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  • Latest Stories

"If ,one day... Someone came to your life and told You that, you are a doll, Cute like a doll..or you are pretty like a doll... My dear ladies..... Don't think or don't believe that..your existence matters to that person.. Yes dolls are cute and lovely.. But they are used for playing..people play with them...broke them and throw them... So my dear Ladies Do you wanted to be a doll???? Think about it.. Be a women be a fighter.. Not a pretty doll ,whom any one can play,any one can use and any one can throw ."

If ,one day...
Someone came to your life and told 
You that, you are a doll,
Cute like a doll..or you are pretty like a doll...
My dear ladies.....
Don't think or don't believe that..your existence matters to that person..
Yes dolls are cute and lovely..
But they are used for playing..people play with them...broke them and throw them...

So my dear Ladies
Do you wanted to be a doll????

Think about it..

Be a women be a fighter..
Not a pretty doll ,whom any one can play,any one can use and any one can throw .

 

139 Love
7 Share

#Annabelle #Reviews
Annabelle is an American Supernatural Horror Film released in 2014. I've had an opportunity to watch it back then, along with two of my friends, both of them were quite convinced that the movie would give them goosebumps and send chills through their spine. The first half of the movie or rather the first 40-45 minutes failed to leave an impact as whenever the doll used to pop up, the audience's laughter could be heard instead of screams. But after the initial failure of camaraderie, the movie rolled its sleeves up and a child began to show signs of the doll affecting his body and mind. The sketches that were drawn by the child as a mark of the future happenings with lady and her baby girl were enough to grab everyone's eyeballs and bring them the accounted experience of supernatural. A proof of which was given to me by my friends who successfully transported me from the corner seat to the middle one so, that each could grab an arm of mine whenever Annabelle would show up to stupefy them out of terror. The movie at the end, sent a strong message of the power of love , how love can surpass all the negativity of the world, especially the selfless love of a mother. How it becomes a shield for the child, for her family which drives even the biggest of the devils away. Also, was portrayed the true selfless love of an elderly lady, who had lost her daughter to an accident, plagiarized with the plight of the young mother and sacrificed her soul instead. The movie left most of us with a thought of what the devil is gonna do next with her soul and if the doll's ever gonna return... From my side, a decent watch and worth the time.

11 Love

100APC#6: Doll Bot

I was searching for subject matter, so I remembered my old art classes that taught me when I was at a loss for something to draw, I should draw what's around me.

So I took one of my niece's dolls, who she had stripped down to the bare plastic, and my copy of Don Quixote and positioned them like so in front of me. By the end I got inspired to create the Doll Bot taking a smoke break.

Never use, "I am not inspired," as an excuse not to create art. Sometimes this method is a great means to find inspiration. Another great tool in the tool box.

Enjoy your day.

Thanks for reading.

8 Love

"Guide to a good girl.  1- When I was 5, my maa handed me over the barbie dolls and kitchen sets to play with,  My fascination for hotwheels and beyblades, building blocks and video games, action figures and lazer rifles, to my maa and papa was more or less a cosmological myth. My parents could not digest my leisure time being spent in company of boys and their masculine toys, and as the consequence,  I was made to sit in a room all day, with a stuffed doll and few make up sets in defence. I wanted to run away, from the holes of that dungeon tied to the invisible shackles, as quick as the squirrel,  But i couldn't, i was the good girl. 2- When I was 13, a muscular and stiff man with dense beard and frowned eye brows, animalistic gazes and mysterious intentions,  Reaches out for newly formed budding breasts, and inserts his fingers piercing into my vagina  Leaving no unexplored canyons. He played with me like I was the barbie doll, But I thought cricket and kabbadi were his call. He bruised me like I was the GTA or NFS car, But those red scars, to him were merely victory avatars. I wanted "my brother" to stop, to not gift me this disgust and pain as the rewards of my Rakhies, unable to unfurl,  But i couldn't, I was the good girl. 3- I'm 21 now, and I have few advices for the women of my age, or younger or elder. 1, Do not show cleavage or thighs or shoulders or neck or legs or even your face, For the length of your fabric can even get you raped, just like an 18month infant or an 80 year old lady, following your disgrace. 2, Do not talk to male friends or fall in love with men or buy condoms or go home late, For you can destruct your hormones on pills, or get acid attacked on refusals or get killed in the name of kinship dignity to dilate. Do not smoke or drink or go clubbing,  Do not laugh out loud in public  Do not raise voices against violence by men Do not wait for thirties to get married  Do not disrespect or disobey relatives or in-law Do not break the tradition of indian culture  Do not deny favours to your male bosses Do not abuse in filthy languages and slangs  Do not dream about sexual pleasures and female orgasms Do not rant about education and career and women empowerment  Do not use words like vagina or menstruation or masturbation or male chauvinism  Do not object at being called a characterless or a bitch or a slut or a prostitute or a mistress  Do not utter a word at being touched in several areas of your worshipped and sacred body by a boy, or a man or an uncle.  Do not enclose your identity preserved carefully under the sheathe,  Do not breathe. I am the woman who was  Molested and assaulted,  Gaped and raped,  Smacked and acid attacked,  Objectified and sanctified,  Beaten and auctioned,  Born and died right after  My silenced screams, bruised scars, crushed down soul, ripped apart, are the evidence of my body being handed over in hands of patriarchy, as they conquer. Listen, please follow these rules  However I couldn't,  I shouted and yelled,  I opposed and protested,  I screamed and hurled,  I am, now, the bad girl.  "

Guide to a good girl. 
1- When I was 5, my maa handed me over the barbie dolls and kitchen sets to play with, 
My fascination for hotwheels and beyblades, building blocks and video games, action figures and lazer rifles, to my maa and papa was more or less a cosmological myth.

My parents could not digest my leisure time being spent in company of boys and their masculine toys, and as the consequence, 
I was made to sit in a room all day, with a stuffed doll and few make up sets in defence.

I wanted to run away, from the holes of that dungeon tied to the invisible shackles, as quick as the squirrel, 
But i couldn't, i was the good girl.

2- When I was 13, a muscular and stiff man with dense beard and frowned eye brows, animalistic gazes and mysterious intentions, 
Reaches out for newly formed budding breasts, and inserts his fingers piercing into my vagina 
Leaving no unexplored canyons.

He played with me like I was the barbie doll,
But I thought cricket and kabbadi were his call.
He bruised me like I was the GTA or NFS car,
But those red scars, to him were merely victory avatars.

I wanted "my brother" to stop, to not gift me this disgust and pain as the rewards of my Rakhies, unable to unfurl, 
But i couldn't, I was the good girl.

3- I'm 21 now, and I have few advices for the women of my age, or younger or elder.
1, Do not show cleavage or thighs or shoulders or neck or legs or even your face,
For the length of your fabric can even get you raped, just like an 18month infant or an 80 year old lady, following your disgrace.

2, Do not talk to male friends or fall in love with men or buy condoms or go home late,
For you can destruct your hormones on pills, or get acid attacked on refusals or get killed in the name of kinship dignity to dilate.

Do not smoke or drink or go clubbing, 
Do not laugh out loud in public 
Do not raise voices against violence by men
Do not wait for thirties to get married 
Do not disrespect or disobey relatives or in-law
Do not break the tradition of indian culture 
Do not deny favours to your male bosses
Do not abuse in filthy languages and slangs 
Do not dream about sexual pleasures and female orgasms
Do not rant about education and career and women empowerment 
Do not use words like vagina or menstruation or masturbation or male chauvinism 
Do not object at being called a characterless or a bitch or a slut or a prostitute or a mistress 
Do not utter a word at being touched in several areas of your worshipped and sacred body by a boy, or a man or an uncle. 
Do not enclose your identity preserved carefully under the sheathe, 
Do not breathe.

I am the woman who was 
Molested and assaulted, 
Gaped and raped, 
Smacked and acid attacked, 
Objectified and sanctified, 
Beaten and auctioned, 
Born and died right after 
My silenced screams, bruised scars, crushed down soul, ripped apart, are the evidence of my body being handed over in hands of patriarchy, as they conquer.

Listen, please follow these rules 
However I couldn't, 
I shouted and yelled, 
I opposed and protested, 
I screamed and hurled, 
I am, now, the bad girl. 

#dpf

4 Love

Guide to a good girl. 
1- When I was 5, my maa handed me over the barbie dolls and kitchen sets to play with, 
My fascination for hotwheels and beyblades, building blocks and video games, action figures and lazer rifles, to my maa and papa was more or less a cosmological myth.

My parents could not digest my leisure time being spent in company of boys and their masculine toys, and as the consequence, 
I was made to sit in a room all day, with a stuffed doll and few make up sets in defence.

I wanted to run away, from the holes of that dungeon tied to the invisible shackles, as quick as the squirrel, 
But i couldn't, i was the good girl.

2- When I was 13, a muscular and stiff man with dense beard and frowned eye brows, animalistic gazes and mysterious intentions, 
Reaches out for newly formed budding breasts, and inserts his fingers piercing into my vagina 
Leaving no unexplored canyons.

He played with me like I was the barbie doll,
But I thought cricket and kabbadi were his call.
He bruised me like I was the GTA or NFS car,
But those red scars, to him were merely victory avatars.

I wanted "my brother" to stop, to not gift me this disgust and pain as the rewards of my Rakhies, unable to unfurl, 
But i couldn't, I was the good girl.

3- I'm 21 now, and I have few advices for the women of my age, or younger or elder.
1, Do not show cleavage or thighs or shoulders or neck or legs or even your face,
For the length of your fabric can even get you raped, just like an 18month infant or an 80 year old lady, following your disgrace.

2, Do not talk to male friends or fall in love with men or buy condoms or go home late,
For you can destruct your hormones on pills, or get acid attacked on refusals or get killed in the name of kinship dignity to dilate.

Do not smoke or drink or go clubbing, 
Do not laugh out loud in public 
Do not raise voices against violence by men
Do not wait for thirties to get married 
Do not disrespect or disobey relatives or in-law
Do not break the tradition of indian culture 
Do not deny favours to your male bosses
Do not abuse in filthy languages and slangs 
Do not dream about sexual pleasures and female orgasms
Do not rant about education and career and women empowerment 
Do not use words like vagina or menstruation or masturbation or male chauvinism 
Do not object at being called a characterless or a bitch or a slut or a prostitute or a mistress 
Do not utter a word at being touched in several areas of your worshipped and sacred body by a boy, or a man or an uncle. 
Do not enclose your identity preserved carefully under the sheathe, 
Do not breathe.

I am the woman who was 
Molested and assaulted, 
Gaped and raped, 
Smacked and acid attacked, 
Objectified and sanctified, 
Beaten and auctioned, 
Born and died right after 
My silenced screams, bruised scars, crushed down soul, ripped apart, are the evidence of my body being handed over in hands of patriarchy, as they conquer.

Listen, please follow these rules 
However I couldn't, 
I shouted and yelled, 
I opposed and protested, 
I screamed and hurled, 
I am, now, the bad girl. 


#dpf

5 Love

"If ,one day... Someone came to your life and told You that, you are a doll, Cute like a doll..or you are pretty like a doll... My dear ladies..... Don't think or don't believe that..your existence matters to that person.. Yes dolls are cute and lovely.. But they are used for playing..people play with them...broke them and throw them... So my dear Ladies Do you wanted to be a doll???? Think about it.. Be a women be a fighter.. Not a pretty doll ,whom any one can play,any one can use and any one can throw ."

If ,one day...
Someone came to your life and told 
You that, you are a doll,
Cute like a doll..or you are pretty like a doll...
My dear ladies.....
Don't think or don't believe that..your existence matters to that person..
Yes dolls are cute and lovely..
But they are used for playing..people play with them...broke them and throw them...

So my dear Ladies
Do you wanted to be a doll????

Think about it..

Be a women be a fighter..
Not a pretty doll ,whom any one can play,any one can use and any one can throw .

 

139 Love
7 Share

#Annabelle #Reviews
Annabelle is an American Supernatural Horror Film released in 2014. I've had an opportunity to watch it back then, along with two of my friends, both of them were quite convinced that the movie would give them goosebumps and send chills through their spine. The first half of the movie or rather the first 40-45 minutes failed to leave an impact as whenever the doll used to pop up, the audience's laughter could be heard instead of screams. But after the initial failure of camaraderie, the movie rolled its sleeves up and a child began to show signs of the doll affecting his body and mind. The sketches that were drawn by the child as a mark of the future happenings with lady and her baby girl were enough to grab everyone's eyeballs and bring them the accounted experience of supernatural. A proof of which was given to me by my friends who successfully transported me from the corner seat to the middle one so, that each could grab an arm of mine whenever Annabelle would show up to stupefy them out of terror. The movie at the end, sent a strong message of the power of love , how love can surpass all the negativity of the world, especially the selfless love of a mother. How it becomes a shield for the child, for her family which drives even the biggest of the devils away. Also, was portrayed the true selfless love of an elderly lady, who had lost her daughter to an accident, plagiarized with the plight of the young mother and sacrificed her soul instead. The movie left most of us with a thought of what the devil is gonna do next with her soul and if the doll's ever gonna return... From my side, a decent watch and worth the time.

11 Love

100APC#6: Doll Bot

I was searching for subject matter, so I remembered my old art classes that taught me when I was at a loss for something to draw, I should draw what's around me.

So I took one of my niece's dolls, who she had stripped down to the bare plastic, and my copy of Don Quixote and positioned them like so in front of me. By the end I got inspired to create the Doll Bot taking a smoke break.

Never use, "I am not inspired," as an excuse not to create art. Sometimes this method is a great means to find inspiration. Another great tool in the tool box.

Enjoy your day.

Thanks for reading.

8 Love

"Guide to a good girl.  1- When I was 5, my maa handed me over the barbie dolls and kitchen sets to play with,  My fascination for hotwheels and beyblades, building blocks and video games, action figures and lazer rifles, to my maa and papa was more or less a cosmological myth. My parents could not digest my leisure time being spent in company of boys and their masculine toys, and as the consequence,  I was made to sit in a room all day, with a stuffed doll and few make up sets in defence. I wanted to run away, from the holes of that dungeon tied to the invisible shackles, as quick as the squirrel,  But i couldn't, i was the good girl. 2- When I was 13, a muscular and stiff man with dense beard and frowned eye brows, animalistic gazes and mysterious intentions,  Reaches out for newly formed budding breasts, and inserts his fingers piercing into my vagina  Leaving no unexplored canyons. He played with me like I was the barbie doll, But I thought cricket and kabbadi were his call. He bruised me like I was the GTA or NFS car, But those red scars, to him were merely victory avatars. I wanted "my brother" to stop, to not gift me this disgust and pain as the rewards of my Rakhies, unable to unfurl,  But i couldn't, I was the good girl. 3- I'm 21 now, and I have few advices for the women of my age, or younger or elder. 1, Do not show cleavage or thighs or shoulders or neck or legs or even your face, For the length of your fabric can even get you raped, just like an 18month infant or an 80 year old lady, following your disgrace. 2, Do not talk to male friends or fall in love with men or buy condoms or go home late, For you can destruct your hormones on pills, or get acid attacked on refusals or get killed in the name of kinship dignity to dilate. Do not smoke or drink or go clubbing,  Do not laugh out loud in public  Do not raise voices against violence by men Do not wait for thirties to get married  Do not disrespect or disobey relatives or in-law Do not break the tradition of indian culture  Do not deny favours to your male bosses Do not abuse in filthy languages and slangs  Do not dream about sexual pleasures and female orgasms Do not rant about education and career and women empowerment  Do not use words like vagina or menstruation or masturbation or male chauvinism  Do not object at being called a characterless or a bitch or a slut or a prostitute or a mistress  Do not utter a word at being touched in several areas of your worshipped and sacred body by a boy, or a man or an uncle.  Do not enclose your identity preserved carefully under the sheathe,  Do not breathe. I am the woman who was  Molested and assaulted,  Gaped and raped,  Smacked and acid attacked,  Objectified and sanctified,  Beaten and auctioned,  Born and died right after  My silenced screams, bruised scars, crushed down soul, ripped apart, are the evidence of my body being handed over in hands of patriarchy, as they conquer. Listen, please follow these rules  However I couldn't,  I shouted and yelled,  I opposed and protested,  I screamed and hurled,  I am, now, the bad girl.  "

Guide to a good girl. 
1- When I was 5, my maa handed me over the barbie dolls and kitchen sets to play with, 
My fascination for hotwheels and beyblades, building blocks and video games, action figures and lazer rifles, to my maa and papa was more or less a cosmological myth.

My parents could not digest my leisure time being spent in company of boys and their masculine toys, and as the consequence, 
I was made to sit in a room all day, with a stuffed doll and few make up sets in defence.

I wanted to run away, from the holes of that dungeon tied to the invisible shackles, as quick as the squirrel, 
But i couldn't, i was the good girl.

2- When I was 13, a muscular and stiff man with dense beard and frowned eye brows, animalistic gazes and mysterious intentions, 
Reaches out for newly formed budding breasts, and inserts his fingers piercing into my vagina 
Leaving no unexplored canyons.

He played with me like I was the barbie doll,
But I thought cricket and kabbadi were his call.
He bruised me like I was the GTA or NFS car,
But those red scars, to him were merely victory avatars.

I wanted "my brother" to stop, to not gift me this disgust and pain as the rewards of my Rakhies, unable to unfurl, 
But i couldn't, I was the good girl.

3- I'm 21 now, and I have few advices for the women of my age, or younger or elder.
1, Do not show cleavage or thighs or shoulders or neck or legs or even your face,
For the length of your fabric can even get you raped, just like an 18month infant or an 80 year old lady, following your disgrace.

2, Do not talk to male friends or fall in love with men or buy condoms or go home late,
For you can destruct your hormones on pills, or get acid attacked on refusals or get killed in the name of kinship dignity to dilate.

Do not smoke or drink or go clubbing, 
Do not laugh out loud in public 
Do not raise voices against violence by men
Do not wait for thirties to get married 
Do not disrespect or disobey relatives or in-law
Do not break the tradition of indian culture 
Do not deny favours to your male bosses
Do not abuse in filthy languages and slangs 
Do not dream about sexual pleasures and female orgasms
Do not rant about education and career and women empowerment 
Do not use words like vagina or menstruation or masturbation or male chauvinism 
Do not object at being called a characterless or a bitch or a slut or a prostitute or a mistress 
Do not utter a word at being touched in several areas of your worshipped and sacred body by a boy, or a man or an uncle. 
Do not enclose your identity preserved carefully under the sheathe, 
Do not breathe.

I am the woman who was 
Molested and assaulted, 
Gaped and raped, 
Smacked and acid attacked, 
Objectified and sanctified, 
Beaten and auctioned, 
Born and died right after 
My silenced screams, bruised scars, crushed down soul, ripped apart, are the evidence of my body being handed over in hands of patriarchy, as they conquer.

Listen, please follow these rules 
However I couldn't, 
I shouted and yelled, 
I opposed and protested, 
I screamed and hurled, 
I am, now, the bad girl. 

#dpf

4 Love

Guide to a good girl. 
1- When I was 5, my maa handed me over the barbie dolls and kitchen sets to play with, 
My fascination for hotwheels and beyblades, building blocks and video games, action figures and lazer rifles, to my maa and papa was more or less a cosmological myth.

My parents could not digest my leisure time being spent in company of boys and their masculine toys, and as the consequence, 
I was made to sit in a room all day, with a stuffed doll and few make up sets in defence.

I wanted to run away, from the holes of that dungeon tied to the invisible shackles, as quick as the squirrel, 
But i couldn't, i was the good girl.

2- When I was 13, a muscular and stiff man with dense beard and frowned eye brows, animalistic gazes and mysterious intentions, 
Reaches out for newly formed budding breasts, and inserts his fingers piercing into my vagina 
Leaving no unexplored canyons.

He played with me like I was the barbie doll,
But I thought cricket and kabbadi were his call.
He bruised me like I was the GTA or NFS car,
But those red scars, to him were merely victory avatars.

I wanted "my brother" to stop, to not gift me this disgust and pain as the rewards of my Rakhies, unable to unfurl, 
But i couldn't, I was the good girl.

3- I'm 21 now, and I have few advices for the women of my age, or younger or elder.
1, Do not show cleavage or thighs or shoulders or neck or legs or even your face,
For the length of your fabric can even get you raped, just like an 18month infant or an 80 year old lady, following your disgrace.

2, Do not talk to male friends or fall in love with men or buy condoms or go home late,
For you can destruct your hormones on pills, or get acid attacked on refusals or get killed in the name of kinship dignity to dilate.

Do not smoke or drink or go clubbing, 
Do not laugh out loud in public 
Do not raise voices against violence by men
Do not wait for thirties to get married 
Do not disrespect or disobey relatives or in-law
Do not break the tradition of indian culture 
Do not deny favours to your male bosses
Do not abuse in filthy languages and slangs 
Do not dream about sexual pleasures and female orgasms
Do not rant about education and career and women empowerment 
Do not use words like vagina or menstruation or masturbation or male chauvinism 
Do not object at being called a characterless or a bitch or a slut or a prostitute or a mistress 
Do not utter a word at being touched in several areas of your worshipped and sacred body by a boy, or a man or an uncle. 
Do not enclose your identity preserved carefully under the sheathe, 
Do not breathe.

I am the woman who was 
Molested and assaulted, 
Gaped and raped, 
Smacked and acid attacked, 
Objectified and sanctified, 
Beaten and auctioned, 
Born and died right after 
My silenced screams, bruised scars, crushed down soul, ripped apart, are the evidence of my body being handed over in hands of patriarchy, as they conquer.

Listen, please follow these rules 
However I couldn't, 
I shouted and yelled, 
I opposed and protested, 
I screamed and hurled, 
I am, now, the bad girl. 


#dpf

5 Love