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Tuesday, March 31, 2015

My Choice. My Choic. My Choi..... My Chai....

Feel lost?

Well another of those bread and butter videos without any feel to it. In the matter of feminism or #Empowerment as they would mean, Kalki's video was better than the rest! Come on. You cannot keep boxing in the feminism. Its about individualism and freedom that is in question and if Ms. Padukone and her team in Vogue were to emphasize on the lame statements made by "heroes" of the nation about Women etiquette in dressing, timing, kissing and snoring; those heroes have been trolled a million of times and I guess they even cease to exist to comment on those at the time!

The Vogue initiative to me seems very Vague and I may face the hot iron the face of the Rock Solid Feminist Face; but to me, the truth is feminism is all about respect. If you want to work for it just show it in the right sense. Yes, I liked the starting like my body, my soul... and ending may be somewhere, the Universe; but to the mass who worship Ganga as Mother and sit down to piss on her face; these bread and butter, cake and champagne videos mean nothing! If you need to change, work forward to remove the most approved education system. Introduce steps, so that the school starts on teaching about sex and good practice without shame. Then will the Babloo respect Chameli, sitting beside him!

Feminism is a thought. It cannot be shown. It can be felt.

And if you need any "choice" video, I guess you can see this. Its  better.

Till then...

Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Notes of The Owl

For the past several days it has been going on. Indecisive feelings, cutting chai... minutes turned into hours. Then somewhere deep down within, voices tried to burst open the flood gates; onlu to fail. Men dont cry, says the Angel.

I walk through the gates of Sealdah station. Trying to board the train and jump in for a seat. 4 in a crampy 3 seater. Like every common man its an adjustment that you always make, with a smile. Even though you have your bystanders sweat driping over your head, feet and sometimes... better leave that.

Today, something different happened. Something worthy enough to pull me out of the isolated quilt in the world of blogspot and start tapping on the keys. A man. Aged somewhere 45-55, boarded the Sealdah Sonarpur local. 10:55am. The train started. This gentleman was kind enough to make way so that I may seat. #Reason. I had a bad ankle, twisted.

I asked him not to, but he said. You are like my son. How can I see my child stand in pain? It was awkward to see this gesture. I sat down.

The train started and he smiled at me.  He felt that I was feeling uncomfortable to see him stand. He smiled back to soothe my restlessness. Not long, but Ballygunge came. It seemed to be his destination. Before boarding off, he smiled back. Then he said... "আমারও ছেলে থাকলে এরকমই করত। "
I felt different. Before I could ask any question, the train docked. One question still buzz me. Why if (in past tense). Why if?

Somnath Paul Photography


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