Body
[slideshow_deploy id=’6158′] I remember the first time I learnt of menstruation as a ten year old. One of our friends…
The medical ward is often continuous with the world around it. One would like to think of it as an…
i want to 377 you so bad till even the sheets hurt i want to ache your knees singe your…
It’s sad that we think we own our bodies: the bodies we love, the bodies we hate, the bodies we…
In one sense, the body is what I immediately am. In another sense, I am separated from it by the…
You should venture to read Emily Nagoski’s book, Come As You Are in public. Not because you want to make…
This piece won’t write itself as an opinion piece or a review of experiences that happened or were bound to…
Kakar talks about the divide between Ayurveda and modern medicine, Freudian psychoanalysis and Indian metaphysics, and the fault lines between colonialism, religion and sexuality.
they say my body is broken they look at me with pity but little do they know when i scream…
“I was not a wanted child. Of course I am a girl, and that explains it. It’s like no one really cares if I exist. My brothers are useless, but they are everything to them(her parents). It’s not like he (her lover) needs me either; I still take food for him everyday.”
But what about the “moments we don’t Instagram”? What about the uglier parts of our physical lived realities? What about the parts of our body, our identities, our sexuality we don’t perform on social media, but are still an intrinsic part of who we are?
“Every type of body is beautiful, and more importantly every type of body is different,” says artist Veer Mishra while describing Body, his series of illustrations. This ‘difference’ is the essence of what he tries to portray through his art.
For I was a woman / Taught to chain herself gracefully / In an invisible cage.
As shocking as his request for a nude was, what confused me even more was why would he want nudes from me, a woman who hated her body? Would he appreciate these saggy breasts with their stretch marks? My ever growing thighs and my belly which has body hair on it, wouldn’t he think I’m ugly?
Fragile and fleeting like soap bubbles, pleasure shines with many colours. But its iridescence is frightening for many. Perhaps because its colours change in unpredictable and uncontrollable ways, and though fragile and fleeting, it is a world in itself