Nowadays I write 75% of my stuff in my native language, Finnish.
I decided to give my blog an Anglo-Indian name to make it accessible
to the world outside our minuscule language community, and here I am,
in my immaculate white kitchen, wondering what to cook tonight, when
resources are pretty scarce and two kids are screaming their heads off,
WE WANT FOOD, NO LENTILS, NO CHICK-PEAS TONIGHT!
It's time to call Mommy's Little Helpers. Shivani is the lady-in-charge,
the robust kitchen lady who snaps all greedy little creatures fingers the
moment they try to snatch more than their share. Perhaps she's the
descendant of Lord Shiva, the haggard swirling god, also known as
Nataraja. She takes care of the body in the business, the sharing of
comments, opinions, even criticism proper, on prose fiction we've
recently been through.
Shivani's moon sister is Almagul, who mainly writes poetry. Alma
stems from the steppes of Central Asia, and prefers pigeon-shooting
and horseback-riding to futile talking.
Anukatri is the social commentator on this site, who spends her days
in the so-called "field", although she can't recognize rye from wheat.
She's keen on discussing anything that makes her tick, at the moment
those things are multiculturalism, feminist politics, childrearing, basic
education, and citizens' rights to basic income in a welfare state that
is getting less "welfarist" every year. Out of the three, Anukatri's feet
are most "Asiatic", they are broad and flat, staying firmly on the ground
where she happens to be located.
If we're lucky, we might all get fed tonight. It looks like frozen spinach
soup with boiled eggs. The first stains on the virginal stove will be light
green. But we don't really like such misogynist metaphors.