A mob is an organism. With this metaphor, we might find it simpler to understand how the principles of a mob operate, and how they work in isolation from the rest of the World. In the usual cases we see, such as that of Akbar from Alwar, the lynching of Pehlu Khan, the lynching of Junaid, have a lot in common. Here the creature attempts to terminate what is not in sync with its own mind. …
we’re taught to hold hands
when we cross the street
or walk with our mothers in parking lots or
navigate crowds with a friend and
don’t want to end up alone
hold hands with whomever is closest
when the power goes out
when the sirens scream near
when the moving of men marches
silences into the corner
hold hands when
they come calling,
when they threaten,
“this is necessary to
teach you a lesson” or
“this is necessary
to protect you”
hold hands when we stand still,
when we walk, when
when they tell us to
Here is an account of a few hours of my life, spread across two years. Every Sunday, for 56 Sundays, I walked the 1665 steps from my hostel bed to the bus stop, climbed the red BEST bus to Bandra, walked to my therapist’s office and lingered on the road in front of her gate until it was time for the appointment. I was always sharp on time and she always seemed to wait for me with a tender smile. I would sit down and keep quiet. She would offer me a glass of water. Such predictability was perchance a…
The session of the Qafila fellowship that took place on 8th July was called “Guftagu”. Guftagu is an Urdu word, that means conversation. The sentiment that the word holds, however, is different, and this sentiment was carried beautifully through each part of the session…brightened by the breakfast potluck.
The session was a layered process that began in self-reflection, and the middle was full of surprises, anticipation, excitement and work, with the conclusion again being derived from self-reflection.
After coming into sync with their feelings with a check-in at the beginning, the conversation shifted towards the question of “how do we…
Let’s see how it unfolded!
The session with Sheeba Ji can be best described as a colour pallet. A colour pallet used in the making of one painting. Where from afar, on the canvas, we might see one painting, with a number of elements. Yet, when we deconstruct..we arrive at the pallet. With so many colours, fused together, amidst their differences and similarities, resulting in a surreal painting.
The session was a collection of things, where one lead to another. We talked about issues that surround us ranging from reservation to parenthood and its responsibilities. But if we were to…
It has been over a week since the chilling report of “Eleven members of a family found dead under mysterious circumstances in their Burari residence” hit news cycles. Since then the case has been reported 24*7 by national media. The case was shocking and traumatizing for everyone who read or heard about it. The police, unable to find any external intervention, almost ruled out murder and everyone with a mic or internet connection started speculating on the probable causes.
Delhi house of horror: All 11 died of hanging
Each morning brought with it a new theory to millions of Indians…
I recently learnt that I’m not a complete millennial, I’m apparently somewhere between a millennial and a post-millennial. Explains a lot. Until two days, finals week had me procrastinating and speed-typing alternately. I’m entering my final year of college now, and it’s going to be a weird space to be in. Some people I know are already graduates. I look upto them and they make adulthood look such a large, looming scary place. …
When I sat down to write this piece, I intended to start it on a funnier note- talking about beating the heat and meeting deadlines. But I soon ventured off into ‘serious’ territory, and the article became less me-centric. And perhaps that is required for this piece.
In the past few weeks, there have a number of rape-and-murder cases, especially those that have affected children, throughout the country. The news has really affected me, and those around me. There have been heated debated on Whatsapp, in class, during dinner and at home. What does it have to with mental health…
I cry at everything. People around me are so used to my tears that they don’t even react at my crying because of books, films, newspaper articles, adverts, stuff happening on the street, in my home, in space or underwater. Seriously, I cried when I found out an astronaut took up a copy of The Dark Side Of The Moon to space and wrote a letter to Pink Floyd about how their music was played in space. I cry if I am too happy, if I am frustrated, if something…
So, the brief given to me for writing this blog piece was that I was a representative of the ‘youth’ and that my voice matters — to talk about issues that I relate to, concerns that are pertinent to me. And that got me thinking, like most things do. I have anxiety so thinking comes a little too naturally to me, you see. Yeah, so I was trying to figure that am I fit enough to represent the ‘youth’? On most days, you can find me watching vlogs on YouTube while procrastinating on one assignment or the other, and finding…