Friday, February 22, 2008

(AHAM Part # 02) Look Not For The Flame. Be A Flintsone, Find A Flintstone. Flame Shall Happen!

a child was i, in shy gay abandon...
didn’t know, i, to smile, to cry,
when boys were busy lifting skirts,
and girls played games with their fingers,
neither with boys nor with girls,
i didnt ‘do’ any, nor did the thought trespass between my ears.
all that i liked was to listen to was my inner voice…
the echoes moved in my heart that bled, seeking in life, a choice.
just a choice of a life. not another life, but a life, within my life.

in school i was just a bully, a little tall panzy bully,
not effeminate, but scared,
scared so much, that all my expressions were incomplete.

there was this boy by the name of santosh who used to tease me. and every time he would tease me i used to go deep into my shell. real deep. you know.

i played no sport. i never liked those boyish things like pinching each others asses, discussing sizes and all that.

i was sentimentally related more to the girls and to some boys who used to sit all alone. alone and aloof.

i dont even remember most of them. but this one i cant forget. i remember clearly there was this boy. he was my senior. he used to look into my eyes with great empathy. i didn’t know what those eyes said. i dont know what they meant. i cant even decipher what i felt.

was this love. was this a crush. i donno.

it’s all so difficult to describe, and even difficult to comprehend. i never spoke to him.

but,i saw a ray of hope in those eyes. wanted to cling on to him. but. i never saw him again.

those eyes left an imprint in my fragile mind. an everlasting imprint.
but. he was a phase. just a phase. a phase that phased out.

i was deserted. as always.

little things in life bestowed me with a lot of joy.

in school, we had a 30 minute period devoted to dance. boys used to have sports or craft then, but i stayed back and looked at the girls dancing bharatnatyam. unintentionally, unknowingly, i use to ape the girls and make mudras with my long artistic fingers.

the teacher noticed. she pulled me out. she asked me to dance with the girls.

i danced. i danced. i really danced.

this was a new beginning for me. i was very close to just one male friend in school. didn’t feel sexual or anything. not even remotely. just that, when you don’t have any male friend and you trust only one, you would absolutely love and adore him. i just didnt adore. i hero-worshipped him. i put him on a pedestal. i trusted him completely. he knew it all. i told it to him one day when in ninth standard. he said 'it happens'. i thought 'every one goes though similar abuse. else how would they know about sex'.
he was the only person who knew about my abuse.

but when i moved to college, i noticed, that one (not so fine) day that all my acquaintances (had no friends) knew about my abuse. how could they have?
(i don’t want to engage in any banter against him hence wouldn’t take names)
my heart wasn’t agreeing to believe that my friend was the reason, until he confessed that he did tell the world and had a kind of expression on his face which said ‘what’s the big deal haan’.

and soon there were college toilets adorned with graffiti that read: ‘for gay sex contact harish’ and things like that.

you know, people like to speak. especially, creative juices flow endlessly when the topic is sex or anything remotely related.

(they didnt know that children could be abused. or they did know but didnt accept, i fret when i realise that, now they must have become fathers, hope the ignorance was shortlived)

the earth for me was rotating in the opposite direction. but i was not gay then. i was not straight either. i was asexual.

i was teased again. again i was bullied. i tried eating pills to die.

but death doesnt come that easily for those who arnt happy enough that they crave to experience death.

i got up in the morning and thought that im dead and in heaven. but i was alive.

then again i tried. again i was alive.

and then again for the third time and i was alive again.

i don’t know how i survived. i don’t know why i didn’t try again. may be i just didn’t muster the courage. may be i was a coward.

i was very scared of dogs then, and my uncle (not the abuser) got home a german shepherd. i was so scared that the dog was behind me, my lungi was down and i was up the tree. but this boy (my four legged jimmy) was a real sweetheart. he used to lick my tears when i cried. i loved him. i took up animal rights. started speaking up for them. the boy who didn’t ever utter 'bastard'. started hurling flowery hindi abuses on fatherchods who ill treated animals.

i saw a new ray of hope in animal welfare.

i loved animals, but they loved me more than what i did, and that too, immensely and unconditionally.

i fought with parrot walas, people who ill treated their pet dogs and cats, vagaira vagaira. soon, i saw that people were scared of me. but more than that what gave me happiness was that i was being helpful to someone.

infact i need to share this with you.

you know, more than me jimmy was an animal lover. one rainy night he brought home two kittens that were drowning. one after the other.

he lifted them just the way a mother cat would lift her offspring.

i pasted him up thinking that he was eating them. only to realise that he was mothering them. he is and will be my inspiration. he could save a member of another species and mother them! he was beyond biology, people say he is a 'dog'. i agree, but if read, in the reverse.

he gave me the courage to say no. and yeah, i did say no. my uncle pounced on me. i pushed him and screamed. screamed like mad.

and he fled. he hasn’t touched me after that. i started living. started discovering myself. was in the quest of my own identity and to find answers to the questions that raged a battle in my head.

where do i head from here?

what is my sexual orientation?

like that.

this is an excerpt from my autobiography. it feels nice to write one. i will write it. i will have one ready to publish soon. how soon is soon.

thats one thing i donno. lol.


Wednesday, February 20, 2008

(AHAM part # 01) *CAUTION : EMOTIONAL TRIGGER* 'Aham' , Who Is Aham?

since many days i had been contemplating, contemplating to put the deep dark facts (cant call them secrets, the world knows about it, but yet they are deep they are very very personal) pertaining to my life, something that ive had the nerves to speak on international television, but yeah, took my time to type it here as i knew that this page has a high residual value and well, this is my mouthpiece .

as sheetal puts it, a blog should be a podium for self expression... rather than just for socialistic or creative endeavors,
righto sheetal!

let me begin with an incident this dates back to around the mid 80s, when a child of 6 so innocent.
went to have bath with his male relative - a 40+ man.
it was just another day for him.
he and this man were nude.
not a piece of clothing in either bodies,
the man gets close to the child and soaps him to rich lather and suddenly starts playing with the child’s penis.
the child didn’t know how to react. the child didn’t mind it.
guess it felt nice, though weird.
the man asks the child to do the same to him.
and the child obliges.

then the man teaches the child a new trick. he asks the child to suck his penis.
the child resents, as the child finds it distasteful.

now that’s not what the man would like. would he?
he forces his penis on the child’s mouth.
the child struggles.
the child moves off
and cries loudly.
the male relative scares the child and tells him that he will be killed and so will everyone in his family if he opens up to any one.
the child gets scared.
the guy asks him again to suck his penis.
the child obliges.

the bath is over.
the man spurts out a white liquid on the face of the child.
he gets scared looking at that.
he waits to run out of the bathroom and hug his aunt.
suddenly, there is a knock at the bathroom door...
'i will be back in a while' says the aunt.
the childs face turns pale.
and there is a twinkle in his male relatives eyes.
something that said 'baby the game has just begun'.
the child is lifted with a pair of lusty hands and pushed on the cot.
the man still nude, turns the child around and pushes his penis into the childs anus.
the child tries to scream in agony.
his mouth is gagged. tears flow through the childs eyes continuously.
until the tears dry.
the child surrenders to the pain.
he gives up his protest.
the child feels his anus with his hand.
and his hands get soiled in a red liquid.
the liquid is blood.

this is the beginning. just the beginning.
then, again and again, the child goes through the ordeal .
and this continued for 11 long years.

what do you think the child would've done?
would he have committed suicide?
taken to drugs?
become an alcoholic?
or turned an abuser himself?

well all your assumptions are wrong.

this child is living.
he is smiling.
he doesnt look for hope.
he is the hope.
he is giggling.
he remembers his painful past. it is a part of his being.
but looks at it as an opportunity to empathise with the pain of others who have been through similar chaos.

the child is writing this blog.
the child is me.
thats why i call myself aham.
'aham' because it is about the 'me' in me that i never realized for 11 years.
'aham' because if read in reverse, aham reads as 'maha' or humongous... that’s what the degree of my pain has been.

'aham' because i am proud.
proud of myself.
i feel blessed. i am living, not existing.

p.s. i am drained. sapped. reliving those memories isn’t easy. i will post more about this transformation brom an abused victim to a spirited survivor in parts.

i should confess though. that i feel relieved. though the abuse doesnt haunt me today.
but such unpleasant memories dont leave you that easily and whenever i remember it definatly depresses me.


Thursday, February 07, 2008

Who Owns Her

she was born in me. i was born in her. she is in me. and she is growing. she is bombay. my beloved.

im a tambrahm. can hardly speak marathi. so im scared. i fret. i fear.

i fear that id have to leave her. someday some so called 'son of her soil' will deprive me of her to impress a small section of people and thereby build an encashable votebank.

some are wise, whereas some - otherwise.

northindians were beaten up. cabbies were slapped. and the media was 'invited' to witness the agony of people running for life.

religion, caste, creed nothing mattered to mumbaites until now.

her spirit persisted. her empathy overflowed. she had no bias.
all were her's. she was all's.

but heres an attempt to change this for personal benefit. she is being raped. raped in the name of regional discrimination. her efforts to treat every one on equal ground is threatened by people who selfishly seek a higher ground.

mumbadevi, bom baia, bombay, mumbai... names change.

times change. values dont.

her resilience has been celebrated. she will pass through this phase too.

she belongs to someone who respects her and all who are within her. the ones who are making noise now and blowing their trumphets about being true mumbaites, with this act have proved that they are no way related to mumbai or the spirit of mumbai.


Wednesday, February 06, 2008

Let Her Be

life was a bed of roses

when i got up i realized the petals had withered

i ran to ask the plant for a new flower

the plant refused to breed

and i didn't allow the flower to seed

now i lie alone with a pot of thorns

wish i never had a bed of roses

i would've lived with my rose, by my rose, by my roses.


Tuesday, February 05, 2008

'Supposedly' Gay Party @ Yeoor Hills

80+ people caught partying. jailed. names flashed everywhere in news. the revered mumbai police has sprung in action and is all set to create hype and hoopla.
kudos mumbai police, i really appreciate you looking at general public as criminals. this is a real act of bravery. you should be awarded for this.

20 something sahil had publicised a party that he had organised in a gay dating site, he was wrong, he should have known that even though we live in a free country, we don't have the right to expression.

it saddens me when i realise that our law governers are engaging in malacious propaganda and are tom-toming about their 'catch'. sahil and group were arrested by the mumbai police for holding a supposedly gay party. this brings us to the big question... 'is it unlawful to be gay?'

lets look at the section 377 which 'supposedly' criminalises homosexuality.

unnatural sexual offenses:

whoever voluntarily has carnal intercourse against the order of nature with any man, woman or animal shall be punished with imprisonment for life, or with imprisonment of either description for a term which may extend to 10 years and shall also be liable for a term which may extend to 10 years and shall also be liable to fine.


penetration is sufficient to constitute the carnal intercourse necessary to the offense described in this section"

(the law actually elucidates that if someone is caught having anal/oral sex with his wife could be imprisoned for life. strange but true.)
so if these boys were gays who didn't indulge carnal intercourse. they should be spared. in short gays cant be cant be arrested because of their emotional state. it isnt a criminal offence to love a person of your same gender. and if the term to describe the immensity of love between two men is 'gay'.
so be it.


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