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THE TRAITOR WHO IS THE WRITER   This is an essay about writing and trauma   This is an essay about violence: of men, of armies, of women, of relationships, of gossip and memory, of having to remember and having to testify   This essay is an exercise in intimacy It questions why women on the margins have to trade in our trauma for the chance to be heard   This essay in an exercise in trust I have never discussed my writing – writing as life, as living, as central to my existence and my identity – with any of the men in my personal life I feel vulnerable enough giving them my love, giving them the pleasure of my body, giving them the power to reject me from one night to the next I discuss my writing with those who know me only as a writer: my agent, my editors, and most of all, my readers That is why I bring this essay to you: to show you where some of my writing comes from   This essay is the story of how I grew up vicariously involved in the armed struggle for Tamil self-determination This essay is the testimony of what I learned as I listened to other women share their stories of trauma   This is an essay about three women: a Tamil Tigress, a Tamil Tiger’s wife, and me       MY STORY   When did my identification with Tamil nationalism begin?   Perhaps it began when I was a newborn baby, barely a few weeks old, and my father was asked to resign from his job as a Tamil teacher at a school in Choolaimedu, Chennai He remembers the day vividly: 31 October, 1984, the day India’s Prime Minister, Indira Gandhi, was assassinated by her bodyguards Why was his resignation demanded? My father taught Tamil at the Lalchand Milapchand Dadha Senior Secondary School, a private school run by a Hindi-speaking Jain management He had crossed the point of no return by politicising his teenage students and taking them along to protest demonstrations I heard this story repeatedly over my childhood, and remain convinced that when people are punished for their beliefs, it