Ota Benga: The Congolese Pygmy Who Became a Zoo Exhibit — The Vale Magazine

How is this different from the current consumption and exploitation of animals? Ota Benga at the Bronx Zoo holding a chimpanzee (1906) Around the beginning of the last century—in 1906, to be exact—the 4’11” Ota Benga was featured in an infamous… 515 more words Ota Benga: The Congolese Pygmy Who Became a Zoo Exhibit — The

Going on the same path, headed different directions

Sometimes the feel of hurt tastes so sweet and it can be tasted by the tip of the tongue as if it was just yesterday when I found all reason in you; a low point, I know, to believe that that would do but it felt safe it felt like home amid the world of

जुस्तजू क्या है

What is yearning  

Where the tree once stood

Go where the birds roam where they want. A place where they always come back, on a tree, underneath the sunlight. Living naturally within the forest that nurtures them cares for them that plays with them that holds the weight of their bodies after they move onto the next life and places it upon the

तुम को देखा तो ये खयाल. “I saw you; then this thought…”

“I saw you, then this thought came that life is the heat, and you are the leafy shade Today again, the heart made one wish today again I reconciled the heart life is the heat, and you are the leafy shade I saw you, then this thought came If you leave, then I shall think

When I pissed myself in China

No, it’s not something that I’m proud of; it never is, but some moments are so effing awkward, traumatic, yet thrilling that I have to write about it. The smell of sweat when you’re traveling alone for two straight days; running about here and there, trying to figure shit out while you follow rules less

Lowlands that stay flat

Lowlands that stay flat and go nowhere Fields of yellow grain that flood with shallow, sparkling waters Feelings that linger, barely touching Dreams, like transparent images Inconceivable echos surround And I just cannot Seem to exist in your world

Deep night with a douchebag

Southeast Asian beaches remind me of him. I was young, the night was wild, the winds were gently blowing over my face, and there was mystery light blinking from a ship afar. The stars were crystal clear and bright, the breeze was warm. My skin was radiating even in the dark. So warm it all

Psychos with red hair

I’m not really talking about those who were born with red hair, but I’m talking about those who color their black hair red while going grey with the belief that the red will make grey less obvious while not actually making it black because putting black on black hair would give it away. They’re sort

Street dogs and humans

Amid a pack of male dogs who gather around a female and have a hormonal frenzy, there’s also a street dog who walks besides a human that he claimed, or that claimed him, vice versa. They sit on the stairs to the closed store at night outside, and when the human figures that it’s time

Escalates up

Travelling on the back of a pickup with you Standing up, wind blowing through our shirts, Hairs over our faces; can barely see the smile Guitar playing in our inner ears The city looms with chaos There’s chaos in our hearts It escalates up  

मेरे सपनों की रानी

That marbled pathway

Who are we but bright flames that wane? Flesh alive and so here now, but can step away from these frames Far away the evening fragrance lingers Seeping into deeper woods Feeling is like morning weather With windchimes and little bells Rolling misty haze, kissing our feets Atop the marbled pathway Of a holy treasure

Vegetable seller

When I was a kid, I reclined near the balcony door under the sunlight and overheard the veggie seller shout out vegetables he was selling for the day. Such a lively thing it was; the crows were crowing… the birds were chirping, dogs barking, music playing, people talking, cars honking, kids yelling, bells ringing, whistles

Zoning out as usual

After almost 24 hrs without sleep in LA and a day of walking around in China, I’m just as is near the himalayas. Dusty roads and birds chirping around me mid daylight, but I’m just lying in bed inside. Staring at the cracked ceiling Filled with love.    

Book I’m not gonna read, sketch I’m not gonna draw

Something happens when I head to the east. Way more interested in soaking in the air, sounds, and sights; the honking of the cars, the hustling and bustling of people, random music, everything. Sitting on the rooftop watching people walk. Two years ago I went into a spell of whatever the f it was when

Wild Shiva

He’s got long dreadlocks and blue-black patchy skin He dances atop planets and creates cosmos with every turn His dance is powerful and wild He widens his eyes and sticks out his red tongue. Shiva dances with passion amid the cosmos He can erupt a volcano with the snap of a finger He spreads the

Prostitute

He saw her standing around in the middle of the road. She seemed disconnected and out of place. She hair was dirty, matted, and unkempt. She had scars over her dark skin. Her fabric of clothing, a saree, was dirty and had holes in it. She was really no different from any other young beggars

Ponzi scheme dreams

I don’t claim to be a saint He said I’ll steal for you, lie for you, fight for you So that you can live like a queen In a pink and maroon house surrounded by trees that you love Papaya, mango and plantains I’ll buy you all the jewels in the world Raise your dreams

अभी न जाओ छोड़ कर

Orange flood of light

Back in the time of Vishvamitra, Making love under the sunlight Your hand on my hand And an orange flood of light Warm hues in the sky, earth, and the seas Yellow mellow scents; orange blossoms and a crowd of marigolds A joining together type of feeling A trusting zen-like breathing  

Burning wood

Quiet nights And the midnight stray dogs that bark The scent of burning wood Clay pots and runny rice On a stove made of fine earth I’m wearing my favorite cotton dress And peeking out the open window railings While the cool breeze touches my face Unlocking my heart There’s the lingering scent from grandma’s

In her palace

She’s in her palace; her head resting on its beautiful marbled floor. She sighs at the way it cools her cheek on such a hot summer’s day. Breeze comes through the large windows and balconies that surround this grand architecture. They tease her wavy hair strands, which in turn tease her face. She’s listless and

Ceiling corners

Lying in bed Smoking hookah with Rumi Staring at the ceiling With walls made of shadows. The scent of agarwood in the air coming from the kitchen; Drafty rose and all things eastern and holy My skin oozes with warm toned oil A tasty blend of nature, dirt, rain in the city, Lotus, lily, ice

Vishnu sleeps

Vishnu sleeps Amid an ocean of glistening gems His chest heaves up and down, slowly Like the waves. The waters are gentle and warm And they tease his skin sometimes Making him smile at their playfulness. Vishnu sleeps, above a bundle of anxious nerves He sleeps sheltered underneath the umbrella of a cobra head There’s