Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Photo by  Food Photographer | Jennifer Pallian  on  Unsplash Because life is about the chocolate fantasies among molotov cocktails that light up this night. And I'm the wraith that walks those desolate streets, the sound of my feet padded in silence. Because I'm the silent watcher. I may not say a thing, but I know you... I watch over your nights.

Photo by  Joanna Kosinska  on  Unsplash I have eaten the plums that were in the icebox and which you were probably saving for breakfast Forgive me they were delicious so sweet and so cold - William Carlos Williams

Photo by  Bruno Henrique  from  Pexels Written November 30, 2010 The little bird was afraid to fly. All his brothers and sisters had leaped off the ledge and soared upwards, flapping their wings with ease. But he feared the water that lay beneath, swelling hungrily. He feared the wings he had never had to trust before. The little birdie was pushed off his ledge. He had to fly, or he would fall and be swallowed by the hungry waves below.  My Therapist on the Roof told me I had no choice. I'd been pushed off the ledge, so I had damn well fly. The problem is, right now, I don't know whether or not I've forgotten to flap my wings.  I'll start now, before Fear raises its ugly head and roars out loud. It's a scary prospect, which is why I always manage to hold that wolf away. Maybe not this time. Maybe a little scaring is in order.  When you step back and look at the bigger picture, it scares you, because you're reminded that you're not alone. An

Photo by  Andre Moura  from  Pexels Written August 19, 2013 'Coz I am just a scared quiet child In a cold lonely night And I couldn't explain these tears of mine If I tried a million years And would you make fun of me Would you leave if you saw Would you be angry And fail to understand? 'Coz I'm just a scared quiet child In a cold lonely night And I couldn't be anything else If I tried a million years It's like a cloudburst on a summer night Never stay too long Everything rooted only feels pain Adrift there's only you In the shadow of the moon's face And the dead weight of the past You're the glimmering hope i see When pity twists my heart 'Coz I'm just a scared quiet child In a cold lonely night And if the best i could catch on my sunniest day Is you, I'm good as dead

Photo by Luis Villasmil on Unsplash The emotions press against my skin, threatening to spill over. Pain and confusion dominate, along with a heart-rending need to scream. When will it end, ask the invisible scars constantly opening up along my arms and legs; how much longer, ask the pits that open up behind my eyelids. When, asks the scream, right before it explodes into unending blackness and agony. They don't want to hear the truth, the fact my mind has long since resigned itself to. Never, says my brain softly, hopelessly. Never, I accept, and yet my body continues to rebel in an unending, soundless tantrum. 

Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash At the end of the movie Captain Marvel, Carol Danvers faces off against former mentor Yon-Rogg and all his henchmen. She smashes the crap out of Yon-Rogg's ship and his allies and chases him down to the group. We then get this gem: Yon Rogg : I’m so proud of you. You’ve come a long way since I found you that day by the lake. But can you keep your emotions in check long enough to take me on? Or will it get the better of you, as always? I always told, you’ll be ready, the day you can knock me down as yourself. This is that moment. This is that moment, Vers! Turn off the light show, and prove, prove to me, you can beat me with… [Carol uses her photon blast on him and blasts him away] Carol Danvers : I have nothing to prove to you. [she offers him her hand, Yon-Rogg takes it, and Carol drags him off] I could hardly believe he had the audacity to repeat his bullshit from the beginning of the movie, where he consistently beats her during their spar

Photo by Arnaud Jaegers on Unsplash Election results are depressing as fuck. (Although not unexpected, one can't help wishing for a miracle, in this as in all things). And I don't see a way out of it. How the fuck do you change peoples' minds? How do you fight the cyber machinery? J asked, "How do you stay safe?" but I think that's an exaggeration. For now, we are safe. Because we are not marginalized as much. We can afford to live in decent places and go to work at decent places and are not first choice target for a lynching.  The day may come when that protection is stripped away, but it has not come yet, and we should use our time and privilege and push back, to find the answer to unlocking this horror show. ...Assuming there is an answer. 

Photo by Alice Alinari on Unsplash Written June 13, 2013 The strange light burns on  Through the night with strange  blades  For company/ Whirring through the air Sending light  And air a-scatter As below them, things and lives shift Alike in a sea of trash They stand vigil over a strange place A ruined palace its mistress afflicted  By a strange illness For what could cure her she sent  Away way before the start of time The wound within fest'ring Like tears under a strange white light She scoffs  At princes on white chargers Sent for her amusement/ Waves  Away her food and drink And sits by the sill to wait In a strange vigil/ listening For hoof beats forbidden/ For the sneak Of stealth and whispered treason For news  Of the exiled, of rebellion and war A strange prayer From her lips/ victory  For her enemy to return To whisper her hence Strange hopes into the wind/ Lay  My kingdom to waste Pillage, let the flames tear at the sky  For I sent my l

Quelle journée ! Je suis mentalement épuisé. Tant de choses se sont passées. Plus particulièrement, les chats se sont échappés. Tous les chats, sauf V entus. Ils étaient au dernier étage, derrière le tapis roulant. Et quand j'y suis allée, Kali a paniqué. Il est passé devant moi, mais je ne l'ai pas suivi, parce que je m'inquiètais pour les autres. Puis, j'ai pris Lydia, et je l'avais amenée en bas, quand j'ai vu Kali. Il était assis sur le rebord de la fenêtre, chantant. Quand il m'a vu, il a paniqué à nouveau. "Non, Kali," dis-je. "N'ose pas sauter." Il a sauté. Quelle pagaille ! J'ai décidé de ramener Lydia à la maison d'abord. J'ai regardé Kali par la fenêtre et il avait l'air d'aller bien. Donc, je suis rentrée chez nous. Mais, la porte a été fermée, et Alan ne pouvait pas m'entendre. Je frappais et sonnais désespérément à la porte. Mais, personne n'est pas venu.  Puis Alan descendit les escalie

Cover Image: The Annihilation of Caste by Dr. B.R. Ambedkar Crossposted from  Feminist Quill , written May 6, 2019 I do not care for the credit which every progressive society must give to its rebels. I shall be satisfied if I make the Hindus realize that they are the sick men of India and that their sickness is causing danger to the health and happiness of other Indians. It is with these words that Dr. Ambedkar begins the second edition of his famous  Annihilation of Caste,  a book that began life as a speech. For entirely unsurprising reasons that are detailed in this edition of the book, Dr. Ambedkar’s speech never actually came to be given. He was uninvited by the organization that had originally called him to speak, and he printed the speech at his own expense in the end. I say unsurprising because Dr. Ambedkar was a man far ahead of his time, and one who has made significant and extensive contributions to resolving the problem of the Indian caste system. He was also th

Photo by Duncan Sanchez on Unsplash Wings the size of the world  Golden light spilling  From eyes that see farther  Than the horizons of imagination  Divinity clothed  In an entire universe borne  Along by a silent heavy core  Marked in unmistakable humanity  The fury that thirsts  For vengeance unquenchable  Elephantine hands to dole  Out recrimination well called for  The winds around the world  Appear pleading mercy  The earth itself shakes in fear  Of tragedy too powerless to avert 

Photo by Icons8 Team on Unsplash Alleged "millennial entitlement" is just one side of a typically exploitative and shameless coin. If I was in the mood to be a boomer, I'd talk about how my generation is spoilt. So spoilt that we expect everything delivered to our doorsteps. And for banks to do their work without having to be yelled at.  But our generation is also manning those customer service centres. Our generation are also the delivery executives and bank drudges. And we're all getting paid a pittance while being severely overworked.  Many of those people are our friends and colleagues. Many of those people are us.  I contacted Swiggy customer service once after getting food poisoning from an order. The responder was, I realized, a friend of a friend -- someone I had met a couple of times. I didn't follow up on it because of the intense sense of souring that followed. What was I gonna do? Berate that guy knowing how his job is and the fact that he had nothing