I’m in a generous mood, especially for someone with nothing better to do than cravenly insult someone on a BLOG while their friends watch.

Here, enjoy three answers to your loaded question:

1) I haven’t done anything which I need to defend– none of the phrases you gleefully cite are THAT redundant. Try Google define:, I did, b/c I take constructive criticism seriously. Once the definitions I read confirmed that you were being obnoxious, I saw no need to reply to you in a manner more mature than your own.

2) You obviously don’t want to discuss or debate anything with me, you just like to judge and heckle from an anonymous place– no accountability is great, but the flip-side is no credibility. Why is it relevant to know you? Because if you aren’t willing to put yourself behind your words, you don’t really mean them and it’s likely you’re a troll.

3) Your mind can’t be changed, so why waste my time disabusing you of all the things which you’ve assumed, which aren’t even accurate?

There was no need to change your IP address. One of the many things you were inaccurate about was a proclivity to ban anyone who dislikes my writing; we ban based on clear violations of our comment policy. I’m not the Maharani of the Mutiny. The other bloggers I am lucky enough to write with aren’t blinded by love and baseless devotion to me– they do me no favors. If they ban you, it’s because you really deserved it.

Go ahead, continue in this unnecessary vein. If it makes you that happy you have far more serious problems than I ever will with my sucky writing.

I’m going to the gym. I’ll smell you later.

The bigger point is the low literary/performance expectations that your ‘ brown peeps ‘ have of one of their own kind. Didn’t I read somewhere you are part of some South Asian Creative Collective? Someone in an earlier post on this blog even nominated you for the accolade of being one of the most accomplished young South Asian women! Your most visible talent – writing, I hope was not the reason. I am guessing your inexplicable defense of that unapologetic cheat, Ms Vishwanathan, is in fact an unconscious admission of your own lousy writing. Just like those ambitious Indians ( one example – singer Shaheen Sheik discussed on this blog ) who figured early on they won’t amount to much in mainstream West ( even though born and raised in the West ) and so relaunched their careers in the old country, you too as a budding writer ( I would assume you are ) should set your sights on the Indian market instead. Your incessant self segregating rants of brown this and brown that have already put you upto speed for the transformation.

I have to run before your lackeys verbally lynch me.

do you have a blog or something published which i can read, so that i can absorb (nay, internalize!) the work of a writer so confident, they feel they have the right to diss and dismiss? do you have a name i can respond to when i reply like this? no? then here is my response.

Dedicated to the Kaavya in Us All

She wanted to rip the stage with appropriate “Fuck Whitey” and “I Ain’t No Curry Mango Girl” sprinkled into her delivery. She knew that type of roaring Spoken Word would awaken the crowd. She gripped the mic, ready to throw down.

But that wasnÂ’t her. Her dice had landed on the good girl shit.

She pulled out the poems, and settled for reading what she had written.

Sorry, this is a bit late…

To great musical crescendo, the movie reached its climactic scene, as the protagonist was hoisted upright by soldiers, crucified.

“Daddy?”

Her father, fixated to the TV, snapped himself out of his gaze, realizing that his daughter was also watching.

“Yes?” he replied, with trepidation.

“Daddy”, she said pointing to the TV, “that man, he’th thtuck!”