Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Archive for July 24th, 2008

So this journalist calls me yesterday to ask me what I thought about the rise of the ladki lit. Quoting verbatim from some article: “Ten years after the publication of Bridget Jones’s Diary, the genre of fiction most recognisable for its pink cover art of stilettos, martini glasses and lipsticks, is now being colourfully infused with bindis, saris, and bangles,” she asked me what I thought about the rise of ladki lit.

Back up a moment here. Ladki lit?

“You know, Indian chick lit,” she clarified.

Ye gads!

But when I think about it, I kinda like it in a reverse snobbery kinda way. You know, like we all liked Govinda-David Dhawan comedies. Someone. Anyone!! NO ONE????!!!

Okay, so that was just me.

So far, chick lit had been sub categorised into Mom lit, Mystery lit, Wedding lit, Latina lit, Teen lit and so on to give every woman what some snobbish anonymous editor claimed in Boston Weekly Digest, ‘a chance for women of every colour and age to be portrayed as annoying, shallow twits.’ Methinks, this is editor is also one of two things:

  • a) An unpublished author who masterpiece was rejected in favour of a chicklit novel, or
  • b) A published author whose literary masterpiece failed to garner a quarter of the sales of say a Marian Keyes or Helen Fielding.

(There is a reason this editor chooses to remain anonymous)

But I digress.

Coming back to the point, it’s only natural that the term would find an Indian avatar. And it does. I’m just thankful it’s not laundiya lit.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »