The F Word

From an advice column to an otherworldly tale—three feminist voices from the Indian diaspora confront misogyny even as they inspire and empower.

POINT AND NAME

From one generation to the next, SHOBHA RAO looks to the women in her family— sisters and nieces, mothers and daughters—passing on cautionary tales of tradition and the will to transgress

Ten years. An entire decade since I’d last been to India. Of course much has changed, as it should. My young cousin, for instance, who’d been a girl the last time I’d seen her, was now a woman with a child of her own. A baby girl, five months old. Now this baby and I, for the three weeks I was there, managed to spend a good deal of time together. After all, she and I were both new to this new India. When her mother, my cousin, was busy she would hand the baby to me, and off I would carry her to the narrow balcony of my cousin’s flat. I would point to the sky and say, first in Telugu, “aakasam,” and then in English, “sky.” And then I’d point to a tree (chettoo) and then a dog (kookka) and then a bird (peecheeka). Every now and then, I’d peek in to see what her mother was doing.