My father, the ever controversial, the ever outsider of the Hindi literary scene, is once again part of another controversy. I usually keep to myself, never getting involved in any of this, I don’t usually even talk about my parents and their work. However, this time some people have ‘threatened’ him that they will reveal his real self to me: the charges are that he is a misogynist, a sexist writer, a problematic man, etc, etc.
I know the tricks of his trade. He is a provocateur. He enjoys writing things that will anger people. But I am not here to defend him. I don’t fight other people’s battles. I am here only because I have been mentioned.
The kind of freedom I’ve had growing up, I now realize, is almost unheard of. My life, my views, my writings have always been free. So, I am here to reciprocate that privilege: he is free to write whatever he wants without worrying about what I will think of him.
To honour his freedom, because he has always honoured mine.