mere anarchy is loosed upon the world

it is becoming more and more difficult to maintain any kind of inclusive practice in the politics of our state. the breach is in your face and every sphere of public life is split, down the middle and wide,wide open. i thought i was indifferent about politics, i thought two people could be friends/lovers/cousins regardless of their political allegiences, it is becoming increasingly difficult in the wake of the atrocities perpetrated by the ruling party in nandigram, suddenly all those forgotten, buried incidents come rushing back- anandamaargis, baantala. maarichjhnaapi...names, of places, of people, of horror.all i can manage to do is swallow my scream,hold it in. i must be going mad. or else the world is turning into a phantasmagoria of evil dreams. i open the newspaper and i see the picture of a young girl tearing down the the streets, stark naked, and a guy behind her taking pictures on his cell phone camera. i feel like throwing up. i feel like physically mutilating that guy, actually gouging out his eyes,tearing out his fingernails, castrating him.i feel not shame but hatred. such utter,blinding,searing,foul hatred that i want to cease existing. but it is not the first time...every other week there is a little paragraph hidden away in some obscure page about dalit women who have been stripped and paraded by policemen/panchayet men/de facto zamindars....nobody takes pictures,so they dont make it to the front page. every time we walk the streets in protest they throw us a question with the casual nonchalance of a victor "what choices do you have?to this raping, killing,exploiting regime?"...everytime we are effectively silenced. it is shit scary when the only alternative to tyranny is anarchy. i think its woolf who said sometimes in order to breathe you need to break the window open.....

incoherence

i did a strange thing today. i stretched myself on the , shiny emerald green floor and felt the metallic -cold of the cement against my palms ,my cheeks, my shorts-clad bare legs, i felt the warmth of blood seep in, i put my ear against it and heard the throbbing of four generations of hearts, i heard the far away din of 72 long years of laughter,conversations, fights and weepings, i saw fleeting glimpses of births, deaths, marriages, funerals, jhulons, saraswati pujos...i whispered to my house and it whispered back, and then i kissed the floor and asked for its forgiveness, for i am powerless to stop what is going to happen to my home...i feel like a hypocritical,two-faced,lying,conniving,snivelling,spineless bitch...four poster beds look incongruous in cramped,two roomed, low ceilinged flats....i am sorry,i am sorry...

dhur sala...

three friggin term papers to submit. three days to go. and i am blogging...globbing...how does it matter anyway?stupid bitch of a librarian keeps fining me 20 bucks for books which were in tatters since 1969...i come back from two back to back trips and i sit down with chaucer!!and i recently discovered that i am not just the laziest and most indolent bum alive, but i am also a moron par excellence. i will flunk, or worse get average marks, and i will never ever get a job. in which case my boyfriend will dump me and my parents will disown me.(my nearest and dearest ones are guided solely by vested interests in their dealings with me),there...now i have become completely schizophrenic...reading a certain blog for too long takes its toll on one...where was i?oh, the complete failure that is doyeeta's life...yes, so i will never get a job..because i suck at everything...seldom have i met someone who is as singularly untalented as i am...i suck at sports, singing, dancing, painting, cooking, and pottery and skydiving and playing the banjo.(i can, however, roll joints of hash and marijuana,or both together!). i am also rude, foul mouthed and bitchy. my value in the marriage market would be lesser than mamata banerjee's. so, since i will never get a job, and will be disinherited and dumped unceremoniously on my bony ass, maybe i will offer tuitions to people even more dimwitted or merely misled. and when i am thirty seven and still skinny, maybe i will marry a fifty yr old, five feet three, widower, with a paunch, a bald pate and three pesky kids. or even better, die a virgin. there. thats my life for you. oh god!! this is so pathetic....