Sex – probably one of the most if not the most taboo topics of human history. Like many children of immigrant parents, however, sex was far from taboo for me – it was literally never mentioned. If you want to see a desi family open up and talk, try sitting them in a room with a slightly sexy Bollywood scene and watch them all avert their gaze and start complaining about their days. It’s like a weird sort of magic spell.
‘The dress spoke for her’
She had no need to tell the world her intention – the dress spoke for her. She ascended to the stage.
It told the world:
Yesterday is a feel-good film starring Nimesh Patel as ‘Jack Malik’, a failing musician whose life is turned around after a freak accident where no-one except him remembers The Beatles. In an expected play-by-play of events, Jack profits from this worldwide amnesia, regrets it and feels guilty. The pop star renounces this lifestyle, where, in the film’s final scene, he admits none of the songs were his at a show at Wembley Stadium, and that he actually loves his best friend/original manager, Ellie Appleton (Lily James).
On paper, the premise of Yesterday’s narrative is predictable yet effective. You know where the film is going and feel alongside the characters, wait for the happy ending and go home. There is little to no lasting impact, nothing about the film truly lingers with you. But as a British-Indian viewer, there was an extra level to this narrative. I’m not saying that me being Indian and the main lead also being Indian made the film better, rather I felt validated as both British and desi.
New week, new poems! The writing prompt for today is:
A very small object
Priyanka means ‘beautiful’,
in a language I can call my own,
it is fun to curl next to my Culture at night,
to be able to call it home.
Many people envy that,
they do not have such a Bubble,
maybe it is because they must find their culture,
in other people’s rubble.
The roof of the house only came crashing down,
I tell them,
because one of your ancestors wanted Greed.
They wanted more than they could bargain for,
and so their limits they did exceed.
Their house grew and grew until it could fit no more,
whilst people of my culture,
were left to wash the floors.
Now, my home is beautiful,
with bright colours and small trinkets,
it has been enhanced.
Perhaps that is why the Names that live here,
are more freely able to dance.
This poem was written as part of National Novel Writing Month 2017 [Day 12, Poem #6]