(Photo source: Visitors to the Taj Mahal, Agra, 1992 by Raghubir Singh)
The Mughals being dropped from history syllabi in schools reminded me of a book by Yoko Ogawa called “The Memory Police.” The book is situated on an island where things…disappear. Things like, birds. So characters in the opening pages of the novel wake up one day to see something flying in the sky but have no recollection of what it is — no memories, no history, no vocabulary. A few pages later, calendars disappear. The final blow — and easily the one that was the hardest to read for me — was when novels disappear. Libraries are burnt, and books are seized. A character sees words on a paper, but she has no idea what they mean.
I was thinking about these disappearances in memory because it reminded me of how fickle memory is. Sure, the memes on Taj Mahal are funny, but that’s because we are taking for granted that the presence of the Taj is too gigantic to ever be erased from memory — public or private. But, and I’ve never wished to be more wrong, I don’t think so. If you see something in front of you — even if it’s something as stunning as the Taj Mahal — and don’t know where it came from, then it disappears in memory. Yours, and everyone else’s. Think of all the forgotten ruins you see on a walk in your cities — you see them, you might even take a photo, but do you know intimately the stories behind it? Probably not.
Who decides what memory lives, and what doesn’t? In Ogawa’s book, there are groups called the Memory Police. They detain anyone who is found in possession of disappeared objects — creating fear, obedience, and of course, resistance. It’s almost as if the Memory Police know that the easiest way to subjugate a people is to affect their ability to know the story about themselves, and the world they find themselves in. It’s the oldest trick in the book and the most effective. Take any — still untampered by — accounts of histories of oppression in the world and you will see the same thing play out. It’s the reason Partition historians are rushing to record oral testimonies of a generation that might die soon.
It’s memory on the verge of being lost.
If history is a story, memory is our ability to recollect it. If we omit parts of the story and tell the world that the flawed story is the only story that matters, we create an inheritance of incomplete memory. A generation of people who maybe will look at things, but wouldn’t know what they are.
A generation that will look at themselves, and wouldn’t really know who they are.
This is quick edition of the newsletter — mostly because I couldn’t stop thinking about the parallels between the news of chapters of Mughal histories being dropped and Ogawa’s novel and wanted to jot something down. If you haven’t read the novel, please do so. You can also read this piece by Jia Tolentino on the novel in The New Yorker as well.
There are so many incredible books on Mughal histories — if you have your favourites, please drop them in the comments. This is a good starting point, if a little academic. And this if you want something that is a bit more popular.
Links of The Week (and Some More Updates)
Work update: Around two weeks ago, I bid farewell to the good folks at Vitamin Stree. where I was working as the senior editorial lead. I joined the organisation in August 2020, and it has honestly been an incredible experience. For now, I am on a break writing and reading. (Which is why both the quick newsletter, and the long links list respectively.)
Book update: In 2021, I wrote an essay on female friendships and book clubs. That essay is being published by Yoda Press in an anthology called “Yaari: An Anthology on Friendship by Women and Queer Folx.” You can pre-order your copies here. Also, how lovely is this book cover!
Okay now, links.
Maggie Smith’s poem “Good Bones” is a modern classic which revitalised her career. Her marriage, though, didn’t recover. This piece reminded me of how we still don't value women's intellectual work. Writing is writing. But when some do it, we say "oh, it's a calling" For others, we say "oh, it's just a hobby." Genius, as it turns out, is a gendered thing.
This inside look at the Metaverse and the people that inhabit it is the saddest, and the funniest thing I have read in a long while. If this is the future, we don’t need it.
I am guilty of scrolling through Instagram, and feeling like everyone has better lives than me. The FOMO is real, but like this piece argues, it’s also ultimately pointless.
This sucker punch of an essay about grief, and what those in the throes of it wished everyone else knew.
Any mention of Andrew Tate is a good way to make me angry, but this piece speaks to the young men in UK who came under his influence and makes some compelling points about the masculinity crisis.
That’s it from me this week. I hope you’re doing well. I am in Delhi currently, and enjoying the slight cool of the spring here — with the underlying dread of what it means for global warming predictions, of course. But, ah well. As always, I would love to hear from you — just hit “Reply” or drop a comment.
I will write again soon.
uff as was not logged in all got wiped .. anyhow in brief lovely read . Disappearances are unknown .. present / gratitude / being / alive / active et all will keep defining eons ..
see last post long back .. still around?
Would love to read more of your thoughts
Best