From the Editor’s Desk

Turns out that my favourite stories about life are that of courage. My house help invited me to a puja in her area, a different Durga puja she had said. Curious, I went to see the Goddess, she had described in great detail. Hardly a five kilometres distance from my house, was a colony of slum dwellers that I wasn't aware of before. The last one kilometre was a road that wasn't motorable. I met three transgender women standing on the fringes of the puja, watching the festivities from a distance. We spoke for a bit, they laughed, walked around with me, and then left-their laughter had become the force that gatekeeping couldn't block. I returned home feeling somewhat bewildered. Who or what remains on the fringes of our well curated plans for life is often a bit fuzzy, only courage seems the operative word that lands everytime.

I was reminded of Gandhi's march in Noakhali, on a certain evening where he sat by himself and played with children with a ball, because none of the adults had turned up for a march that he had called in protest against community violence. Very little has changed since the days of Gandhi, fear and courage are still just different sides of the same coin. In India, it is that time of the year again when the fierce goddess Durga is being worshipped. People usually associate her with courage, with anger that is needed to protest against evil. You see that anger, protest and disillusionment in the streets throughout the world now. More than ever now, whether like Gandi you sit alone, and play ball in a protest march or sing songs through the night in rebellion with fellow protestors-you are being tested, probably less about what you stand for, and more about what becomes of our collective truth.

This issue too, stands for literary courage, in the ability to revolt against stagnation of our thoughts. October for you dear readers.

Maitreyee Bhattacharjee Chowdhury
Managing Editor, The Bangalore Review