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Saga of a "Black" Doll

In the corner of a house black doll share the space  with the heap of dust and thousands of mice.
Her pink chiffon dress has blackened and  her curly hair bear the sign of a complete mess.
When it was bought anew, it used to be everyone's favorite and the girl had shared it with a few. 
But with the passing time, it lost its glaze and  the charming craze about this also drowned in haze.
Today, the long negligence only gave  the dull skin, ugly looks and  the curly hair entangled in cobweb.
It seems a hint of racism always  prevails in mankind. Otherwise, fairer dolls could never replace the doll from the girl's mind.

Gau(MATA)s of My Country

Gau politics is enjoying special limelight now-a-days. A clan has taken the duty to apotheosis this matter damn seriously. Other factions are not getting tired of loathing such nonsense (according to them) this. By the way our "North Blockadhishwars"  have chosen to stand with the first team. 

Few days ago a news of acid attacks on fifteen cows and oxen from Karmana village in Uttar Pradesh  (India) has spoken volume of the vulnerabilities of this four-legged-two-horned species. The pictures of those suffering animals were so disturbing that the media chose not to share it in their news column. The shaking truth comes out from the villagers information on that issue. That says the unproductive and abandoned (by the owner) were the main target of this heinous crime. 

 Is this situation has any similarity with the present condition of women in our society? The "abandoned" word also get used easily for the women staying in legal separation from their husbands (in old di…

A Winsome Rhapsody

Why should I give them that bit of share? Mom, here I am. Standing high among them. One-day, I used to be the cause of their shame. Now, they just want a little share of my fame.
But why should I give them that bit of share? My grief and pain were hard to tame;  when they used to laugh at me for my dark skin and healthy body frame.  That time, it was their nasty, favorite game.
My soul and personality is still the same. Self-reliance and self-confidence are the two things, that have suddenly turned me into a gem. 

A Story of a "HEARTLESS" Lady

She cursed her life, she cursed herself. Will they ever love her wholeheartedly? For being a girl-child she was never welcomed her family 
She cursed her life, she cursed herself. In her childhood, she was always considered inferior; her future, talent, education everything were the part of some bad humor. 
She cursed her life, she cursed herself. She her mates are being cuddled and loved. A lump of grief and hollowness passes through her throat.
She cursed her life, she cursed herself. She looked for a caring one who can heel all her pain. She left shuttered finding her wish is going in vain.
She cursed her life, she cursed herself. Today, she has successfully become a heartless and the social dogmatism has fallen on its face. 

Theory of "Survival of Weaker Clan"

A cold flow run down my spine, when I Step out of my office and it is already nine.
A girl in my locality who has faced the brutality, was simple enough. From this, I should know the scene for me is really very tough. 
This is what an actual problem with a girl like me who has vowed not to accept the "theory  of weaker clan", that are we. 
We thrive harder to prove our equality. Which simply increase our popularity, among the moral gurus of our locality.  Finally, it fans their wish to spread austerity.
We get chased, messed up and dumped by them. Sometimes, we also get murdered to scrap our claim. Again, we resurrect to erase the blame.  That time scenes become harder to them.  Because they thought as it is a lioness it is easier to tame.

An Ode to a Gruesome Society

Scene 1
She was struggling with her dresses and dignity when a lunatic one driven by cruel libido, was trying to destroy her sanctity. The members of her clan in that vicinity  choose to keep mum  as they thought it was just because of her fashion priority.
Scene 2
A lady, who choose to balance between family and work,  was stopped from doing so by a libidinous jerk. No one cared to stand by her,  in the fear of facing lethal attack. Scene 3
In a misty morning , a cold body of a whore,  was lied on street's pitch floor. Scars were proving clear it was because of lust But, each one there were vowed to accuse her past.
Scene 4
The streets and landmarks are tired of candle vigil. Such grotesque things have nothing to do in this raw deal. Self-confidence has only the power to heal as we have adopted by-standing during violence as a lifestyle skill.

Emergence of an Anachronism

As a ninety kid I can clearly remember that I was a sincere reader of my Bengali textbook "Kisholoy" throughout my primary school days. Many "poor fellow" (as some sophisticated and cultured people used to tag us) like me can easily remember the bewitching impact of "Baburam Sanpure", "Muniram Munshi" and the lobsters and crabs dwelling in "Pakrashi der kankra doba" in their  childhood days. Crazy activity and thoughts of those characters used to make our days more joyous. In those fine days many of us faced various kinds of verbal attacks from our "so called sophisticated" members of society. They used to accuse us of being attracted towards bad culture and social backwardness as well, just for being a student of those vernacular medium free primary schools. They cannot but be surprised after knowing about our lunatic craze for "Gupi Gain Bagha Bain", "Gopal Bhar" and "Abdul Majhi" instead of &q…