
Richa Kaul Padte
Articles
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Aug 21, 2024 |
hazlitt.net | David Huebert |John McGrath |Richa Kaul Padte
What it means to be modern is to be creatures of oil. —Stephanie LeMenagerWhat if oil could speak? Is it already saying something to us? — Jaspreet SinghiI wanted to write an oil story, different from the narratives I’d encountered, and a scene from Homer’s Odyssey kept gurgling through the murk of me. To find his way home, the lost seafarer Odysseus must travel to the underworld to receive a prophecy from the blind seer, Tiresias.
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Jul 17, 2024 |
hazlitt.net | Richa Kaul Padte |Amitava Kumar |Mayukh Sen
My nani was born in Lahore. As a child, whenever I stumbled upon this fact, shelved neatly away in my mind, I would pick it up gently, like a dark gleaming jewel, examining it from all sides. What made the stone precious I couldn’t exactly say, but I didn’t doubt its value. It had a distinctive sheen. But then again, so did many things about Nani. When I was young, Nani—my mother’s mother—was the grandparent I gravitated toward. For an “old” person, she seemed the least old.
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Jul 17, 2024 |
hazlitt.net | Rollie Pemberton |Abhrajyoti Chakraborty |Richa Kaul Padte
Welcome to Mind in Bloom, a column deconstructing current events, music and art. On “Speed Drive” from last year’s Barbie soundtrack, Charli xcx dropped the iconic line, “on the mood board, she’s the inspo.” Now the tables have turned and she’s the one leading the PowerPoint presentation. Brat is what happens when an auteur is given a budget and the catbird seat in the boardroom.
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Jun 5, 2024 |
hazlitt.net | Krista Diamond |Kelly Boutsalis |Richa Kaul Padte |Rachel Gerry
I saw the tin foil on the windows of the trailer as I climbed the rusty, metal steps to the door. It was unlocked. Inside, it was dark and dusty. The smell of propane hung in the air. There was an ominous quality to the stained corduroy couch, a sense that something poisonous lay dormant in its cushions. A hulking, nonfunctional CRT television rested in the corner. In one bedroom, there was a pile of used mattresses. In the other, an empty box spring, wood panelling, a garbage bag of clothing.
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Jan 31, 2024 |
hazlitt.net | Mayukh Sen |Kelly Boutsalis |Richa Kaul Padte |Hanna Phifer
Welcome to the third and final instalment of “Brown Hollywood,” a three-part series of essays by Mayukh Sen exploring undertold stories of South Asian performers in Hollywood’s Golden Age. She has no name; they call her, simply, “Hindu lady.” In the 1956 Hollywood adventure flick The Mountain, all the characters gaze upon this preternaturally beautiful Indian woman as if she’s arrived from another stratosphere.
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