sooner or later and have sucked my life out. I was there, getting fat on a salary my paymaster's paymasters didn't think I deserved, so I was out. I would get money for the next two months and could continue being accessible. Good deal, right? I spent the evening when I got laid off searching for jobs. The core need was stability, a thing which I already had for two months, but I had already put money ahead of it because of the hierarchy. The theoretical instability that was two months away was scarier because money had already taken weed in my mind with a call for scarcity.

The Scarcity and the Abundance

Honestly, the mind never sees money as abundant. Now, you can see that as you like. But how long does the last raise in your salary take to become insignificant? This is not a function of your deserving to earn more. > Most people deserve to make more. This is a function of the fact that money is self-consuming. Your life quality will continually improve by very little with increasing money because every material possession that is 1.25x better costs 5x more. So, what seemed like a significant amount of money amounts to little when the paycheck comes through. The perceived abundance of cash is a bug, which always occurs from the outside in. Because every slight increase in life quality requires a blast of money, it looks like you're dying from the inside out.

This doesn't mean that there's no UNETHICAL amount of money

Billionaires are bastards from all sides

The point I am making is that of perception. By circling every benefit in life in increasing costs and building hierarchies that deem money the most essential, we have created a death pit we can't walk out of. Since money is always scarce, our life's missions must be connected. Forever growing, killing us.

No, the answer isn't forsaking everything

A knee-jerk reaction to learning about the scam around money is to ask yourself to give up all possessions. To adopt public property as the sole goal, to feel like desires must be cut short and tamed to build a story. This is not true. There are no positives in giving up desires. Desires are what make us hate Capitalism. In fact, we want to kill this philosophy because we desire for better. You see, capitalism has constructed its own enemy. Since the ultimate desire is Infinite money and capitalism can't give us that in its principle of scarcity, we build the opposing philosophies. If money could afford all we would ever want, we would never want Capitalism to end.

Building a new world

Next time you stand at a crossroads like mine, ask yourself, “Is money the thing I need most at this juncture?” Chances are you will answer yes. Chances are you will return to the grind and follow the same line as many have before. But, if you find other desires beneath money, those that aren't satisfied with a signature and a paystub, harness that desire. *If the need is food, learn to steal and grow. *If the need is shelter, squatting is an honorable act. *If the need is safety, a knife is often scarier than a 100 dialed on a phone. You might say these are not safe options for anyone. That's true. This isn't safe. Especially if you're queer and vulnerable from the start. But, the violence from society doesn't stop just because you're doing something legal. No one has stopped cops from killing trannies by being acceptable and smart. And finally, these are options. Illegality is mostly not fun, and there are consequences. So, if you get the chance to go there, do so cautiously. But remember, money is overrated, and the friends and community that'll feed you your next dinner are more valuable than a wad of cash and come with a lot fewer obligations.

Be safe, and remember that material possessions are so-called because they can be repossessed by a thousand stealing souls.

#tvseries

I have always maintained that Ragnarok is the best modern retelling of the norse mythology. even though that particular moniker stays with it, this season wasn’t really it.

i mean yes, it is directly in line to the stories it was supposed to tell, but something is missing this season, and that is possibly the fact that there actually never were a real villain to fear in this season.

okay, first some context: giants live amongst humans and surprise surprise they also run the heavy industries that destroys nature. magne, who embodies thor in the body of a teenager. apparently gods are born as humans in this idyllic norse town, but giants control it and without weapons they are probably better fighters as well.

hence the first two season was tight. it always felt like the giants, even though less in number always held more power with the money and brute strength. however thor gets his hammer made in season 2 end, and from there we will start.

we know that giants has lost a member so it’s technically 5-3 now. and the giants are scared of the hammer too much. and they can’t do anything at all. firstly, we all know what the hammer can do, but it never showed why is it so powerful that the giants are scared of it. anyway, that was probably never the intention either way.

i am just taken over by how much teenage life has to do with being the god of thunder. not just that, loki is also a teenager and half brother to thor, so that relationship also full of teen drama. the show makes it a point to showcase just how much thor is attached to his hammer, to the point he lets the hammer control him, even though it is the hammer that needs thor, and not the other way around. and i just think, doing it with a teenage coming of age lens has been pretty amazing to say the least.

this season gets more detailed about the lives of the gods and giants, and we generally stopped seeing the life around edda. but i can accept that, there wasn’t anything important there except the people, and we got a lot of those people.

it is quite weird that those people didn’t have much of a character arc. except for thor. and loki to some extents. the real transformation actually happens to Hodur.

i think the biggest part that this season tried to tell us is that, we are always scared of letting down our loved ones. but c’est la vie. that’s life. i personally think, that fear of letting your loved ones down or the fact that we have grief about missing them is the real proof that despite everything we loved them. and i also think it takes a real man to accept their own faults. it also takes a self aware man to understand the harm they have caused and how to not do this again or if possible correct the mistake already made. they put thor in this role, and especially the last episode is the creme de la creme of that.

in that regard, ragnarok keeps the story, as it should. i mean, is it a real story? or is it an active imagination? you’d need the last episode of season 3 of course, and in that regard this is kinda like tokyo ghoul, as in, the whole story makes sense at the end. i have certain issues with those kinda stories, as once you see it, it diminishes the mutiple watch potentials once the cards are shown. it can be done in smarter ways, but this wasn’t it.

i think cg also took a large hit. they didn’t really have to do a lot of cg before, but this time there is a mythological serpent that they needed to show a few times, and it looked absolutely awful. there wasn’t much other cg work, but some of the weapon throws were assisted and that could be visible. but that is more of compositing problem than bad cg, but all the same.

i enjoyed ragnarok. i think the first season was my favourite, but i would recommend you to the whole series. it’s 18 episodes and i doubt there will ever be another season as to me this was a perfect end, and unlike the last two seasons, this one didn’t end on a cliffhanger.

i’ll reiterate again: it is the best modern retelling of the mythology of ragnarok. ragnarok is the end of the world as we know it. i guess for a teenager that would be their school life.

there is this concept in philosophy called meta-knowledge.

it’s about the knowledge about the knowledge. what you know you know. what you know that you do not know. you also know what others need and you also know what you want to know.

sounds simple enough. but it isn’t. not all knowledge are necessary. you don’t need to know everything. if i had a partner and the partner cheated on me while being with me, even though that knowledge will give me closure or a sense of understanding, i do not think i will be mentally able to handle the confirmation. so yes, i would not need to know it.

but enough about what i do not need to. what do i need to know? i think all i need to know is about myself. i need to know who i am, when all of my identities are taken away. i want to know whether i am the person because i was born or i am the person because of the environment. i need to know about how my body works, and i need to know how can i have most control over my body. i need to know what emotions i am capable of having and how to navigate around those.

i know enough about others. i do not know enough about myself. why do i do the things i do. why do i think the things i do. why do i take decisions in certain way. why am i in a balanced emotional sense and see clearly when i am in a crisis.

see, this is the problem. i feel normal around crisis. i can make decisions clearly, i can think clearly, i can be more logical. but i can’t always be in crisis to access this mode. i need to be able to access this on call, anytime i need.

medicines help, i am on prozac, and i can do things i was not really able to. i can get off bed when i want to, i can just call and talk to people if i want to, i don’t feel as bad about my body image on meds. but meds also do not help. i do not intend to keep taking meds. i do not wanna be dependent on the meds.

i want this feeling to stay. i wanna be like regular people, function normally, function regularly. have a grasp on my emotions. make decisions in a clear and concise manner. if i had the means to make my ideas into reality, would foolish or lofty ideals stay that way? what is the price of knowing the path to execution?

Mark this day on your lunar calendar because it's when ISRO's Chandrayaan – 3 pulled off a touchdown dance on the coveted South Pole of the Moon. Yeah, that's right, humanity just scored a goal on the unexplored turf of the lunar playground.

What's the fuss about this lunar south pole, you ask? Well, it's like the Moon's “mystery zone” – a whopping 70 degrees south latitude filled with spots basking in eternal sunlight or brooding in perpetual darkness. Drama, anyone?

First off, calling it the “dark side” is a bit misleading. It's not dimmer; it's just that Earth can't peep at this side due to some cosmic lock called “Tidal Locking.” Think of it as the Moon being camera-shy, always showing the same face to Earth, except for those sneaky peeks at the lunar edges.

Why bother crashing parties on this distant lunar terrain? Oh, because Chandrayaan – 1 found sips of water chilling in the Moon's ice caps. Yeah, water! That discovery could be the first clue to a lunar version of “Where's Waldo?” – like, where's life hiding? Plus, that frozen water's got stories about the universe's wet past locked away.

And here's the kicker: this lunar H2O could be the secret sauce for future space parties. Less baggage means not lugging tons of coolants and Aquafina bottles every trip, resulting in slimmer spacecraft and less gas-guzzling. Efficiency, folks!

But, surprise, surprise, talking to this “far side” isn't a walk in the space park. Chandrayaan – 1 played hide-and-seek with ISRO back in 2009, going radio-silent around the ten-month mark of its two-year mission. No warning, just zilch communication. Cue the space mystery music.

Cut to Chandrayaan – 3: this time, it's got Vikram and Pragyan, both armed to the lunar teeth with scientific gear. These gadgets are ready to dissect everything – from the Moon's heat vibes to what rocks its surface. Pragyan's strutting at 1 cm/s, leaving the Moon's surface tattooed with India's flag and ISRO's logo – cosmic graffiti at its finest.

Stay tuned for more lunar escapades and top-secret revelations. Because, hey, the Moon's got tales, and we're here with the lunar scoop!

How can you be apolitical when the world is killing people like you?

In the last week, India has passed rules decriminalising sexual assaults against male bodied persons. Implications of this being – if you're a 18 year old boy and someone assaults you, you will not be protected by any rights. Your body is to be used for other's pleasure at ge expense of your mental and physical health and that is legally okay. If you're a gay boy, exploring the world of kink, oh honey, you are so massively, irreversibly, fucked. If you're a trans person, existing in the society as yourself, you're fucked too.

Last week India made begging illegal. Last month, India turned down petitions for horizontal reservations for trans people. If you're a trans person, you know how everything is against us from day one. If you're born intersex, you will be given away at birth. Your only option is begging, except now it is illegal. So you serve time in jail. Where your labour has essentially no value. You will be kept in bug infested rooms in extreme conditions.

Last year a man was eaten alive by bedbugs while in his prison cell. The bugs buried into his skin. The medical officer was so disgusted by the dying man crawling with bugs that they left and threw up outside the cell. That's the future they want to write for us.

And yet privilege blinds us so, we remain silent and apolitical because at least it isn't us. Yet.

Oppenheimer: What You Probably Missed When You Watched The Movie

Disclaimer: Please ignore the grammatical mistakes, I will be editing it later.

If you love foreshadowing, you will have a deep appreciation for the storytelling in this movie. I believe it is not about the atomic bomb as much as it is about what the bomb reveals about humanity. The beginning sets the tone of the entire movie. The movie starts when the lead explains how stars die to his first and only student who comes to attend his class on Quantum Physics. First, he asks, “Does light exist as particles or waves?” The answer of Quantum Physics gives is both. It is paradoxical, he concludes. So does, the very existence of a star, where it is pushing against gravity, yet it needs it to exist. The moment gravity overpowers, the star ceases to exist. This is projected in the decisions made by Oppie throughout his life. He is a star who is constantly collapsing on himself.

Time and feelings of a person not being linear is demonstrated through the cinematographic choice of putting past in colour and present in black and white then once again in colour when he is older. This is present throughout the movie, where you cannot really keep up with the fast-paced nature of the movie, where characters changed perceptions are represented in their interactions with Oppie in the past and the interactions they have with the board in charge of his security clearance. The moment you see it merge in Oppie's life is when delivers a speech stating he was proud of what happened to Hiroshima and Nagasaki in the auditorium, but the background shakes, everything is in colour until he walks out. The flashes of cameras transform the screen into a black and white scene.

He used communist means to reach a capitalist end. He housed the employees, he provided the janitor and the scientist, the same infrastructure, medical care and other resources. Furthermore, he used his learnings from his network that educated him about much required policy changes to create a town that could serve his capitalist goal of building a bomb and destroying the competition, which in this case is Japan. Sidenote: War is capitalist and if you disagree, just pay attention to how America, a capitalist country, built its nation on selling weapons. War has always been a way to destroy the competition.

Nolan transforms the ideologies affecting world politics as stages. 1. Socialism (the government funds the town of La Almos) 2. Communism (everybody has access to basic resources, there is collective ownership) 3. Capitalism (the dropping of the bomb)

Of course, every stage is incomplete as it abandons itself before moving onto the next stage. It also represents how Oppie had the capability to have these opposing ideologies exist in his mind, creating conflict and affecting his ability to make decisions based on what he perceives to be the gravity of the situation.

There is an ongoing dark joke throughout the movie, where other characters think the very demonstration of the negative impact of the atomic bomb will instill fear and stop war. This is proven wrong as soon as Oppie tries to use this as a justification for his action of supporting the bombings where his colleague points out, “Until someone builds a bigger bomb.” This then becomes the real threat in the movie where he constantly tries to soothe himself claiming the Hydrogen Bomb Project is just a theory. He mocks the possibility of it happening by claiming that the ideas of the colleague researching about this on his team if implemented, would result in delivering the bomb in an ox cart and not a plane. He knew it to be possible, but he refused to accept it. Not only that, but he has internalized the idea, “How far can theory go?” And he underestimates the impact of it. Just because he was proven wrong by his colleagues in the first half of the movie where mathematically it is not possible to split the atom but in reality it had already been achieved. Despite his mockery, he continues working with theory, hoping for impact. Such dissonance must paralyze a human, but it is not Oppie's dissonance, it is those who are studying him and trying to appeal to their audience's views that Nolan weaponised and presented to the watcher.

The regret he had in real life came later after seeing the impact of his actions, but the movie tries to show that it happened right after the bomb being dropped itself. In fact, it tries to imply it when he quoted Bhagwad Gita during the trial run of the bomb on indigenous people's land they had occupied and built their town on... He later requests the President that the town to be returned to the Indians but we do not know if it actually happens. It is observed when he is walking out after his speech at La Amos and he hallucinates people's faces burning, stepping in a body of a child burnt to crisp, his colleague puking and a happy couple that was making out initially immediately mourning the death of their love/child cowering in a corner. Everybody makes eye contact with him and that is what makes it dreadful.

Paraphrasing the dialogue, “You cannot commit a sin, then expect us to feel sorry for you that it had consequences,” is the moral lesson repetitive throughout the movie. Kitty, his wife, said this when she discovered Oppie's affair resulted in Jean, the communist he was having an affair with, committing suicide. It is also implied she may have been killed where you can see a hand pushing her down in the bathtub but we do not know if it is because she was a communist and the people watching Oppie were watching her and killed her, or it is Oppie manifesting the guilt he felt where he believes he killed her because she asked him to stay, and he chose his wife and children.

Nolan does something different in this movie, where he does not punish Kitty for breaking down. Instead the only few women who appeared, seemed to have been right about everything. The colleague who starts a petition against the bombing, where she tried to bring attention to the possibility of it affecting the reproductive system of women. She gets angry at the male scientists for not taking her seriously, and she exclaims, “Your reproductive systems are more exposed than mine.” While the bomb is being taken away, she is seen delivering a speech where she points our how pointless it is to drop a bomb on Japan after Hitler is dead.

She is once again not taken seriously. When Kitty points out how, Strauss is behind the whole fiasco of Oppie's security clearance being threatened because he mocked him publicly, she is ignored as a woman having a breakdown.

She does not break down when she is a witness to the board of inquiry set up by Strauss (Robert Downey Jr.) trying to frame her husband for being a spy on the grounds of him having attending communist parties meeting and having his family and friends part of the party. Plus his contribution towards the refugees in Spain. Before her testimony, everybody seemed to breakdown under pressure, but she handled it well.

The chain reaction ignored by men was noticed by women. This is what is subtly suggested.

Strauss when he concluded that his trial is a trial about a trial, we know both the instances whether it be the inquiry to take Oppie down or the inquiry about Strauss's unjust scrapping of security clearance, did not follow the rules of a trial and were solely in place to punish the accused. Strauss's opinion about Oppie in his monologue where he concluded that he gave Oppie exactly what he wanted, martyrdom. He wanted the guilt that comes with being a self-important man, but it is him projecting, just like Oppie was...

The movie ends with the conversation between Einstein and Oppenheimer where Einstein draws a parallel between himself getting an award and Oppie being rewarded for his achievements after his punishment is over. He will get a medal, he will be celebrated but that dance will be more for people who betrayed him than himself.

Oppie is not satisfied, he tells Einstein, how the possibility that the world's atmosphere could be burnt due to a chain of reactions and the entire world could be destroyed, has happened.

Just like a star, he gave the world a means to fight itself and keeping surviving against the gravity of situations, but he also created a series of chain reactions that will eventually lead to the demise of humanity.

for a long time i thought i am a hater. i complained about things. everything. i would pick fight with people. if you’re thinking me as an adult, no! me as a pre-teen.

i was full of questions. i wanted answers, if i didn’t get them i’d have a breakdown. but as i grew up, i soon realised adults do not have answers. not only that, most adults do not even wants to know. i have tried to see whether they know already so they don’t care, but that is not true. they just do not care about knowing.

i was also a problem child. food and sleep both were extremely deregulated for me. nobody in the village cared. it is normal, it gets okay when they’re an adult. takes time, for some it takes longer time.

i think neurodivergence is common in our villages, in that lifestyle, neurodivergent people always find their places. i mean, nobody really cares if the kid who goes with the goats to the meadows is autistic or not. that kid will be taken care of. if that’s all they can do, they will do that all their life. i think there is safety in that lifestyle. safety some neurodivergent people badly seek. something i desperately seek.

this however did not fit with an urban lifestyle. so i struggled. i had to wake up early. my grandma would shout for waking up at 8, but here i had to wake up at 6 or so. we went to sleep by 10 pm.

when i went to the hostel, i had some amazing teachers. but i had a problem with authority. i would reject whatever they taught and i wrote whatever i thought of the works. write how this name is perfect for the story: and i would write how it is far from perfect. this was never punished, but encouraged. even if i wrote shit stuff. this got quite a bit of attention and i got to participate in shit like recitation, oratory, theatre etc.

however, in 2007 i got outed as gay in front of the whole junior high. that made me not get selected for these events. and others would come over to my bed at night, regardless of i’m sleeping or not. i even got a very bad case eczema owing to this. i was so out of my fucking mind, i would put salicylic acid all over my genitals and later peel the burnt skin off. it didn’t prevent anything, just the itching.

i hated myself too. i embodied the hater. this hatred stayed with me. i was not a good fighter, i can’t fight, but i learnt to hurt people with my words. and i got very good at it.

i did get a lot of creative freedom here. not all directors would allow someone with my surname to be cast, so i learned technical things of the theatre at this point. light, audio, etc. i made wall magazines, i made audio dramas before podcasts were cool. back in 2008/2009.

i returned home one month into class ten with my parents. my mother had a surgery. i handled all homemaking and also caregiving for others in this time. we eventually got a cook, but that cook was so bad, we had to cook anyway. it is at this point i started learning cooking, feeding, taking care of a bed-ridden person. something that i had to do again for my grandfather in class 12 again. he needed intense physiotherapy. we used bricks as weight for that shoulder pull.

home was full of hatred. i have tried to run away, i have been put on meds to force puberty out of me, i was having an emo phase and smoking black cigarettes in the bathroom. we had constant fights. it is at this point i got very badly manipulated by a married woman. my parents got to know, they blamed me, and took away any access to phones and computers. i was using my father’s nokia, mostly for songs and videos. but yeah. i wanted to apply to isi calcutta. she said she’s a professor, who knew people. anyway, this woman would play with my time and make me question my worth. i did not know what boundaries are, i experienced things i never thought was possible. no one prepared me for that. it felt like hell.

i went to college as hater but without boundaries. i did not care about interpersonal boundaries, but i was snarkier. i’d insult people and they wouldn’t even realise. but college was another kinda hell. in my previous schools, they have discriminated against me, yes, but they didn’t fuck up with the marks. college did. i haven’t really faced discrimination like this before. it took years to realise what was going on.

nobody told me about sc-st-obc-general categories. nobody prepared me for anti caste atrocities. nobody prepared me how colleges are hell for both queer and neurodivergent people.

i got assaulted two weeks into the first semester in a room full of people. some dude came and kept grinding on me and wouldn’t leave me alone. i got assaulted more later, but that’s after i came out as a tranny.

i hated here also, questioned authority, tried to went out of the prescribed notion, and i was promptly punished. it was not that i was ever wrong, to be honest, my profs preferred me early for external no-mark reviews because that would generally be praised, yet i kept receiving the lowest marks in the class. snarky wasn’t helping me. they didn’t get it in the first place. i started asking for answers and eventually write a letter asking to show reason, and that’s when i’m told i'll never be allowed to pass here.

i tried to fight, but i wasn’t prepared. my shit has been stolen before, i was jobless. i had to quit uni, went back home, get support from parents. they unwillingly provided, but that soured our relationship further. me coming out as a tranny didn’t have much effect. i did some work, and then left before the pandemic.

just before the pandemic i got into a relationship with this person who only wanted to keep me as an entertainment. the token tranny. it was a roller coaster. he broke up with me and hooked up with this then cis person who was transphobic towards me.

that fucked me up. but it is then i decided i will love. when i came out as non binary in 2017, i had a hoe phase that ended with surprise surprise, assault again. but i met some wonderful people with big hearts. it is then i decided to be kinder. but in 2020 i realised i love people by caring for them. that is how i love. that is the only way i know how to love. i also give my body. as a token of my love. i do not know what else to do.

so i decided i will give love. i have the capacity to. i do not wanna love one person as a partner, but i wanna share my love, in different ways, via different connections. i of course want a partner and i knew i would devote to them.

i know how to take care of others. i don’t know how to take care of myself. but that is okay. i will learn. i am only 29.

my love is mine to give. my hate is consuming. i want to learn to love myself so that the hate doesn’t come out all the time i feel threatened.

Today on our regularly scheduled family phone calls, my mother said, so casually, as though as an afterthought: Oh tor bon {redacted} der sathe {redacted} geche (your sister has joined a cult named {redacted} and has gone to {redacted}).

Mom went on to talk about the neighbours and their leaky pipes and the damp walls. All I could do was nod and smile.

My 19 year old sister has travelled to {redacted} with a cult. My 19 year old sister, who has never gone to school by her own has travelled halfway across the country with a cult. My 19 year old barely out of school sister with no financial independence has gone to some remote cult compound by herself.

The religious fanaticism in our society is so pervasive that no adult thought to stop her. My parents said it's not their place to comment because she is my cousin sister. So? I would do something even if she was my worst enemy's sister. Yes, even if she was my 6th grade English teacher's sister. The fact is that she is young, impressionable and vulnerable.

She had turned to religion to deal with grief like most adults in our lives guide us to. At what point did God turn from a loving, ethereal being with infinite knowledge and kindness to a crusty old shirtless man who sees no harm in indoctrinating emotionally vulnerable people (let's be honest, people means young women) to tend to his whims? When did God go from omnipresent to living in a shitty ass cult compound in some ass crack of the country?

My sweet, amazing, naturally green-fingered little sister is in a cult. And no one seems to comprehend or care for the dangers that loom ahead.

(Update: I have contacted her, she's coming back home next Saturday, tickets have been booked. I have hidden the name of the cult and the place she's travelled to because I don't want undue attention on her during this time. She is living in a compound with 50 other women. My sister is neurodivergent as well so it's difficult to tell if she actually is okay but I'm hopeful. I will also be contacting local women's NGOs near the compound and the office she was indoctrinated at once she's home safe.)

Three days up, three days down: DAY ONE

The morning sun scorches my skin through the large window beside my bed. The sun burns; burns through my skin, makes its way to my brain, tipping it to a boiling point, like a fire devouring my gloom, destroying all my attempts to resist waking up. And just like that my mood shifts. The slumpy slumber is broken with heat and sweat. I feel the sun is magick! I feel ready. I feel up. The world feels bearable. The world makes sense again. The world feels kind. The world feels beautiful. The world feels wonderful. I feel motivated. I feel upbeat. I care about the world again.

I prance up and glide through my room, metaphorically of course. I look around and I see all the pending to-do things that have been piling up for the last three days. My double bed only has a small spot clean to fit my crouched body to rest, there are a few wrappers and too much of crumbs from my stressful binge eats, a few packets of cigarettes, a few sweat-reeking clothes, my journal and an array of academic books, notebooks and story books and my laptop, scattered around. The dishes in the sink have become a stinky hill of metal and glass. The bathroom rack is a hay short of all my used clothes falling into the mud-footprint-stained floors. I pour a dollop of cat food into the bowls for my cats. I only wash my coffee mug and a spoon to make my morning coffee. I savour it, each sip with a puff of smoke. My procrastinating for half an hour delays my mental to-do list for the day, but better late than never, right? I want to daydream because it’s such a good day because I’ve found a good song to groove to because I feel amazing and I want to enjoy this moment; yet I push and put on my chores playlist and scrub my heart out, scrubbing the dishes to perfection, taking a minute and a half for each item, scrubbing hard water stains, scrubbing through fungi, and making sure they smell good and are up to the proper hygienic standards. Twenty minutes pass by as I realise that my gown is damped from water splashes and that’s exactly when I think “I need to clean the iron silted taps!” Hence, I do what I do best, go take a smoke break as my gown dries up from the fan fuelled wind.

The music switches to indie-rock and I almost fall back into dreamland, BUT I can’t rest. I cannot daydream in peace on a garbage of a bed. My routine is easy and I am efficient, at least sometimes. But the hardest part of making a bed, is changing bedsheets. I am very particular about it. While removing the dirty bedsheet, the dust should not fall back into the mattress; the way to prevent this is to tuck out the corners carefully and then folding the bedsheet in from four corners and then lifting it off the mattress. My neurotic brain perfects the act with every change. Now, when it comes to placing a new bedsheet, I want the sheet aligned properly without creases like they have it in hotels. This particularity of how things should be, do not bother me today, I do not hate it today, I enjoy it today and pat myself for being almost a ‘perfectionist’.

Now what shall I do? After the thorough sweep and mop of the entire furniture-less apartment, I do feel tired but I also need to catch up to three days’ worth of productivity. I end up deciding to do more chores, sort the laundry, dust a bit and arrange the things back at their right place. Today, I am convicted to go home; my parents have been wanting to talk to me and spend some time for a while now.

I completed my post graduation in 2021 and thought I wouldn't have to look back at academia ever again. End of last year I got diagnosed with ADHD and ASD. Although the doctor refused to treat me for it, it made sense that I am neurodivergent. I had been craving the structure of student life for the last two years so I took the leap and applied for a MBA program. It's a pretty chill degree after hardcore Physics for 5 years. I had always been told I'm smart and academically prone to excellence. I always took it with a grain of salt. I know my worth is not all hard work. A lot of it is privilege. I stand wham in the middle of the wheel of power and powerlessness after all. Mentally ill, lower middle class faggot with no generational wealth but a pretty surname, a suburban upbringing and a fluent vocabulary in Inglis. Talk about centrists, eh?

In my undergrad, I raw dogged my depression, possible neurodivergence, anxiety, OCD and whatever else doctors fancy I am afflicted with. It obviously caused my grades to fall majorly. The only time in my life when I wasn't at the top percentile. Today while finishing admission process for the MBA, I applied for a scholarship awarded based on merit and I was told I don't qualify because my bachelor's marks were low. I have a decade long academic performance data to draw from and I don't qualify because one year when I contemplated jumping off the train on my way back home from class every single day, I slacked a little, prioritised healing over hieroglyphs on a piece of paper. Because for the first time in 20 fucking years on Earth, I listened to my body and did my best and not the best I was supposed to do. I don't mind not qualifying for a scholarship. My point is that merit which seems like such a well defined term is not based on any rules. It's whatever the one determining it chooses it means. How can you quantify anything when you pick and choose your input data?

Merit is a scam, a buzzword made up to pander to the status quo. When UC people get handouts, it's called scholarships and grants. When marginalized castes, religions, genders get the same scholarships and grants, we're called beggars, exploiters cheating people off their hard earned money with “emotional blackmail”. We're called out for monetising our identities as though our identities exist only for the consumption, romanticisation and distortion by the oppressor groups.

This is a PSA. If you're a minority, you're not void of merit. You just aren't the ones we'd like to give a boost in life. You were meant to never do great things and if you somehow manage to still do something with this wilfully broken system, well the least we can do is make it horribly, cruelly, unnecessarily difficult.

Hot and Sour Dumpling Soup for the middle class Indian.

What makes a good recipe? Everything and nothing. To me, it's one that keeps things simple with just the right ingredients, easing the load on my neurodivergent brain. That's why this dumpling soup is the perfect blend of elegance and ease – a quasi-fancy creation for when you're motivated to MAKE something but dread the fear of failure.

(⁠◕⁠ᴗ⁠◕⁠✿⁠)

Ingredients:

• Ginger and garlic, chopped.

• Veggies (carrots, beans, or frozen vegetables), one gree chili (split in half)

• Button mushrooms for umami flavor (optional)

• Salt, sugar, soy sauce, red chili sauce, and vinegar (adjust to taste)

• Dumplings (momos from your locality is the way to go, but I'll also provide a short and easy homemade method)

• Cornflour and pepper powder slurry (cornflour mixed with water to thicken the soup)

-a pinch of MSG (optional)

-coriander stems (optional)

Instructions:

1. In a pot, sauté the ginger and garlic until fragrant.

2. Add button mushrooms and cook until lightly browned, then add the rest of the veggies and cook them until they're slightly tender.

3. Pour in water or vegetable broth to cover the veggies, and let it simmer for 5-6 minutes on medium high flame.

4. Season the soup with salt, sugar, soy sauce, red chili sauce, and vinegar. Taste and adjust the seasonings according to your preference. Add the coriander stems too and simmer for 3-4 minutes.

5. Carefully taste test the soup to ensure the flavor is to your liking before adding the cornflour and pepper powder slurry. Adjust the seasonings if needed.

6. Gradually add the cornflour and pepper powder slurry while stirring the soup until it reaches your desired thickness.

7. Once the soup is at the desired consistency, you can add the dumplings and warm them up.

8. Optionally, you can garnish the soup with julienne-cut veggies for a fancier presentation.

I bought Momos from my locality for Rs 45, which turned out great match for this soup. Alternatively, here's a simple chicken dumpling preparation.

Instructions for Wrappers

Ingredients: – 2 cups all-purpose flour – ½ teaspoon salt – ½ cup warm water

Instructions: 1. Mix flour and salt in a bowl. 2. Gradually add warm water and knead into a dough. Coat it with vegetable oil. 3. Cover and let it rest for 30 minutes. 4. Roll the dough thin, then cut into squares. Alternatively, make a long log and cut it into small pieces, then roll it into circles.

For stuffing: – 500g ground chicken – 2 cloves garlic, minced – 1-inch piece of ginger, grated – onions, finely chopped – 1 tablespoon soy sauce – 1 tablespoon oil – Salt and pepper to taste

Instructions:

1. In a bowl, mix the ground chicken, minced garlic, grated ginger, chopped onions, soy sauce, sesame oil, salt, and pepper until well combined.

2. Lay out the wrappers on a clean surface. Place a small spoonful of the chicken mixture in the center of each wrapper.

3. Moisten the edges of the wrapper with water and fold it in half. Press the edges firmly to seal the dumpling.

4. Bring a pot of water to a boil and add the dumplings. Cook them for about 3-5 minutes or until they float to the surface. Alternatively, you can steam or pan-fry the dumplings if you prefer.

When I moved away from home to a new city at the age of 21, I had no real life skills. I knew how to make black tea (don't ask me about steep time, that'll be another blog someday when I have picked up tea as my next hyper fixation) and maggi. And honestly none of them were very good. One day I wanted to eat fried maggi because baby steps. So I purchased some onions and a 30 rupee serrated knife from the store. I didn't know what it mattered if it's serrated or not, I just found the cheapest thing and grabbed it. The next morning, my roommate bought some bread and some butter and I thought to myself, time to add another dish to my ever growing list of culinary prowess – buttered bread. Revolutionary, I know! I learnt so fast that serrated knives cannot double as butter knives. This led to a well set up rabbit hole dive into knife physics. Well, I don't know if that's the official name but that's what we're calling it.

When we think of a knife, the first visual that comes to mind is a stainless metal blade with one side tapered down to a sharp edge while the opposite side remains dull, ending in a handle made of wood, aluminum, titanium, bone, carbon fiber, stainless steel, resin, etc. Otherwise known as a regular kitchen knife. By definition, sharpness is the cutting ability of an edge. So, basically the sharper something is the better it is at cutting. So what does that mean to me? Jack {redacted}. So, down went the rabbit hole and I found a blog that explained sharpness in terms of force. And it made sense. Finer the point, higher the pressure – force per unit area. Extend the point linearly in one direction and you have the outline of an edge. So the same knife will apply more pressure on it's pointy side than the duller side. That means that sharpness depends on not just the edge thickness, but also the force applied to do the cutting, and the weight of the blade and the handle.

Once we have understood what makes a sharp knife, we need to understand what to do with it. Chop and slice are the 2 most basic things we do with a knife. And it all begins with a cut. A cut begins with a crack – the cutting edge of the blade makes a crack in the object you wish to cut. We then apply a force to drive the knife further down into the crack in the object. The edge concentrates this force due to its lower surface area and that's why you can slide down with a sharp knife easily while you'd have to put a lot more effort (force) trying to achieve the same with a duller knife.

Another thing to realise is that the cut that the knife's cutting edge makes is a smaller volume than what the non-cutting edge can fit into. This is why it's best when the taper to the cutting edge is really gradual in a knife as opposed to an axe, where your application requires more hacking than cutting. The thickness of the non cutting edge is also of interest. The taper has an optimal angle ranging from 17-22 degrees. This way you're not breaking the object along the initial cut line when your blade moves down beyond the cutting edge. You're using the rest of your blade to gently coax the two sides of the cut away from each other.

Another important factor is weight. Heavier your knife, less force you have to apply to achieve a similar result as with a lightweight knife. You can just let it slide down and thank Gravity for being just right on your home planet. However, a heavier knife will exhaust your wrists faster. So here comes something every idealist dreads – the tradeoff! Do we want a knife which will be easy on our shoulders and forearms or do we want easy on the wrist? Fortunately, finding a balance is possible.

Even though the physics of a perfect knife is absolute, the perfect knife might vary from person to person depending on their preferences, height of the person, height of the surface where they're cutting, posture, technique, objects they're cutting, a whole plethora of materials they might be biased towards. For example, for me the perfect knife to cut onions with is when the knife is in another person's hand and I'm nowhere near the kitchen.