Why I Choose to Be Political and Why You Should Too

Growing up between cultures, I’ve seen how politics isn’t some distant machine tucked away in a parliament or White House. It’s something alive. It breathes in the air we’re allowed to breathe, the water we have access to, the wages we’re paid, the wars we don’t get to vote on. Politics has never been optional for most people around the world. So why do so many still treat it like a dirty word?

I’ve been told that being “too political” is polarising. That neutrality is more “mature.” But here’s the thing: neutrality has always been a privilege. It’s easy to be apolitical when your rights aren’t up for debate. When your land isn’t being seized. When your skin, your language, or your accent don’t make you a target. When the systems already work for you.

I’m political because I believe in memory.

I remember stories my parents told me about West Bengal. About strikes and student movements. About how even the smallest protests could shake something awake. And I remember realising that what seemed like distant history was very much present in the world I live in now, whether in Adelaide, Darjeeling, Siliguri or elsewhere around the world. Everywhere, there are people rising up, and systems pushing back harder.

Being political isn’t about having the perfect ideology. It’s about choosing to care. It’s reading between the lines of a news article, questioning who benefits from a certain policy, or simply refusing to accept that this is the best we can do.

I’m political because I’ve worked in corporate spaces and still felt the silence when injustices hit the news cycle. Because I’ve seen colleagues from migrant backgrounds underpaid, overworked, and told to be “grateful.” Because I’ve seen how the system gaslights those who speak up. And I’m political because even in tech, in consulting, in supposedly “neutral” industries, none of us are untouched by the machinery of inequality.

As a South Asian woman navigating the intersections of capitalism, colonial legacy and global injustice, being apolitical isn’t an option for me. It would mean erasing parts of myself: my past, my people, and the possibilities of change.

And I know it’s exhausting. The world feels like it’s on fire more days than not. But that’s exactly why it matters. If we stop paying attention, if we stop speaking out, the systems that thrive on silence win.

I write because I believe that words, when wielded with clarity and courage, can be a form of resistance. I stay political because hope, without action, is just a daydream. And I invite you, especially if you’re young, especially if you’ve felt powerless, to join me in choosing to be political not because it’s trendy, but because the stakes are real.

We deserve better. And we can’t get there by staying quiet.

Location: Kolkata, West Bengal, India