Tag Archives: love

Fallen Angels

FALLEN ANGELS, a film that moved me greatly, brought me to tears and even made me smile. I’ve never doubted the strength that a woman had but this documentary made me realise, we are more than what we will ever know or can gauge.The many lives I have witnessed of the women around have only taught me strength, hope, courage, optimism, kindness and love. I wish I could reach out to each one of these children and their mothers, tell them it is okay to accept their realities, it is okay to be a sex worker, it is okay to cry and weep. These women may not be great personalities but they still inspire me, give me strength.

Please watch the film below.
it isn’t being embedded for some reason. However, please click on the link  and watch.





She looked at herself in the mirror,
Cursing her flaws, the freckles on her face,
“I should have been lighter,” she thinks,
Only imagining the cover girl, she idealises within.

She touches her plump, curvaceous body,
Sucks in her perfect little tummy,
runs her hands down her hips,
tries to pose sexy, with a pout on her lips.

Her stretch marks showing,
Her hair is all curly, messed up in a bun
She looks no less than a super model
But just not the girl she dreams of, not that one.

“More carrot juice,” she says out loud.
Yoga and exercise will do the trick.
I will fit in my skinny jeans, short skirts and fancy dress
And oh gosh! my hair! I hate this mess!

45 minutes have passed
She comments on all the ordinary,
the cellulite, the love handles, dark circles, pointy nose
She smiles one last time and is disappointed at the way her gum shows.

Trying to love the little she can,
examining her bare body, unable to understand.
She picks up the magazine,
The perfect image of her on that cover page
Yet not one single aspect with which she can relate.

What is real, she thinks to herself,
The blush, the long lashes or the fair skin,
The image the world has built for her
Or what she really feels within?

Is she the beauty on that cover page,
The work of make up artists, photographers and talented photoshop skills,
Or is she the woman in the mirror
Trying hard to love herself, love herself, just a little!

Why doesn’t she see the truth,
perfect is perfect only when it’s you!
The wrongs, the rights, the fat and the freckles,
The unique smile, it’s all you, and that’s all that’s true!

The way you dance without a care in the world,
The way you smile at those in need,
Screaming out loud
You need no approval,
For loving all, all that is real.

Being fair, being tall, being thin
It’s not what beauty is made of
Beauty is, what lies within.

This poem is dedicated to every person who at some point has felt insecure, felt not being good enough, or has felt ugly. The media, the beauty industry is selling us a standard of beauty that does not exist, there is no perfect! The epitome of beauty that is shown to us, is only so that we learn to hate ourselves, to find faults so that we resort to their products to reach that standard. In the mad rush to gain more consumers they are selling a fantasy world to us, a world that never existed and will never exist. What exists is you, flesh and bones, happiness and sorrow, love and hate, a package of emotions and expressions, this is what  beauty is made of and nothing else!

Everyday I see women doing so much just to lose weight, to look good. I mean there is no harm in wanting to be fit but there is a huge problem if you wish to get there by comparing yourself with something that does not exist and criticise your body. It also makes a person judgemental about another person’s body. It’s a vicious cycle and now someone else has become prey to this flawed standard of beauty. Learn to love yourself and live with it. Only when you accept it and have the courage to live your life loud and clear, wear the clothes you want to wear irrespective of your size, feel free about your body, many others will too. Each day several people we come in contact with, draw inspiration from us and ape our behaviour unknowingly. Lets make them copy something worthwhile!

Its a chain reaction, when someone sees you so comfortable in your skin, wearing whatever the hell you want and living life free, they’re going to want to do the same. Freedom is within and so is beauty!



‘Pieces’ is a photo series, wherein I have tried to aesthetically capture pieces of ones soul in the parts of the face and body. It is a the birth of emotions and stories through incomplete pictures, that ultimately come together to create a whole.


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Hoping for Sunshine

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Through a million miles
Under a thousand suns
Love had once again begun

Roses had bloomed
The earth slowly, yet steadily dried
Giving way to new life

The misery was over
People were merry
Life was a million smiles, all back to normalcy.

Prayers and prayers
For all in the rains
Prayers and prayers
For smiles and lives
Prayers and prayers
For all in Chennai!

~Sarah Thomas

The Abyss Of The Mind

Through this photo series I have tried to capture the many aspects of loneliness – depression, anxiety, fear. The photos seek to look at a not so colourful world, devoid of meaning. A world most people are living in right now. And the truth is, it’s never on the outside, it’s always on the inside and that is what I have captured – the reflections of the mind.IMG_7660 copy

Let it go
As it all withers away.

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I’m watching my self
Watching through the gaps,
Secretly, just watching myself breakdown.

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I’ve waited long enough,
To meet my own self
Lost somewhere in the abyss of my mind.

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Can you look deeply?
Can you see my soul?

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The fear of yesterday scares me,
As I hold on to the walls,
Knowing as perfect as it was,
Nightmares don’t come with labels.

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Broken down,
Looking into the unknown
I’m waiting to fill that space
Yet I feel your presence,
I see your face.

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Let those thoughts gush.
A reflection of the mind.


You were my comfort,
my security,
my protection,
my happy place.
But great things are achieved
when life leaves you in the spot
devoid of any protection, away from your comfort zone
So I bid goodbye to all things lovely,
to all things that made me weak.
I bid goodbye to you,
for a better me.


“Tell me your deepest secret,” he asked. The coffee shop was unnaturally quiet. A couple giggled in the corner, their whispers echoing in the silence. He looked around and took another sip of the coffee. They were coffee shop friends and their friendship had begun in silence, when only the slurping and the coffee kept them company.

“I’ve always had a strange fascination for curves, things that were flexible and could flow. I always thought angles were rigid and complicated. Somehow, imperfection always seemed perfect to me,” he answered. “That’s not strange at all,” the friend replied. “Nobody is perfect and life’s always about the curves. I love curves too, it has something so artistic and lovely about it.”
He smiled and nodded in agreement. “The world loves curves, it represents creativity, I’ve always thought straight lines were somehow unattractive and rigid,” the coffee shop friend continued in deep thought. Silence took over again. He reiterated, “So what’s your secret?”

Their eyes met, “I’m not straight,” he replied. His eyes still fixed on him. The friend now seemed uncomfortable, suddenly there was a certain awkwardness around them. He got up to pay the bill. As they left, the friend smiled, “I guess the world is rigid and stale, tomorrow same time?” They nodded and went their way.

The room was full of romantic whispers again.

– Sarah Thomas

You never know when the bus is coming

I read this today and thought I must must share this. Please spare a moment.

“I love being horribly straightforward. I love sending reckless text messages (because how reckless can a form of digitized communication be?) and telling people I love them and telling people they are absolutely magical humans and I cannot believe they really exist. I love saying, Kiss me harder, and You’re a good person, and, You brighten my day. I live my life as straight-forward as possible.

Because one day, I might get hit by a bus.

Maybe it’s weird. Maybe it’s scary. Maybe it seems downright impossible to just be—to just let people know you want them, need them, feel like, in this very moment, you will die if you do not see them, hold them, touch them in some way whether its your feet on their thighs on the couch or your tongue in their mouth or your heart in their hands.

But there is nothing more beautiful than being desperate.

And there is nothing more risky than pretending not to care.

We are young and we are human and we are beautiful and we are not as in control as we think we are. We never know who needs us back. We never know the magic that can arise between ourselves and other humans.

We never know when the bus is coming.”

—Rachel C. Lewis, Tell The People You Love That You Love Them


I love portrait photography. Every face is very unique and beautiful and I try to explore that in my pictures. These pictures have been clicked at different points of time so you will find different logos (I’ve been experimenting with them and so far I’ve not been satisfied with any) used. Go through the pictures, your feedback is most welcome. 🙂

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Imagine your face, burnt and charred. Your nose replaced by two little holes, almost as if it does not exist, just a slit for a mouth, and your skin sticking to the adjacent parts making movement difficult. The very thought of it is frightening. But that is the life these women have been leading since they were attacked with acid. Acid attack is an extremely gruesome crime committed against women. There are a significant number of cases in India, some are registered, some go unnoticed while others are scared to come out in the open and tell their stories because they are afraid of what the outcome would be.

I had read of these cases, watched their interviews online, their stories touched me deeply, but not until I met them did I realize what acid attacks truly mean. A meager toilet cleaning agent that we may have used several times has now wiped out the very existence of a person.

 “I’ve lived this way for the past ten years now, people look at me strangely. Today, I was travelling in the bus and a mother and son were seated opposite. They looked at me and began laughing loudly. While the others looked at me and turned away. I did not know what to do. I was helpless, who can I blame? They laugh because I look this way and I am aware of that,” said Jayalakshmi, as she tried to fight her emotions.

Jayalakshmi was attacked by her husband in Tumkur. She explained that he always doubted her, even before the attack he used to beat her up. Every time she went back to her parents with cuts and bruises, her mother would advice her on the importance of a husband and what it means to be a wife. She said one of her mother’s advice was, “It is alright if he beats you, after all he is your husband. He has the right to do anything he wants to, please don’t come back here. Now that is your home.” Her words sent shivers down my spine. Her very own mother spoke so heartlessly. It is sad that our society still holds such misogynistic views.

She went on to tell me of how her husband was given a jail term, and how her struggles began from then on. To defend his deeds she said, swallowing her tears, that he blamed her of running a brothel. “He said I was a prostitute, and that is why he did this to me. My very own husband to whom I gave twenty long years of my life, bore his children, got them married and now he speaks of me as a prostitute,” she paused. “Thankfully my neighbors backed me up,” she continued, tears rolling down her eyes.

Many cases of acid attacks go unregistered because the society blames the woman. There have been cases in which the police have barged into the woman’s house to cross check if it was a brothel or if there was illegal sexual activities happening. What right does a man have to throw acid on a woman, even if she is a sex worker? What makes her lesser of a human being, she is entitled to all the human rights as of any of us. Nobody has the right to take that away from her.

Most often the victims hear these sentences after the attack, “She gave way, must have been her fault, she deserves it, Oh! Love, she was in love this ought to happen, characterless woman!” Not only does she have to go through physical and mental trauma all her life for no fault of hers, she is also ostracized by the society.

Jayalakshmi is now a social activist, working for women rights and women empowerment in the villages. She has come a long way. But her life was never easy. In the beginning her family told the doctors to take away her life. “They said, how could anyone live with a face like that, I was unconscious, after I gained consciousness I was given treatment. They warned me not to look at the mirror.” Her body was burning, she knew she was attacked by acid, somewhere deep down she knew life would never be the same. But it was not until she saw her face that reality dawned upon her.

Recollecting the incidents in chronological order, she says that she saw her face while drinking coffee. It was her reflection and that day something within her broke. “I wanted to die; I told the doctors that I don’t want to live anymore. Why live with a face like this, and even today I wonder why didn’t the attack kill me, why did I survive?” She looked towards me as though seeking for an answer, but all I could do was stay mum. Who could answer any of her questions? We equally carry the shame of this act. For staying mum, for allowing her and so many others go through something like this.

Our face is our identity, with that gone and the very people you seek courage from treating you like an alien. All you can do is give up. “Nobody gave me their house on rent; they said their children would get scared of me. The people in my locality asked me to wear a burkha because my face was so frightening,” she said, now smiling at me. Not once did the people in her locality, the very place she lived for 20 long years think what it would be to lose a face. Every time she looks at someone whether ugly or beautiful, the very fact that they have a face would be killing her. How would she look at herself, dealing with that very reality was a task of courage.

“I don’t care anymore, let them look. This is me. I feel hurt when I am called for marriages and people take photos. I just want to get done with it. I don’t wear a burkha, this is my identity now and I have come to accept it. Before the attack I was a very scared person. I wouldn’t walk out of the house without my husband’s permission. But now I have changed, I am not scared anymore,” she proudly stated. All of us have a voice, and there’s a reason we do. If we can’t raise our voice against injustice, for the innocent people who are in pain, then what use are we to the society? They say it takes courage to raise your voice, in reality it just needs a heart that can feel for another.

Today Jayalakshmi is a strong woman, who goes around educating women about their rights. She says that it is shocking that women from the cities also go to her for help. It isn’t about where you come from, injustice is everywhere and all people need today is courage, she explains. Women are taught to be submissive from childhood and that’s how they grow up, when it’s time to face the world they are left helpless.

“I am more confident without a face than when I had one. People will look, they will laugh. It hurts but what’s more important to me is to be useful to the society. So what if it happened to me, even if I do cry every night, I am happy that I am helping someone else. It all starts at home,” she says. Educate your daughters but do not forget to teach your sons the value of a woman. Do not forget to tell him to respect a woman, because she is an equal.

My conversation with Jayalakshmi gave me a new perspective to the world. Her achievements gave me courage and taught me so much. It wasn’t a conversation; it was an experience I will never forget. Every acid attack survivor is a fighter, an epitome of strength. Their beauty lies not in their face but in their outlook to life, in their very being. The world has a lot to learn from these women.

While I was contemplating on all of this and fuming with anger towards those cowardly men who stoop to such low levels to prove their superiority, all I could see in Jayalakshmi was gratitude towards the few who helped her, who stood up for her.

It is shameful that in our search for beauty, in our superficial outlook of the world we have stopped looking into the depths, stopped valuing human emotions. In our efforts to reach somewhere, to go ahead in the race, we have stopped being humane. We have forgotten humanity. And no amount of money, success or fame can give you that. In all honesty, Jayalakshmi showed me how poor we are, how ugly we truly are on the inside and how selfish human race is. She unmasked the whole of society in the two hours that we spoke.

So now I realize the statement, ‘Beauty is skin deep.’ May be for once, we as human beings must look into the mirror and ask ourselves how beautiful are we on the inside. Your skin will wrinkle, your eyes will go dim, and your teeth may not stay there forever too.  But the little heart you carry will stay beautiful forever; let us make our inner selves beautiful, because that is everlasting. May be all this while our very perception of the world was wrong, people must be loved for who they are and not for the way they appear.

Strange but true, all our scriptures teach love, because that is the only language common to the entire universe. Let us learn the language of love. Their scars may never heal but can pave way to a revolution. A revolution in perspective!

I have done a documentary on acid attacks on women, ‘SCARRED’. It is the second all India to be made on the issue and the first to receive a nation wide platform. Jayalakshmi’s interview has been featured in the film. 
Do watch: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P7EKbHcwjX8
Originally published in the June edition of the Tabor Kirana.