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Ankitha RS

@ankitha_rs

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Turned twenty seven, “Time be driven”, not like heaven is given.

Reflections

Considering the speed at which capitalism is seeping in deep roots like tentacles, in each suction point a different purpose; safety-comfort, mental well-being-dissociation.
This octopus is crawling on the necks of the poor , slipping away through the lubricant called wealth. Research says buying a piece of land has gotten harder than its ever been, almost impossible unless you’re born into rich.
The indigenous people believe “We do not inherit the earth from our ancestors, we borrow it from our children.” The very core of this proverb is belittled with everything capitalism stands by.
Consumerism today has found comfort in “faster, cheaper and prettier” made by machines. Well, how can one blame them money saved is money earned.
Now let’s go a couple of hundred kilometres from the city I hail from Bengaluru, in any given direction pick a remote village. One will come across a family or families that grow trees whose wood will one day hold them. The deep act of caring and nurturing for something that would outlive the one who planted it takes away “Power” and put in “Responsibility.”
For good things take time and shall stand the test of ….. by @ankitha_rs

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a year ago

Tribute to the land of saints and savages, life and death, devotion and delusions.
#varanasi #khumbmela2025 by @ankitha_rs

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a year ago

Death.
The word itself brings such heaviness even though it’s as natural as a fart. A friend once said, “Death is the only thing we are sure of after coming to life.”
This lingered in my head and crept into everything and everyone I saw. The dualistic nature of things, many cells are dying right now as you read this and many cells regenerating. Time is fleeting and so are things you can touch, hear, feel, and see yet everything is divine for the very fact that it exists here and now.
The earth we walk on, if we look closely enough is constantly full of life and death, in its balancing, act of contrast. As for living life gets heavy when a loved one passes, maybe just maybe the ones that passed are lighter than they have ever been.
And just maybe again life is heavy for the living because we tend to carry it, over let it flow.
Animals and trees mourn the dead too, the ground beneath our feet is full of fragments of life that the dead left behind call it fungi or ancestors they are alive.
Maybe,
Death is a balancing act of light that has passed on to another kind of living, the one that can not be experienced while living if one holds on, holds on tight to whatever that is, that makes one feel safe. Does one see death in the eyes of someone before they go?
In the culture I come from death is celebrated like life itself we mourn we dance we feast to DEATH.
Picture 1- Buddy
Picture 2- Balakrishna Thatha my maternal grandfather with my brother
Picture 3- Ganga
Picture 4- Baby Stark
Picture 5- Akshay Nag Reddy and I by @ankitha_rs

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2 years ago

1. Something I wrote while waiting for a friend to open the gate.
2. Gul Mohar and Jacaranda decorate the pavement.
3. Gul Mohar on construction stones.
4. Valparai forest bed.
5. Bombay, jamoon painted roads. by @ankitha_rs

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2 years ago

Where do women go?
When at home, hands could lurk on our skin.
The ones that were told would be safe abode.
Where do my sisters go?
The door was left open when a friend went for breakfast the other day.
And I happened to doze off at 11'30 in the noon.
A strange man decided that an open door with a woman sleeping alone was an invitation, not just to walk right in.
To hold a knife while he woke me up?
Where do my loved girlfriends go?
When we've lost our voice screaming?

We will go to the center of the sacred fire, raging for the honor lost!
We will rage until we are respected.
We will burn in this battle if that's what it takes
We will not stand still. We will set it ablaze.
Women
And
The many
Safe
Spaces
We build
With
Center
Of fire
And
A
River
Around.

The knife I sharpen can help cook a meal or scoop some eye balls out. :)

📷- @yura.aboltsin ❤️🌺 taken in Goa, India by @ankitha_rs

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3 years ago

Part one of @hamsahorganic some glimpses of building infrastructure with cob, and being a part of an organic farming and a sustainable living community. From making dosa on wood fire to learning flooring, to sharing love with chai, and to @insensitivebastard01 taking kitten on bicycle ride because she’s was new to the farm. To the flowers shared, to all the butterflies and insects, and the many trees that held space for humans and fungi. To John and the whole community and to learning I’m #grateful taken in Hamsah Organic Farm and Sustainable Living by @ankitha_rs

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4 years ago

to #dharavi thank you ❤️ taken in Dharavi,Mumbai by @ankitha_rs

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4 years ago

I let them grow, unless one fine day I’m like okay now maybe it’s time to experience it, the whole process the pain to the itchy growing all of it. I’ll do it only if I want to embrace it all. To all the loving, strong, savage,soft all kinds of men and women out there, you know exactly what your body is comfortable with and is not, you do not have to ignore/deny them just to fit into to the idea of a norm. #bodyhairisokay #bodyhairiabeautiful #bodyhairdontcare by @ankitha_rs

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4 years ago

vine flower. 🏵️ by @ankitha_rs

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4 years ago

Let’s call him Mr. Police.

Around 10:45 towards Calangute junction a man in police uniform was ridding by my friend while giving me an extremely dirty gaze, I looked back astonished as I noticed he’s a police and asked him what the hell?! He pouted at me like he was kissing, this disgusted me even more. I asked my friend to follow him as I told him what had happened, the man tried his best to get away but failed. While I confronted him he tried denying it, called other civilians for attention to make me look like the culprit, I did not give in! I stood my ground while extremely angry asked him for his ID he replied to my friend “Ay! Who the hell are you in front of police?”

I’m heading to the Anjuna police station where he apparently is posted, so I could file a complaint. This is not the first time I’m a victim to police abuse this is the first time I have managed to get a picture of the police at authority.

As per my knowledge a police’s job is to make civilians feel safe not fly kisses at women who pass by!
#policeabuse #sexist #justice

Update: the complaint has been filed , there was a beautiful lady police who helped through the process named Sneha. Hoping action will be taken against him.

Update 2: Ms. Sneha understands the intensity of the issue whereas a few of her fellow colleagues gave me mocking stares, the culprit was called to the station when I first saw him I got anxious and told the police he's the one, not miss Sneha her colleagues as she was a little caught up they gave they gave me weirder looks and a lady cop started talking to me with disrespect, I had to remind her I'm no criminal I'm the victim and this is only causing me trauma. After which they made me meet miss Sneha, she called the man to confront the issue, he tried his best to deny it and got caught with his lies all the way through and made it more obvious that he messed up, he apologized with 0 heart to do so, I will be meeting the inspector soon, actions will surely be taken against him. I have great respect to officers like Ms. Sneha they make the world a little safer for us women.
Update3: Ms Snehs Never called me back like she said she would. It’s been over a month now taken in Goa City, India by @ankitha_rs

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5 years ago

Between restlessness&making sense.

In a tiny box flow a million thoughts.
Call it blue or Indigo,
Sometimes it all Rots.
And at that moment you let go.
The people of different sorts,
And all of these memories still glow,
But then again your tiny box.
Ran like a fox,
Hides in a paradox,

And then you question a friend and a Foe,
Remembering the life of a sad hoe!
And all the greed mankind shall bleed.
As we all forget what is need,
And indeed we'll march holding a Torch.
To make sense of the itch to never rest,
And now we put it all to test.
-Ankitha RS

#poem #khumbmelab taken in Allahabad, India by @ankitha_rs

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5 years ago

Footsteps from afar, laughter, the air smells of burnt tobacco.

Voices fill the room, men laughing arguing talking some listening.

A lady sits with a pirate eye, tapping tobacco in her palm, places it carefully between her teeth.

In her mouth hides; unspoken words, fear, freedom, and respect with a hint of tobacco.

-ARS

Ps: the picture is not related to the caption.

The beautiful lady here is cracking areca nut which would later be used in pan or chewed.
Allahabad by @ankitha_rs

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5 years ago