The Indian Quarterly
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The Indian Quarterly (IQ) is a national and international magazine. We hope that just as The New Yorker exhibits a distinctly Manhattan sensibility and always contains articles about New York City, IQ will manifest the fact that it is edited and published in Mumbai through its cosmopolitan and open-minded perspective on the world and on India. In fact, we hope to provide a unique way of interpreting our ever changing culture, and to define our own experiences through the strength of thought, ideas and imagery, be it in the form of fact, fiction, poetry, illustration or photography. IQ is therefore a paean to the polyphonic nature of reflection and the creativity that is its outcome.
GeneralisaTions can be Tiresome, but I try to get the measure of a city by observing how people behave on its roads. Indoors they might harness their anger, but they often let go once behind their steering wheels—overtaking rashly, shouting obscenities, being aggres- sive. The shrinks might tell you they are angry with their parents, boss, colleagues, wife, children, even a golf partner on a winning streak. But since they can’t take it out on them, they do so with strangers. Perhaps the summer months sets the cauldron boiling even more feverishly—combin- ing the heat of the moment with that being sent down by a scorching sun. This issue’s theme is heat, appropriate, we thought, for our heated times. Jai Arjun Singh looks at Hindi cinema’s attitude to heat as well as, in return, how our intemperate climate has treated these films. Akshai Jain assesses the first major investigation into the effects of global warming—which studies ants. Michael Snyder follows the peregrinations over centuries of the chilli pepper. Avtar Singh reflects on his childhood perceptions about the summer. Shougat Dasgupta feels the pulse of an angry nation and wonders about his own lack of rage. Disha Mullick tells the story of Khabar Lahariya reporters who put out fires at home but light them outside their hearths. And Shiv Ahuja’s photographs capture the hot energies of a rock concert. Elsewhere, Anuradha Roy considers mud, elegantly. Yasir Abbasi gets nostalgic about major, long-dead Urdu film magazines. An extract from Nathaniel Gaskell and Diva Gujral’s new book makes a case for how singularly hybrid the modernists of Indian photography were. Revati Laul finds a serious attempt to engage with agrarian distress at the Kochi Biennale. And Mickey Patel’s 1968 sketches of Gandhi remind us of the need for peace, love and tolerance. Our fiction and poetry section is as rich and varied as ever. Enough good writing in this issue to keep you coolly contemplative over a long hot summer.