The Thing in Itself

"Today at work I was wiping shit down and I was just wistful as fuck. And I was like, damn, I really want to tell Devika about how fucking WISTFUL I am wiping off these goddamn counters. You know?" —Gwenmarie White

Photo: Ryan Primm. Art Direction: Gwenmarie White

An Unsent Letter To The Editor

Re: 'The Kids Aren't All Right' by Anuja Chauhan - Tuesday, April 23, 2013

With respect, Ms. Chauhan's characterization of 'India's Confused and Troubled Youth' is simplistic and layer-less, to say nothing of her diagnosis of its disease—some sort of mass pathology due to which all Indians under the age of thirty are self-obsessed and in the grip of imported fictions of life. Most of us know that life is not an episode of How I Met Your Mother.  Are you aware you're not in Mad Men? Writing an impassioned, conscientious editorial in a daily paper won't transform the advertising industry, much less the Indian youth you are so cavalier about lumping together.

The Youth of India, in so far as it can even be considered one entity, is not homogenous. Not all of us are social media junkies. Not all of us watch American sitcoms. Not all of us speak English. Not all of us were spoiled as children. Some of us even remember our grandmothers' stories. Indeed, those of us truly at the mercy of "unemployment, marginalisation, oppression, corruption"  in the world we've inherited are probably not the ones glued to TVs and laptops. If you're measuring complacency in terms of status updates, your sample size is awfully small. Much like it would be if you were to measure it in newspaper editorials.

If we have body image issues, Dove will not cleanse us of  them. If our moral compasses are in a spin, Vedanta ads about 'creating happiness' won't point them north. Wasn't it you who told us that our dil maange more, and visualised that 'more' as dancing on top of eighteen-wheeler trucks in the middle of the street with big-big movie stars? Is that who you think we are? When Thums Up suggests we do something toofani aaj, why is it all helicopters and stunt-doubles? Why aren't we shown the storm brewing on Raisina Hill? Why does the Fair & Lovely girl have to become a glamourous cricket commentator? Why don't we see her shining brightly in an ordinary city on an ordinary night, coming home from another long day at her ordinary job or going out with her friends for ordinary fun? You want to sell us Coke? Fine. You want to sell us some wishy-washy nonsense about ummeed wali dhoop and sunshine wali asha? We're not buying.

We may not be the single, cogent force of transformation you were hoping for, but we might surprise you with our fragmented agency. Har ek friend might be zaroori, but Airtel will not responsible for our collectivism. Advertising is not going to start 'the revolution'. 'The revolution' will not be advertised.

Too much future to worry about wasting time

They 
never 
questioned 
the terrible 
selfishness 
of dismissing 
every 
unpalatable 
reality 
as an 
intolerable 
interference 
with their 
youth.

Keep Calm and Carry On

"The useless days will add up to something.
The shitty waitressing jobs. The hours writing
in your journal. The long meandering walks.
The hours reading poetry and story collections
and novels and dead people’s diaries and
wondering about sex and God and whether
you should shave under your arms or not.
These things are your becoming." (Here.)