As the loud and obnoxious daughter of an extremely religious Hindu family, I grew up very fascinated with Ma Kali. Considering the fact that her anger defines her and that she is worshipped for her powers of destruction made me feel less like a freak for being so angry all the time. Today I would tell my 12- year-old self that I wasn’t so wrong for being angry at misogyny or racism, but in those days Kali was a figure I could cloak my my impolite opinions in. I reveled in her anger, and didn’t question this until very recently: Why does our anger need to be subsumed by religion to achieve its legitimacy? I’ve always thought of her as "the Avenger," a more radical version of Durga even, but at the time I didn't really ask why most representations of "anger" onscreen need to fit in an "avenging goddess" narrative.
Barbie was all over the Lakme Fashion Week in Mumbai this year. The doll celebrated its 50th Anniversary by sponsoring the event. At first I thought it was the company’s obliviousness to irony that prompted the fashion show sponsorship, but then it all came together when I read this article last week.