Mashiro Tamura

Little clips of a baby goat that I met in a tribal village in West Bengal, India. 

She was often mistreated by her peers, 
shoved aside when trying to eat, 
scared of everyone. 
She often was in solitude. 
Someone nicknamed her
“the victim”. 

I felt very attached to her as time goes by.
Though we were both in solitude,
I did not relate to her.
But I was attached, 
and gave so much attention.

The more I observed,
the more I sensed liberty.
Free from desires,
perfection,
pressure.


I question the nickname.

Feb 2025