Friday, February 13, 2009
Kula was a big hit.We had elections on 12th ...so obviously we have a new union now .There is Mehzabeen for the president's post, Sunaina handling the secretary's post and Godavari for the treasurer's post. This time the elections were held with a true democratic spirit,there were three contestant contesting for each post.Voters turned out in good numbers and several queries regarding the agendas were put to rest. So we wish the new union luck to carry forward the socio deparment to its zenith.
Thursday, February 5, 2009
KKKKKUUla!!!!!
okie guys,
KULA is back its on 6th of February, thats Friday.It's going to be loads of fun. This years theme is Masculinity. Today we had ma'am Radhika Chopra from D-school talking to us on the same topic in the lower Seminar room. She spoke about complete and incomplete masculinity, men in domestic space, men and beauty care. Hierarchy, domination, violence and lots more.
Tomorow we are going to have Paper presentation, Dumb Charades, JAM session, good food served from the cafe, many prizes to win and many friends to make........so Happy KULA to all....!!!!
KULA is back its on 6th of February, thats Friday.It's going to be loads of fun. This years theme is Masculinity. Today we had ma'am Radhika Chopra from D-school talking to us on the same topic in the lower Seminar room. She spoke about complete and incomplete masculinity, men in domestic space, men and beauty care. Hierarchy, domination, violence and lots more.
Tomorow we are going to have Paper presentation, Dumb Charades, JAM session, good food served from the cafe, many prizes to win and many friends to make........so Happy KULA to all....!!!!
Monday, February 2, 2009
DID SOMEONE SAY......FEST!!!!!
KULA is here, KULA is here, ......YEYEYE KULA is here ...it brings back all old memories of an excellent KULA fest which we had last year when Namrata was the president.We are keeping our fingers crossed, and hoping for the best KULA again.
Well you wanna know what KULA as a word actually means then please google it ...and learn more about it .Otherwise borrow 2nd years economic sociology book ......we shall tell you more about KULA only on 5th of Feb ....thats just a day before KULA,Feb 6th, till then we want you guys to keep reading our blog.
Well you wanna know what KULA as a word actually means then please google it ...and learn more about it .Otherwise borrow 2nd years economic sociology book ......we shall tell you more about KULA only on 5th of Feb ....thats just a day before KULA,Feb 6th, till then we want you guys to keep reading our blog.
Slumdog,piecrce brosnan and more.........
yo,
We were quite bored with the usual economic sociology lectures, having just finished with exchange and money and just at the threshold of Poverty and Development, there ensued a wonderful disscusion on most popularly read books, favourite actors and actresses(i know the words not in dictionary).It started off as we disscussed about the "SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE" movie for which the third years are going along with Bhavna ma'am. Abhisekh Bachan was brought under the close scrutiny of our class and ended with bad critics from Bhavna ma'am(that disheartened few diehard fans of him in class).Preity Zinta was our favourite too, not just the cutelooks but all her brains has won her our favours. Asin was acclaimed too for her spontaneous acting in "Ghazni".Well hollywood wasnt far away as ma'am proclaimed Pierce Brosnan as her favourite actor. Then the entire class went like ...oooohhhhhhhh. But me(Jenny) and Kookie(kaushiki) decided that the best we liked were George Clooney, Hugh Jackman.
We did discuss about the books but it stopped quite early with a small M&B story, no... not some romantic story, its about how when Bhavna ma'am was doing her grads the M&Bs costed just 2rs...can you believe that , then she told us how she would buy 30 M&Bs together so that she can read them all in her free time.
Well with that ended our free time also ...back to routine .. Poverty and Development here we come again ......\m/\m/(word life)
We were quite bored with the usual economic sociology lectures, having just finished with exchange and money and just at the threshold of Poverty and Development, there ensued a wonderful disscusion on most popularly read books, favourite actors and actresses(i know the words not in dictionary).It started off as we disscussed about the "SLUMDOG MILLIONAIRE" movie for which the third years are going along with Bhavna ma'am. Abhisekh Bachan was brought under the close scrutiny of our class and ended with bad critics from Bhavna ma'am(that disheartened few diehard fans of him in class).Preity Zinta was our favourite too, not just the cutelooks but all her brains has won her our favours. Asin was acclaimed too for her spontaneous acting in "Ghazni".Well hollywood wasnt far away as ma'am proclaimed Pierce Brosnan as her favourite actor. Then the entire class went like ...oooohhhhhhhh. But me(Jenny) and Kookie(kaushiki) decided that the best we liked were George Clooney, Hugh Jackman.
We did discuss about the books but it stopped quite early with a small M&B story, no... not some romantic story, its about how when Bhavna ma'am was doing her grads the M&Bs costed just 2rs...can you believe that , then she told us how she would buy 30 M&Bs together so that she can read them all in her free time.
Well with that ended our free time also ...back to routine .. Poverty and Development here we come again ......\m/\m/(word life)
Being a girl
Being a girl
Born under some unlucky stars
she comes into this world
which is more like a market
And she? a commodity showcased!
Patriarchial society stares at her every moment
whichever angle...however they wish to...
No they don't care what's her wish,her consent,
she's just to be watched and enjoyed.....
They turn her,twist her....check her upside down
she feels suffocated,ill treated but...
her hands are bound...the PATRIARCHY'S CHOICE!
She can't scream,neither question..
her mouth sealed by norms
All she can wear is the society's rules,
the family's honour.....not clothes of freedom!
She's supossed to smile,not laugh!
She is permitted to walk not jump in joys..
She's burdened with the role of being a woman.
(All she's taught is not to be 'what a man is')
She's destined to marry,
a destiny written down by society.
She gives birth...she gives life,
but who remembers the pain she bears for it?
She becomes a mother, a daughter and...
a wife...
Everyday in the market called "world"
she is scrutinized.
They check thoroughly through her,
watch her every move
to point out any slightest flaw.
She's supposed to be a showpiece afterall...
a "thing" to be watched and enjoyed.
Trapped in the web of of social roles
and the expectations attached to them,
she takes her last breath under a cloud...
of burdens,worries and oblivion
No one bothers.....another "she" will emerge
to be showcased!! but....
will anyone be ever treated as a human??
what is her fault??....just tht she's born a "girl"?
she comes into this world
which is more like a market
And she? a commodity showcased!
Patriarchial society stares at her every moment
whichever angle...however they wish to...
No they don't care what's her wish,her consent,
she's just to be watched and enjoyed.....
They turn her,twist her....check her upside down
she feels suffocated,ill treated but...
her hands are bound...the PATRIARCHY'S CHOICE!
She can't scream,neither question..
her mouth sealed by norms
All she can wear is the society's rules,
the family's honour.....not clothes of freedom!
She's supossed to smile,not laugh!
She is permitted to walk not jump in joys..
She's burdened with the role of being a woman.
(All she's taught is not to be 'what a man is')
She's destined to marry,
a destiny written down by society.
She gives birth...she gives life,
but who remembers the pain she bears for it?
She becomes a mother, a daughter and...
a wife...
Everyday in the market called "world"
she is scrutinized.
They check thoroughly through her,
watch her every move
to point out any slightest flaw.
She's supposed to be a showpiece afterall...
a "thing" to be watched and enjoyed.
Trapped in the web of of social roles
and the expectations attached to them,
she takes her last breath under a cloud...
of burdens,worries and oblivion
No one bothers.....another "she" will emerge
to be showcased!! but....
will anyone be ever treated as a human??
what is her fault??....just tht she's born a "girl"?
Born under some unlucky stars
she comes into this world
which is more like a market
And she? a commodity showcased!
Patriarchial society stares at her every moment
whichever angle...however they wish to...
No they don't care what's her wish,her consent,
she's just to be watched and enjoyed.....
They turn her,twist her....check her upside down
she feels suffocated,ill treated but...
her hands are bound...the PATRIARCHY'S CHOICE!
She can't scream,neither question..
her mouth sealed by norms
All she can wear is the society's rules,
the family's honour.....not clothes of freedom!
She's supossed to smile,not laugh!
She is permitted to walk not jump in joys..
She's burdened with the role of being a woman.
(All she's taught is not to be 'what a man is')
She's destined to marry,
a destiny written down by society.
She gives birth...she gives life,
but who remembers the pain she bears for it?
She becomes a mother, a daughter and...
a wife...
Everyday in the market called "world"
she is scrutinized.
They check thoroughly through her,
watch her every move
to point out any slightest flaw.
She's supposed to be a showpiece afterall...
a "thing" to be watched and enjoyed.
Trapped in the web of of social roles
and the expectations attached to them,
she takes her last breath under a cloud...
of burdens,worries and oblivion
No one bothers.....another "she" will emerge
to be showcased!! but....
will anyone be ever treated as a human??
what is her fault??....just tht she's born a "girl"?
she comes into this world
which is more like a market
And she? a commodity showcased!
Patriarchial society stares at her every moment
whichever angle...however they wish to...
No they don't care what's her wish,her consent,
she's just to be watched and enjoyed.....
They turn her,twist her....check her upside down
she feels suffocated,ill treated but...
her hands are bound...the PATRIARCHY'S CHOICE!
She can't scream,neither question..
her mouth sealed by norms
All she can wear is the society's rules,
the family's honour.....not clothes of freedom!
She's supossed to smile,not laugh!
She is permitted to walk not jump in joys..
She's burdened with the role of being a woman.
(All she's taught is not to be 'what a man is')
She's destined to marry,
a destiny written down by society.
She gives birth...she gives life,
but who remembers the pain she bears for it?
She becomes a mother, a daughter and...
a wife...
Everyday in the market called "world"
she is scrutinized.
They check thoroughly through her,
watch her every move
to point out any slightest flaw.
She's supposed to be a showpiece afterall...
a "thing" to be watched and enjoyed.
Trapped in the web of of social roles
and the expectations attached to them,
she takes her last breath under a cloud...
of burdens,worries and oblivion
No one bothers.....another "she" will emerge
to be showcased!! but....
will anyone be ever treated as a human??
what is her fault??....just tht she's born a "girl"?
-SABIHA MAZID
1st YEAR, Sociology(H)
1st YEAR, Sociology(H)
A STORY TO SHARE….A TALE TO TELL…
NOTE- This piece won the first prize in Creative Writing Competition --“WHATS YOUR STORY?” At The Sociology Fest- 2008, Shri Venkateshwara College, New Delhi.
Hi! I am Annamika Choudhury. Ann amika-nameless, someone who cannot be named. I am so much like you yet I am different. I am one of you yet I am no one. I am an orphan. I have been dumped, separated and torn apart from the society. Still somehow I am an inseparable part of it. My parents decided to abandon me much before the society did, right at the moment the doctor had snipped my umbilical cord. Are you interested to know my story and what makes me so different? No, you wouldn’t want to know. You would despise me when you will know of my identity.
I prefer to call myself a human being-a person who bleeds when hurt and who smiles when happy. I am just like anybody. Yet, I am different. I stand in the face of society but it pretends that I don’t exist, as if I am invisible. When I try to make my presence felt, the society looks down upon me in disgust. There is nothing wrong with me. It’s just that I am different. Difference does not mean wrong, does it? When I see children playing I feel a sense of motherliness towards them. I want to adopt a child. I want to raise a child and give her a good life. But no, I won’t be allowed. In a democracy like India, where everyone has the right to speak one’s mind, my voice is throttled; where giving dignity to human life is an ethos, I am left out. I am a citizen of this nation but I am denied many a rights which you my friend, so easily avail. Why? Because I am different. I am expected to choose to be on either side when all I really want is to be who I am –‘me’. I stand right in front of you but you look past me. Why? Because it makes ‘you’ uncomfortable. So, don’t you think the problem lies with you and not really with ‘me’? I am mocked for the way I am. But the way I am is because of who I am. I am born out of the ‘normal’ people like you. And that is also a part of my individuality. To you, I am the most inferior creature on earth. Yet, let me tell you I am human. My lips have been sealed with the glue of the norms and codes by the society. I wear a mask of indignation and indifference. But I am no indifferent to what you are doing to me. I face, I feel and I break down. Tears do flow down my cheeks. I am a Eunuch. ‘Hijra’-Is this the word that is ringing inside your head now? Does it make it turn your back at me? Are you going to continue hearing out my story? I suppose not. Because you will say you have suddenly remembered some important tasks to attend. To you I am of no significance. My dear friend, you will go from here and speak about many things, burning topics of the politicians, the episodes of the Saas Bahu soaps you missed, and even the ‘kaamwali bai’ who does not come to work regularly. And how can you not discuss the extra-marital affair of Mr. Ram with Mrs. Shyam? It has to be discussed, isn’t it? But you will not talk about me. Maybe it is because it makes you uncomfortable. And I understand. I am human after all.
Now that I see you turning your back against me, I am curious about the expression your face is wearing-an expression I cannot see. But my dear friend, as a token of adieu I just want you to know, that now that you have heard me, please do not pretend that we do not exist. And the next time you see someone like me, please do not just walk past me because, like me, everyone has a story to share, a tale to tell-of pain, joy, betrayal, domination and everything that makes the paradox of life.
Let us not be the mockery on the face of humanity. Throw away the mask of denial. After all, you are human too; you will understand only if you just want to understand.
BY:
MEHZABEEN HUSSAIN
IInd YEAR, SOCIOLOGY (HONS).
Hi! I am Annamika Choudhury. Ann amika-nameless, someone who cannot be named. I am so much like you yet I am different. I am one of you yet I am no one. I am an orphan. I have been dumped, separated and torn apart from the society. Still somehow I am an inseparable part of it. My parents decided to abandon me much before the society did, right at the moment the doctor had snipped my umbilical cord. Are you interested to know my story and what makes me so different? No, you wouldn’t want to know. You would despise me when you will know of my identity.
I prefer to call myself a human being-a person who bleeds when hurt and who smiles when happy. I am just like anybody. Yet, I am different. I stand in the face of society but it pretends that I don’t exist, as if I am invisible. When I try to make my presence felt, the society looks down upon me in disgust. There is nothing wrong with me. It’s just that I am different. Difference does not mean wrong, does it? When I see children playing I feel a sense of motherliness towards them. I want to adopt a child. I want to raise a child and give her a good life. But no, I won’t be allowed. In a democracy like India, where everyone has the right to speak one’s mind, my voice is throttled; where giving dignity to human life is an ethos, I am left out. I am a citizen of this nation but I am denied many a rights which you my friend, so easily avail. Why? Because I am different. I am expected to choose to be on either side when all I really want is to be who I am –‘me’. I stand right in front of you but you look past me. Why? Because it makes ‘you’ uncomfortable. So, don’t you think the problem lies with you and not really with ‘me’? I am mocked for the way I am. But the way I am is because of who I am. I am born out of the ‘normal’ people like you. And that is also a part of my individuality. To you, I am the most inferior creature on earth. Yet, let me tell you I am human. My lips have been sealed with the glue of the norms and codes by the society. I wear a mask of indignation and indifference. But I am no indifferent to what you are doing to me. I face, I feel and I break down. Tears do flow down my cheeks. I am a Eunuch. ‘Hijra’-Is this the word that is ringing inside your head now? Does it make it turn your back at me? Are you going to continue hearing out my story? I suppose not. Because you will say you have suddenly remembered some important tasks to attend. To you I am of no significance. My dear friend, you will go from here and speak about many things, burning topics of the politicians, the episodes of the Saas Bahu soaps you missed, and even the ‘kaamwali bai’ who does not come to work regularly. And how can you not discuss the extra-marital affair of Mr. Ram with Mrs. Shyam? It has to be discussed, isn’t it? But you will not talk about me. Maybe it is because it makes you uncomfortable. And I understand. I am human after all.
Now that I see you turning your back against me, I am curious about the expression your face is wearing-an expression I cannot see. But my dear friend, as a token of adieu I just want you to know, that now that you have heard me, please do not pretend that we do not exist. And the next time you see someone like me, please do not just walk past me because, like me, everyone has a story to share, a tale to tell-of pain, joy, betrayal, domination and everything that makes the paradox of life.
Let us not be the mockery on the face of humanity. Throw away the mask of denial. After all, you are human too; you will understand only if you just want to understand.
BY:
MEHZABEEN HUSSAIN
IInd YEAR, SOCIOLOGY (HONS).
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