Feminism
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Some movies leave an impact by portraying realities as they are. They succeed tremendously in navigating through the nuances of human emotions, enabling the audience to dive into the world of passion, grief, joy, jealousy, and more. One might also wonder, at times, whether such films are all about their own personal and emotional journey,…
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I just finished reading the novel “Honour“, written by the Turkish author Elif Shafak, and have so many thoughts and views to share on this book. The plot of the novel is sensitive, contemplative, heart breaking, real and nostalgic; I would say it’s a story that resonates with our own personal struggles in the face…
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I grew up in Jharkhand, an eastern state of India with a huge tribal belt, where the innocence and simplicity of tribals have always fascinated me. These qualities steadily disappearing from the urban spaces can be still found among the tribal communities. While growing up in the capital city of Jharkhand, it was quite common…
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The book My Arctic Journal: A Year among Ice-Fields and Eskimos, written by the woman explorer Josephine Peary, is a lucid memoir of a woman who opts to travel with her husband, the North Pole explorer Robert Peary, to the mysterious, rough, and unexplored ice fields of Greenland, rather than being confined to the four…
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My dream to live in between trees and mountains has become more passionate with time. Frankly, I can now see my dream more vividly than before. But, we are always caught between the reality and the unquestionably accepted lifestyle. In this entire race to live as per the parameters defined by a few, the hope…
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It’s easy to pretend nothing happened, When frankly so many things happened, Our pretentious conversations founded on lies and deliberately selected memories are like a TV show talk, Ridiculous and misrepresentation of the truth, You pick the best memories but discreetly throw away the rotten ones stinking of treachery, Now untraceable in the soil, none…
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I Her beauty was above all, Creases of uncomfortableness lined her face like the pink streaks in the sky, Her unbrushed golden hair flew like a tree in wind, Her trembling lips eager to sing were too shy to open up, But they bloomed like deep red rose petals with dew drops resting on their…
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The dichotomy of public and private space seemed just a jargon until I realized how far a woman remains controlled, especially in the public space. Unlike men, women are supposed to be more coy and mindful in the public space. It is really difficult to conduct a debate over a topic focusing on the division…
