FILE: RICHIK BANERJEE — Reflecting on the Art of Solidarity

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CLASSIFIED

Global South Solidarities — Student Contribution

REFLECTING

on the art of

SOLIDARITY

RICHIK BANERJEE

20 / 04 / 2026

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AUTHOR

Field Intake · Author Dossier

RICHIK BANERJEE

Practitioner of Literature — Poet, Thinker

Richik Banerjee Fellow · Thread 01 · 2025–26

◆ Author · Biography

Richik Banerjee is a practitioner of literature. He tries to think. He has four poetry collections — Two Commas And That Voice (2021, Authorspress, New Delhi), …URINE, YOGHURT, PSYCHOTOMY (2022, Authorspress, New Delhi), এক জোড়া মোজার ভিন্নমত (2022, Ashawari Prakashani), and এল-ডোপা (2023, Gangchil Prokashona). His poems have been published in reputed national and international platforms including EKL Review, Paradise on Earth: An International Anthology (USA), and Hunger: An Anthology (USA), among others.

Poet 4 Collections 2021–2023 English · বাংলা

◆ Project · Abstract

This project explores complex themes of freedom, societal control, solidarity, chaos, and the philosophical and relational significance of everyday objects — through a critique of normative structures and an emphasis on non-conventional, embodied, and affective experiences. Solidarity is read as a non-normative, disruptive, affective act beyond traditional social justice frameworks: a creative involution, unbound by heteronormative regimes.

The work approaches poetry as an unruly, excess-driven act that defies rationality and traditional meaning. Solidarity becomes a way of thinking that queers boundaries and embraces disorder — a creative exploration of love as a complex, risky, and affective process beyond social constructs. The text examines the aesthetic and philosophical significance of disgust, fecal matter, and bodily processes in poetic creation; language, silence, and the inaudible as sites of resistance, rupture, and alternative sensibilities; and the fluid, fragmented, non-linear nature of time, memory, and identity.

Poetry and solidarity are framed as disruptive, infectious forces that challenge social and political orders.

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INDEX

ASSEMBLAGE INDEX

MAP OF LOOSE MOTIONS

Chapter Structure — Subject RB-2026

Assemblage	Name	Pages
One	the oomph of your saliva	2–4
Two	the signature of the state	5–7
Three	hagufying kobita	8–14, 30–35, 39–40
Four	the theatre of death-wish	15–18, 22–24
Five	becoming-schizo / the intravenous survivor	20–21, 25–29, 36–38, 41–42
Six	the glitch in the arrangement	43, 47–50, 52–53, 55–66, 68, 70, 72, 74–84
Seven	a wound is an event of surprise	44, 67, 69, 71, 73, 85

UNASSIGNED NOTES

Note	Page(s)	Status
"0"	19	unassigned
"2"	45–46	blank / image — unassigned
blank	51	unassigned
"1"	54	unassigned
wound	85	added page — assemblage seven

This project is a way to addressing disparate ideas that come in as a playful gesture and become a field of thought-dots.

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OOMPH

Assemblage One — Pages 2–4

THE OOMPH OF YOUR SALIVA

Solidarity & Creative Involution

The oomph of your saliva coupled with the curves of your fleshy gum is the perfect chaos one desires to be collided with, a sweaty collision, erogenous convulsions driving one's tongue to the edge of sanity…I see your লোম making nature calls…chutneyed sprouts of my longing lingering across the spread of your such calls!

her metallic clitoris suspends the চুল of my cortex… she is a cosmic UV of suspension, a penal tube with a discreet autonomy, an ovulatory কুয়ো that runs deep into the মেঝে of critical fantasy…

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Solidarity knows nothing of 'damage control'. In this project, I would like to read the concept of solidarity from lens of a creative involution, a non-heteronormative desire that doesn't cater to the Oedipalizied regimes of narcissism or despair. Relations are borne out of relations and cannot be pre-empted by any grand socio-political macinery.

CORE THESIS

Solidarity, here, is an act of creative abberation, a pungent rupture in the ethics of social justice. Art that doesn't only disturb but spreads like an unwarranted desirous infection, where excess creates a playground of imagining untimely relations.

Protests are slowly converting into spaces of 'safe mobility'. What is 'the জনগণ'?

I have been participating in some 'planned' protest marches and quite frankly, I don't understand it fully. While visibility is important on paper, I simply cannot consider 'planned' marches to be of any shock-use. Rather, the marches are blueprints of responsibilized affairs where people find solace in advertised walks and self-promotional humanism. Narcissism follows soon after and residents feel happy about doing their 'bit'.

Protests can neither be systematized nor can rage be held accountable for irresponsible affairs. In its spectacular systematicity, protests are losing their inherent chaotic drives which are run by surpluses of emotions and risks. The surplus provokes a re-action of mobilization that incessantly provokes desires of shock-value whose usability doesn't necessarily align with the system of 'planned' operations.

The shock is used both intuitively by the actors as well as the non-actors, that is, people who are both within and without the legality of the state. Shock-use cannot be fully apprehended by either the actors or the state, as it is the outcome of drives that run on the outpouring of two moments apparently: residue of time (residual past) and surplus-present (present which is more than the 'just' present).

Rage knows no democracy or dissent. It is simply an affair of excess and the current staging of marches is taking away the rage of people while making them spaces of 'safe mobility'. The safety is, of course, maintained by the surveillance of the perpetrators, that is the government, against whom the marches are planned.

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FREEDOM

Assemblage Two — Pages 5–7

THE SIGNATURE OF THE STATE

Freedom, Control & the Personal

Hello folks. Here's some good news. Even freedom is a document, signed by the state. Signatures are omnipresent. Total freedom is total anarchy, something that can never be a possibility in life.

MARGINS OF FREEDOM

Life is a documentation of, what i call, 'margins of freedom'. Freedom has borderlines and margins beyond which nobody really knows what 'absolute freedom' feels like. Freedom is the seeable point, a catchable state of affairs, a sense-value that can be 'captured' by the logic of sense.

Freedom is the capture of such margins, a knowable end in logic. It is a document of the state, a record of balance sheet. There's no such thing as 'absolute freedom' because absolute freedom is absolute anarchy, something which does not meet the required standards of a considerable free subject. Freedom is the standardization of a sensible subject (in control) and therein comes the idea of 'responsibilization'.

Freedom is what the 'control society' wants you to believe in. Every act of 'given' freedom is a signature of the state, by the state and for the state. Freedom is an act of control considered by the state in exchange for acting responsibly within the limits of freedom.

It's a moral prescription that is forced upon us in order to make ourselves feel guilty when (and if) somebody thinks of crossing over the 'margins of freedom'. So, it is freedom only that takes away the 'if' element from life and becomes a routinisation of control.

DECLARATION

Freedom is a debt considered by the state and therefore, a direct demand of one's wilful submission to the sovereign power. Freedom is the actuality of control. Freedom is both a direct and an indirect surveillance of the state.

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I believe that my greatest strength will eventually lead to my irreparable downfall. I'm not a rational object of law.

No, I don't believe that rationality applies when it comes to the idea of love. It's a surge of complex emotions that makes us choose insanity over sanity, absurdity over rationality, schizophrenia over logic. And the basic part is that I don't understand any of the above brackets of human desire.

I don't wish to be an object of rationality anymore. I wish to be a creature, an effective multiple, a schizoid who takes divergent paths of actions, suffers centrifugally, moans and shrieks and farts and darts and bleeds puss, mucus and slimy yucky growths.

I do crazy stuff because I've taken the route towards illogical cantonment. Learning makes us raw. Degrees polish the raw meat and makes it gaudy. Let's 'go a little schizo'! I'm an impulsive stream of chaos who readily accepts potty-travel over biriyani contests. I'm everything but a rational human.

THE PARADOX

Isn't this rationality too, rationing my 'illogical cantonment'? This is the paradox! Solidarity can be about creating lines of relations that aren't clearly visible to our sense of social regimentation. But, that does't mean that the unclear foggy foamy lines of tension are missiing from the state of affairs!

It's all about taking a leap of faith and embracing risks that are supposed to be go wayward as per the regimetation goes. There are pluralistic vectors of imagining solidarity and the ecology surrounding it's peopled design.

WHAT ARE THESE PEOPLE?

But, who are these people? Antropocentric? Humanist? Moralist? Legalist? Rationalist? This? That? Rather, I aim at the problem of what are these people? What makes them people-like or not? What makes them enjoy the process of solidarity or not? What makes them accountable for their decisions or not?

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HAGU

Assemblage Three — Pages 8–14, 30–35, 39–40

HAGUFYING KOBITA

Hagu-Kobis, Broken Philosophy, Fecal Intimacy & Subaltern Poetics

They are the excess of samaj, disavowed extras, connivers and whose composition is very much grounded in the materiality of their existence. They are disgustive, vomitive and contagious in nature, echoing calls for pungency all around the streets of civility.

I call them hagu-kobis of the world, abjected yet metabollic in design, foul yet determines the health of a system. One can also look at hagu-kobis as the coolants of a system that runs on an 24*7 engine of factory-signifieds and certitides.

Hagu-kobis, as a concept, can be looked at as an affect that looks at joyful miscreancy, a fun-filled ride where mischief takes the place of telos. The discarded invisibilized repugnant Others who are often considered to be disposable waste or a burden to the sacrality of state apparatus.

I'm interested in the rhetoric of disposability as an embodies sign-structure that re-cyclically 'comes back' because the very structure that eliminates them needs the layout of profanity to be 'set apart' for future elimination from its blueprint. In this sense, structurally speaking, both sides are entwined in an ecology of semiotic entanglement, so much so that there is a kind of inter-active habitation that sets up a site of spatial contestation.

This space, or spatial involution, is what Gary Genosko talks of when studying Guattari in his book, Critical Semiotics (2016).

GENOSKO / GUATTARI

A-signifying semiotics are defined relationally by Guattari against signifying semiologies, beyond which — outside the strata defined by content and expression planes and form-matter-substance relations — are a-semiotic encodings (genetic and other codes involving signaletic communication among viruses, cells, bacteria that are stripped of any projected writing "onto" them (17).

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HAGU SHAKTI

You can hear the smell, eat the smell, almost smell the smell, touch the smell, feel! That's what hagu does to you! It philosophizes itself into minor political notes.

HAGU IS FREEDOM

Hagu is genderless, casteless, non-racist, a neutral motion in life! Hagu is freedom — colored scented freedom from the crutches of sovereign power.

BROKEN PHILOSOPHY — THE COMMODE

The birth of a commode is, what I call, 'broken philosophy'. We know that any active philosophical flow must carry some reactive disturbances for it to be (in)complete, thereby making philosophy 'move into' our life cycle. Consider the bathroom as the subjective motherland of bodily motion and the subjectivation of commode as an ethical birth of the bathroom-mother subject.

The object here doesn't simply remain an utilitarian item of dailyness. Rather, as soon as the object is being created in the mind of the creator, (s)he is aware of the medical usefulness of the commode as well as humanizing the object so as to familiarize the commode with the users as a daily socio-ethical practicioner.

The materiality of commode is 'trans(in)fused' (borrowing Ranjan Ghosh's idea) with human behavioral laws for it to be showcased as both a necessitated grotesque and the coprophilic jouissance that the subjectivated commode provides us with everyday. This is a daily intercourse that humans have everyday with commodes as the subjectivated grotesque. Commodes are our constant sexual partner. Hence, I disown the binary of the human and the non-human.

Philosophy is the everdayness of objects.

Ranjan Ghosh, in his boi, Trans(in)fusion: Trans(in)fusion is a method of 'doing' and 'living' and our non-method too — a map with which we begin to think through issues, disciplines, discourses and expire at a point where the initial map remains with a smudge, a torn, frayed end, a splotch.

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Panoptic gaze is okay but the infallible desire to be obedient towards the gaze is what makes the Gaze an all-pervasive discourse of the Bangali cultural hotspots. If there's no death, there's no life. If there's no expiration, there'll be no re-generation. If there's no filth, there cannot be civility. If there's no hagu, there's no system. If there's no pecchap, there cannot be any revolution born out of the dingy pathways of filthy desires.

Poetry ceases to survive without the filthy economy of desiring-hagu. Hagu is not only material but also the im-materiality of metabolic capital that is both spiritual and fearful.

METABOLIC CAPITAL

Hagu is the only symptomatic evidence of life and remains the only symptom that reminds us of the fact that life existed in full flow. Quite interestingly, hagu can be linked to the desire for living to the fullest and also to the farthest possible destination in life's journey. Pungency is the only trace that there's life, whether living or dead. A corpse becomes alive in its travel to the process of decay and pungent dissemination. Pungency is the key to life. So is hagu!

Poets are dispensable haggards, belonging to the lowest rung of the literary ladder. It is in their haggish dispensation that a poet reappropriates the fallenness of her literary practice. I call them 'hagu-kobi'. Hagu, because of their potty-smeared rule of existence in the hallowed domain of critical experts; hagu because kobis can be easily 'flushed out' from the princely states of ivy scholarship yet they remain in the undergarments of our earth, seeped into the soil and spread all over the land in a state of 'tensile inexactitude' as the abjected Other.

'Pottyfication', and not pontification, is the new verticality of 'word-vomit' (Prof. Arka Chattopadhyay uses this term in a blurb in one of my books), a compostable expression of desiring-hagu, the very becoming of affect and the 'disgustification' of aesthetics as a way of metabolic regeneration.

People often ask me, "Why do you give away free copies to everyone"? I smile and think softly, "Well, infection is free. You can get infected for free".

Enough of their gaze! Let us all embrace the catatonic pungency of 'hagu poetry', poetry-in-loose-motion.

Fecality is this state of perpendicular suspension of affect where the materiality of content matter distributes loathsome খেলামাখা across universities and sense-order disciplines. Any form of fecal radical currency cannot be gauged as before or after. Fecality is the suddenness of cerebral motion, an eeeew-yuuucky celerity that feels like a desirable infection.

Hagufying kobita is micropolitical in this sense, meaning that the very idea of poetic fecality (not SIMPLY poetic faculty), is virtually addressed in a commode-like eeeew-yuuuucky setting. The same old shit gives way to new shit!

Hagu-kobi is a perverse chiasmatic understanding of subjectivity whose fecality offers a humus-like ecology of thought; a natural order returning back to the bowel-design of poetic-cellular repair.

HAGU-KOBI METABOLIC AFFECT FECAL INTIMACY POTTYFICATION DISGUSTIFICATION

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LOVE

Assemblage Four — Pages 15–18, 22–24

THE THEATRE OF DEATH-WISH

Love, Nihilism & Schizometric Circuits

Longing for the tissue of one's agony, the scales of one's past,
the চা of one's desire, the blood of one's chahat,
the fabric of one's restlessness, the secrecy of one's beats,
the heat of one's tension, the drama of one's eroticism,
the cannibalism of one's appetite, the puss of one's thought,
the খিদে of one's thirst, the saltiness of one's aloneness,
the brushing of one's dawn, the teeth of one's dusk,
the animism of one's trauma, the diagram of one's resistance,
the veins of one's silence, the cracks in one's skin,
the cuts of one's time, the curse of one's breath,
the pulse of one's vomit, the pact of one's stimulation,
the fear of one's failing in love...

The semen of one's touch, the spit of one's alterity, the odour of one's excess, the cough of one's nudity, the strangulation of one's cornea, the rope of one's waiting, the abscess of one's detour, the ulcer of one's sensitivity, the ফোড়া of one's summer, the পুঁজ of one's stammering, the ময়লা of one's desire, the মলাট of one's বাসনা, the falality of one's death wish, the muckiness of one's trauma-blanket, the commode of one's fever, the gel of one's absence, the botch of one's tongue, the runniness of one's smell, the pickle of one's garbage, the rubbish of one's affair, the cavity of one's letting go...

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Now, I remember, in one of the interviews available on YouTube, James Baldwin talks of 'love' and how love as a sole idea hasn't been used as a political weapon or as an affective strategy for the upliftment of humanity or solidarity, in general.

Love, as a concept, always refers to something else that defines what love is, more so about constructs and signifieds. Love isn't a destination of any sort. It's a journey that might take us to some place, an accidental elsewhere, which is never the case when we think of 'love' as a social category.

I say, 'love' needs to be felt as a crematorial groundwork, a theatre of death-wish, an excremental avalanche, the divine fall from grace. The rhetoric says that one must 'fall' in love but in terms of loving, everything else is considered but the 'fall'.

Love is the footholding of expansive uncertainty, an essence of non-place, where desires catapult into jargons of authenticity. A 'restive dialectic' meets an ethics of restlessness where spots of time move into crevices of non-place, making a case for sublime accident.

Love-making isn't just bodily but an affective prefigural construction where heterogenous components from various social fields and endo-graphic intensities converge in a psychosomatic carnival, with no formal end/ends. Love is like an orgy-driven power, able to manipulate the moods of hegemony into an ectopic pregnancy, an anomalous cavity, a semiological orchestrator of 'schizometric' circuits that doesn't rely on any willing suspension of disbelief.

Nihilism is more about engaging the profundity of the Other with the self, an integrated wiring of self-enquiry, affirming a psychosomatic reflexivity of 'ethical distanciation'. One's nihilism is one's route to the ideology of jouissance.

Love has been totally instrumentalized and being made to function as a social, economic, racial, classed, casteist gendered Symbolic exchange (informally formalized transaction) which in turns responsibilizes the Oedipalized ecology of homotopic relations under the guise of liberal democracy.

your earlobes raise the thermometer of my lungs...

In between the folds of sweaty nerves and the tentacular lips of ovaries, between the bruises of hardcore nights and the blank puffy days, lies the navel of desire, the stretch marks of stenchy bites, curd-like gums and the vulva of muddy passions...

Let the white-coated tongue of ours taste the acidic burps of love-making.

Let the wild porcupine-like bloodstream of love free us all from the prescription of love. It is a wilful abstraction, অ-ধার্মিক বেনিয়ম চ্যাটচ্যাটে space whose technology lies suspended in a state of vertiginous blank sheet, always too far but always so easy!

Being sexy is being vulnerable to the point of touching the skin of one's existential threshold. The touch becomes the fabric of the other's desire.

love is like a dust particle
it is the particularity of a particle in the motion of dust
love isn't dustable
it ain't durable either
it is what it is
maybe the perpetual cojoining of ampersand
particle's particularity

loving you is like searching for the entry-exit point of a dust particle in life

CREMATORIAL JOUISSANCE SCHIZOMETRIC ECTOPIC TRANSCENDENCE

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SCHIZO

Assemblage Five — Pages 20–21, 25–29, 36–38, 41–42

BECOMING-SCHIZO /
THE INTRAVENOUS SURVIVOR

Reflecting on the Art of Solidarity, Schizometric Thinking, Acts of Writing & Listening

What is solidarity? What do we mean by the term justice? How is Law getting the better of social justice? Where does the concept of solidarity fit in amidst the turmoil of social justice and Law?

Solidarity, for me, is an act of creation, developing concepts from various domains of thought, be it social or antisocial (abjected side of the story) and I feel a deep sense of justice towards the creation of poetry not as a literary sidekick but as a solidary art form that doesn't depend on any school of thought but is a convergence of polyvocal desires and encrusted eroticism.

'Encrustation of eroticism' is to define a pseudo-structural layer of ill-defined desires amongst the many other layers of thinking-equilibrium. My intention is to create a dialogue between the text and the reader (myself included) so as to design a fabric of solidarity, starting with the author and not at a distance.

Reflections, I do believe, are supposed to go beyond mere representationalism and encounter a radical contingency 'from within'. The contingent is never outside the structure of alterity. The uncanny is housed within the structures of hospitality and ethics. The 'virtual' is the un-realized non-localizable potential of the real which Deleuze and Guattari discussed as opposed to the 'actual'.

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'SCHIZOMETRIC THINKING'

To define the concept is to address the limits of its definition. Every single piece of information (or 'signal') is an entangled fold of relations and processes, thriving on risky intercourse with eroticized equilibrium of edges. To be a schizo is to be a matter of disgustable stimuli, a feline-like habitation of porous bypasses, an unretractable irritant with an overt affinity for infectious lumps!

QUEERING THE LOCAL

Firstly, queering the boundedness of what we define as 'local' will be one of the key elements in relation to the globality of 'global' and in such a process, my subproject will try and relate to the affective categories of resistance in the understanding of poetry as a tool to connect with 'tangential others'. Secondly, due to the large-scale shift towards the advancement of artificial intelligence and right-wing populism across the globe, the nature of cerebral capital is undergoing a massive change in the treatment (and preservation) of value and intellect. This truism of technology, or, what we can call, 'technification of intellect', has created havoc in the field of humanities and social sciences.

Intellectuals don't inspire me. Cerebrals do. Intellectualism is idolatry-making. Cerebralism is game-making.

The bureaucratization of knowledge produces (and promotes) intellectuals as prototypical sacrosanct religious figures of power. These intellectuals are produced by such formal bureaucracy, promoted by the logistical framework of power relation, and are left to be disillusioned in idolatry. Intellectuals are social constructs of cultural knowledge and this culture-power has got nothing to do with intellect (as matter). The grey matter is always under the contract of 'Bhawans' and offices of intellect-control.

janitor's jhadu, rainbow, cotton candy, Brutus, pollutant, microbes…all are in solidarity with each other…eschatological leap into incorporeal becoming of time (Benjamin dials Gilles)…subjectivity is borne out of such impurities of transversal desires…

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CONTEMPLATING ABOUT ACTS OF WRITING

We speak through writing but at the same time, writing speaks back to us. A continual negation of affirming both the presence of the reader and the writer. An entry into a critical double bind that produces a negotiation between author and reader.

In this case, both the reader and the writer can never reach their desired destinations as they live through continuous habitational displacement. Maybe, ethics lie in that displaced gap, an interminable opening.

To write is to suffer from multiple deaths!

Writing is not pleasurably pleasurable! It is the activation of infinitesimal slippery loops of negation and confusion. It is an act of expiration. The flaw becomes the lunatic 'flow' of inhuman drives and animalistic desires.

Almost all my books carry errors. I am erroneous because mistakes make me a better lunatic. How can a lunatic better on his previous lunacy?

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SOLIDARITY AS LISTENING

Listening needs practice. It is an affective engagement that goes beyond the mere comprehensibility of whatever we've listened to. An everlasting residual practice that demands no perfectionism or any kind of probabilistic reasoning.

Listening is an art, an abstract composition of verses, which both affects the listener and the speaker in an intensive spirit of critical intimacy. The practice of listening is never meant to signal the incoming of a missionist response. It is to 'delay' the sight of any automated probability. To listen is to listen more!

SOLIDARITY DEFINED

Schizometric thinking is everything and anything that crosses the limits of our syllabic thinking; anxieties, conflicts, tension, mood swings, curves of passion, will, all of the thought-dots coming together to form a union of some sort, a gestural democracy. Solidarity, is essentially, the practice of such a gestational space where lines of relations are borne out of the untimely potential of events. Solidarity, is the creation of the art of solidarity!

THE CONFESSIONAL FRAGMENT

I don't know what i want. At times, i want money and at other times, i choose anarchy. Sometimes, my rationality makes me want to feel secure and be safe but in the very next moment, i feel inclined to care less for safety. At times, i want to be a risky slimy creature and at other times, i feel that i think that i will be happy living my life as a potbellied bhadralok.

Sometimes, i wish to be a poet who doesn't care for any kind of authentic settlement but, at other times, i feel my innards getting sliced open when i know that there's no seeable future in the materiality of revolt. Does nomadism carry any future? Am i a nomad or just a petit bourgeois who fantasizes about a distant revolution (to come) simply by daydreaming about stories from the pages of history?

I don't know. I don't know. I don't know.

Please understand that this ain't any existential rant about deep theory and stuff. It's the feeling, the felt transitions, the affective part or the encounter with transitions when reading that makes a text, jump out from the constraints of grammatical index and becomes 'in-itself', a medium of intravenous survival.

SCHIZOMETRIC GESTURAL DEMOCRACY DOUBLE BIND INTRAVENOUS SURVIVOR

FILE 07

GLITCH

Assemblage Six — Pages 43, 47–50, 52–53, 55–66, 68, 70, 72, 74–84

THE GLITCH IN THE ARRANGEMENT

Poetry as Loose Motion, Kobita, Micro-Poems & Fragments

POETRY AS LOOSE MOTION

Poetry is the approximation of desires and subsequent failures of its approximated states.

…poems are inexact surpluses of stupidity, generating tectonic shifts in the cerebral space, catatonic gaps and scratches that drive the pleasure principle in search of an arrivant.

Poems are Dionysian excess, the deformed surplus that drive madness and is, in turn, driven by stupidity: erring the responsibility of logic.

The use-value of a poem depends on the irrationality of its inutility. যে কবিতা পড়া যায় বোঝা যায় সম্পূর্ণ হয় থেকে যায়, সেইটি কবিতা নহে, এক্কা compromised familiar setup, যার value pre-deterministic.

If poetry is valued as transparent, what is transparent language then? I say, poetry is a 'fallen' language of investment, an investment of desires. To 'fall' from the grace-mark of value is what my poetry desires to be, a fallen investment.

Poetry holds an autonomy of a 'fall', the 'fall' of common sense. Poetry breaks into droplets of desire.

Poetry can't be, rather, shouldn't be recited all the time. Poetry, for me, is a loose motion that critiques the 'relation of relation'. Poetry can be sensed via touch, smell and taste too.

কত অল্প জানি আমি! কাজেই আমি অল্প-অল্প করেই চলি।

WOMBING AN ECOLOGY OF SILLINESS

…if we don't have the silliness to swim through the crevices in our repetitions then how come differences be expected in the everydayness of poetry? To become silly is to become courageous, to not make amends with the ossification of Sense.

Everything makes sense if there's sensitivity in place. Everything makes sense once imagination loses its grip on the magnified shops of ossified sensibilities.

The personal is political and the political is transversal.

There cannot be any মাপঝোক in passion. It's raw, fleshy, pucky to the 'sensible' ears. Poetry is mucky pucky fleshy whatevering of passion, ethological drives that catapult into latitudes of nomadism. Poetry is the অবাস্তবতা of passion.

KOBITA & MICROPOLITICS

A glitch in an arrangement of moralist diction is where the becoming of poetry (as well as becoming 'in poetry') lies. Kobita is not an arrangement of convenient diction by a language expert. Kobita must stop making quick-sense in order to inhabit a strange tension in her schizo-becoming!

কবিতা কোনো আবেগের গাইড বই না যার শুরু ও শেষ নৈতিকতার বাঁধনে আটকে থাকবে।

Kobita springs up from the middle and stays so but in an illusion of an 'end'. Poetry, as thought-in-thought, liquidates the regimes of representation in language. At least, it tries so.

Queering the homogeneity of seriousness is primarily what my poetic loose motion is all about!

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FRAGMENTS & MICRO-POEMS

Archiving memory is like walking on a tight rope
On one side, there's falling into oblivion
On the other, there's falling into concrete steps of familiarity
Both are archival possibilities.

Promise of a vulture
nobody cares to go off track
these tracks of familiarity
lead us to an echo chamber of dead zones
Even vultures try and avoid dead meat from these zones of echo
The vultures are flying off track now

Imagining euthanasia
God my! God my! God my!
Bestiality is like the flames of northern lights!
creatures belong to the belly of virtual
crocodiles light up the waters of absence
Waiting for euthanasia

Many-a-time i have thought of writing something
but then
the thought itself writes in an automatic absence
Who is writing whom?
Thought or absence?

What's poetry if not whatsapping the left overs from yet to-be to the uncapped lines of yets?
Yet it's called poetry!
yet and yeti
spongy jugalbandi

ভাষা তামাশা হতাশা বাতাসা কুয়াশা

Gupchup gupchup gupchup গুপচুপ গুপচুপ gupchup গুপচুপ গুপচুপ গুপচুপ gupchup gupchup

By the way, who's there?

Let's write one joke
abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyz
even death can't mukti us from the sequence of letters

Baudrillard score
fowl cutlet of a fowl cutlet of a fowles cutlet

Subtended signs — ময়দা মাখানো রুটি এবং জলহস্তীর পাকস্থলী — দুটি দুই গ্রহের চিহ্ন — তবে মিল তো আছেই বটে কোথাও একটা! জানা আছে কারুর?

দাড়ি ধরে মারো টান রাজা হবে খান খান

I do hope that the readers will be curious enough to translate the Bangla language as per their tongues!

I'll cease to write as soon as nonsense becomes categorical.

FILE 08

WOUND

Assemblage Seven — Pages 44, 67, 69, 71, 73, 85

A WOUND IS AN EVENT
OF SURPRISE

The Self, The Other & Becoming-Animal

The other of the self is also a creation of a reference where the self only is a referential posture of socio-cultural simulations. There's no self but only the other who in fact, wards off the posturing of a self. Society prides itself on the 'self-self' fashioning of subjects who are nothing but simulations of abstracted referents.

Who needs this 'self' in a human? The self doesn't even carry its own self-time. The other is the unreciprocated variant in a system of relations who waits in secrecy, waiting in 'real time', that which is unknowable to the state yet ever present in social fields. Reality is the distancing of the self and so, is always outside the self-fashioned 'self' of a Self.

A tick is the abominated other, the feared jaanwar, which i desire to-be. i wish to enter into the non-ness of a non-human and remain as a coiled other, who is very much capable of overturning the fabricated posture of its own subjective practice of truth.

মানুষ হয়ে বোকা বুনেছি।

What are thoughts if not an accident of the sensible?
A car slipping over রোডমাখা মাখানো creamy sandesh
Theropod kafkas milking grey-eyed ভ্যাস
and a gymnast working night shift in KGB
Answers are no longer in proximity to the ears of institutions.

FILE 99

ORIGINAL

Archive · Full Dossier

The Original Document

Reflecting on the Art of Solidarity — the project as composed, in full.

Richik Banerjee ● GSS · Spring 2026 ● Full PDF · ~85 pp.

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