qqMy mother used to weave aaydans, the Marathi generic term for all things made from bamboo. I find that her act of weaving and my act of writing are organically linked. The weave is similar. It is the weave of pain, suffering, and agony that links us.qqActivist and award-winning writer Urmila Pawar recounts three generations of Dalit women who struggled to overcome the burden of their caste. Dalits, or untouchables, make up India's poorest class. Forbidden from performing anything but the most undesirable and unsanitary duties, for years Dalits were believed to be racia.Teachers like Deshpande for Marathi, Limaye for Sanskrit, and Sohoni for geography taught us very well, without any ... But untimely love, like untimely rain, would at times ruin things. ... That is why my essay writing must have improved.
|Title||:||The Weave of My Life|
|Publisher||:||Columbia University Press - 2012-05-29|