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Sexual Harrassment in its Various Forms (and why we need to talk about it)

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Disclaimer : This is going to be a long article. Read when you can give it ample time. If you are still asking “Why do you need feminism?” or “Why are you talking about sex, rape and such negative things?”, please read till the end, this is for you. If you think you might find comfort in relating to my experiences, read ahead. There is nothing too big in here, just everyday things women have to face, but if you think it might trigger something, please don’t read ahead. If not, read it in one go, or read it in parts, but let it sink in. Bear with me. Have conversations about this and any other experiences any of you may have had, with someone you find comfortable. (But first make sure that they have the mental energy at that time to be a good listener, especially if you are not that close. The rest, you’re the best judge of your life.) This is not a lecture or a speech. The stories that follow are events from my past. Some of these may seem inconsequential to you. But nothing that mad
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My journey from guilt to the Menstrual Cup

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Disclaimer : Not for the weak hearted. Contains words like 'blood', 'period', 'menstruation', 'tampon' and 'vagina'. Especially recommended for the narrow minded in hopes that they will be slightly more open by the end of this page. I was barely 13 when I got my first period. My mother, whom I call Amma, had already told me about it, so there was no element of shock. But that first cycle made me really weak and I was bedridden in the middle of a family tour, spoiling all our plans. I thought that my menstrual journey was going to be a disaster. But soon, I was back on my feet and we continued our sight-seeing. I have to say that I am extremely fortunate, because that was the first and the last disastrous period episode I had to go through. Even though I had a heavy flow of menstrual blood, I never experienced period cramps or weakness except for that one time.  My menstrual journey was socially very healthy. Amma did a good job of edu
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Love in the Time of Cholera – A Book Review

Considered a classic belonging to Modern Literature, Love in the Time of Cholera by Gabriel Garcia Marquez is a tale of not just love and longing, but also of life and suffering. Written in the context of the threshold between the 19 th  and 20 th  centuries in the Caribbean, when two things governed life; society and diseases, it tells an amazing story of life and death in unimaginably beautiful words. Written in the 1980s, it is refreshing to think how open-minded the narrative is. It makes you wonder if the society moved backwards since then, or if Marquez was just a man that transcended time. The story narrates many an event that would be frowned upon today, with much indifference and without judgement, as natural human behaviour. Even as he explained how the characters hid their actions from society for fear of judgement, to the reader, everything seems normal in the face of love. ‘Moral’ and ‘immoral’, here, are mere strings of letters. This book, for me, is associated with m
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The Curious Incident of the Reading Challenge

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I like reading. This is because it allows me to think of things that are not real like a 15 year old boy with behavioural difficulties travelling alone in London. But sometimes I find it difficult to read because when I read I forget to do other things and I need to do other things for school. So I started reading less. But I miss reading. This is why I decided to do the Reading With Muffy challenge. Muffy said that I should read a book about a dog in January. Muffy is a dog I 'Follow' on Instagram. So I read 'The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time' by Mark Haddon. And it made me feel like this.   It is very interesting because it is a murder mystery. It is also a story about a very brave boy who tries to overcome his fears and difficulties. I like this book because it is simple and people of any age can understand it. Mr Haddon used simple words to explain the complex mind of Christopher. He made sure that Christopher never goes 'Out Of Cha
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നോട്ട്ർ ഡാം ഡെ പാരിസ് - The Hunchback of Notre Dame - A book review (Malayalam)

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ഈ അടുത്ത കാലത്തൊന്നും മനസ്സിനെ ഇത്രയും ആട്ടിയുലച്ച ഒരു സംഭവം ഉണ്ടായിട്ടില്ല! അഗ്നിയെ എനിക്കെന്നും ഭയവും ബഹുമാനവും ആണ്. ഇന്നൊരിക്കൽ കൂടി അഗ്നി കാണിച്ചു തന്നിരിക്കുന്നു, എല്ലാം ക്ഷണികം. എല്ലാം പ്രകൃതിയുടെ വികൃതി; അതോ മനുഷ്യന്റെയോ? നോട്ട്ർ ഡാം. അവളെന്റെ കൂട്ടുകാരി ആണ്. തമ്മില്‍ കാണാതെയും സംസാരിക്കാതെയും ഉറ്റ ചങ്ങാതിമാര്‍ ആയിരിക്കുന്ന സുഹൃത്തുക്കള്‍ ഇല്ലേ? അത് പോലൊരു സൗഹൃദം. 'ആണ്' എന്നു പറയാന്‍ കാര്യം.. നേരില്‍ കണ്ടിട്ടില്ലാത്ത എനിക്ക് അവൾ അന്നും, ഇന്നും, എന്നും ഒരുപോലെയാണ്. ശിരസ്സിലെ മകുടം ഇന്ന് ഇല്ലെങ്കിലും ഞാൻ അത് കണക്കാക്കുന്നില്ല. എന്തെന്നാല്‍, എന്റെ മനസ്സില്‍ ആരോ വരച്ചിട്ടിരിക്കുന്ന രേഖാചിത്രത്തിൽ അവള്‍ക്ക് എന്നും ഒരു രൂപമാണ്. അതേ സുന്ദരമായ രൂപം. ഒരിക്കലും കണ്ടിട്ടില്ലെങ്കിലും അറിയാം എനിക്കവളെ. കുട്ടിക്കാലത്ത് അച്ഛൻ പറഞ്ഞ് തന്ന ഹഞ്ച്ബാക്കി൯റ്റെ കഥയിലൂടെയും, പിന്നീട്‌ കോളേജിൽ ഹിസ്റ്ററി ഓഫ് ആർകിടെക്ച്ചർ പ്രൊഫസർ കാണിച്ചു തന്ന അദ്ഭുതകരമായ ദൃശ്യങ്ങളിലൂടെയും, ഹ്യൂഗോയുടെ വാക്കുകളുടെ എന്നോ വായ്ച്ച അബറിട്ജ്ട് ട്രാൻസലേഷണിലൂടെയും, ക്വാസിമോടോയുടെ പ്രണയത്തിലൂടെയും, എസമെരാൾഡയുടെ ലാസ
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Balance

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The most difficult thing in life is to get that perfect balance - of work and leisure, of boredom and fun, of purpose and laziness, of extraversion and introversion, of personal needs and social calls, of selflessness and selfishness, of good and bad, of black and white, and so on. No, this is isn't a random unrelated quote. I am just penning down the thoughts I had while I drew this. The most important and frequent problem I encounter while drawing, is my fear of blank spaces. I try to fill the space with patterns, and leave no void, black or white. I fear that voids might make my art incomplete, and I sub-consciously fill up all the voids with intricate patterns. Intricacy is my "thing", after all! It took me quite a while to understand that by creating so much clutter, I am depriving my art of its depth, and hence, a life, or a soul. Too flat, one could say, in simpler terms. My fear of voids could very well be connected to a fear of emptiness at a high
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The newly crowned Queen

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Just sharing a drawing I did an year or two back, and a few words that explain the idea behind the drawing.. She ran her eyes across her new chamber, taking in its magnificence. The layers of fabric seemed as heavy as her heart.  Clutching her unfamiliarly heavy robes, she looked at herself in the mirror one last time, gathering up courage to face the crowd. Determined, she turned away and lifted her hands to the fine layer of cloth that separated the comfort of her chamber from the outside world. The fabric felt soft between her fingers. Slowly parting the curtains, she took her first step outside. Head held high, she smiled at the people. They cried, “All hail our newly crowned Queen!!”
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