This is an excellent reply to the extremely misogynistic lyrics that not just pepper but mark the bulk of Yo Yo Honey Singh’s songs. Not only are they insensitive and derogatory to women’s issues in increasingly troubled times, but to me, is also something that rings alarm bells because of how popular his songs are. These songs with their catchy tunes are all the rage on Bollywood night and parties and even a very conscientious person could be caught swinging hips and lipsyncing like fish to words that render women worse than they are already treated in India.
KAFILA - 12 YEARS OF A COMMON JOURNEY
Just to share with Kafila readers two wonderful performances against misogyny by two cool young women, Rene Verma and Vasundhara Kaul, putting down sexism with a light touch that cuts very deep indeed – take a look at the string of comments that follow Vasundhara’s performance , from scared and threatened men unable to deal with it.
These are already ‘going viral’ as they say – just wanted to add Kafila’s contribution to viralizing them!
Here’s Rene Verma taking on Honey Singh. Unfortunately we cannot skip the compulsory advertisement for Modi and His Technicolour Dream Coat That Costs as Much as a Small Village Hospital.
(Oh, okay, the ad seems to have gone now, but that coat – that coat!! Ain’t going nowhere, to use the slang of the land of Modi’s new unilateral BFF).
Here’s an interview with Rene Verma on The Ladies Finger:
I’ve always been invested…
View original post 193 more words
Nina, proclaiming, owning, shaking free, seizing, holding aloft, declaring, breathing, flying.
Being alive, Feeling Good.
In India, certainly, we have arrived at a 1984esque world where the past sinister deeds of murderous Ministers have been conviniently forgotten for a new fabricated past, that overrules the value of lives of fellowmen for the ideal of a “development”. It is nation where the media and materialism turns the tide of the minds, casting away truth and justice for the sake of new roads and continuous electricity and unlimited water supply. This continuous electricty supply, although will illuminate houses, but will not bring light to the voices that speak of freedom. From the high rises, those living in the shadow and underbelly of the cities will not be seen, as they are trampled and discarded. One will not even know of them as truth will be hidden, morphed, disguised and soon banished. And in this bliss of ignorance, those in the highrises will continue to rise in strength, and ultimately allow the cycle of hatred to go on turning.
This is the world we must shun, call for freedom, truth, quality and social justice.
there is nothing
as blissful as
realising exactly what you want to do
in that moment
and doing exactly just that.
Otherwise it feels like a spooned piece of mango
between the tongue
and the throat.
It refuses to go down and even if it does
doesn’t leave a sweet taste behind.
Sometimes I feel like the loneliest lonely person in the world.
On a day like that, such as today too is,
I just wish someone from my old past,
the older young me who was full of hope,
would call me and ask me simply
how I am?
and tell me that they
care about me and miss me.
And yet on a day like this
I begin to loathe all forms of affection
wish to reject friendships, run away
from this place, from clusters of people
who all merge into one
and loose meaning.
All the space in the world
whirling around alone
in deep dark space
Oh beloved, stay a while!
On summer afternoons in Delhi, a dry gust of hot wind and Farida Khanum’s voice like fresh air and bliss and life.
On some nights, Eddie reminds me of who I was growing uo to be
But I am failing miserably. I hold on, I am still here,
I measure my words, I measure my love.
There are so many ‘I’s here,
just shows that I am back in square one. Society.