Swara's

When Prada introduced footwear modelled on Kolhapuri chappals, Indians on the internet erupted with rage. We felt violated by cultural theft and appropriation; robbed and discredited. This response isn’t unique to Prada and Kholapuri chappals. Similar outrage surfaces when a white woman rebrands oiling her hair as the “clean girl aesthetic,” while Indians were mocked for the same practice not very long ago. We see influencers and netzines calling out the Western world for commodifying yoga and stripping it of its “true” essence. Reaction videos of Indians fuming with anger are quick to pop up when an American eats naan the “wrong” way, when someone dismisses Indian cuisine as “subcontinental pound-of-spice slop,” or when casual comments label Indian food as disgusting.    This rage is neither surprising nor new. It emerges from long histories of misrecognition and cultural dismissal under colonial regimes and within global cultural hierarchies, only to be later celebrated ...

In the past week I haven’t slept for more than 4 hours. Mind you, sleep is the most important thing in my life. As hard as it is to believe, I am a religious follower of ‘early to bed and early to rise’ —thanks to my mother (or not). The past few weeks have hosted some of the biggest sporting events— the FIFA World Cup, Wimbledon, the British Grand Prix, Women’s test— and many more. For an avid sports enjoyer this is not just a coincidence but a holy congruence.   I am an enthused sports watcher and a passionate admirer of the culture of sporting. So, I would naturally prioritise watching Sinner win the Wimbledon and sitting through the FIFA semis (even when I know, at best around 4 players in the whole vicinity of football) over my precious sleep.   I see the most I see, through sports. I know the most I know, through sports.   I see sports bringing the best out of humans. I have watched Ajinkya Rahane winning a series for India and handing over the trophy to Afg...