Friday, December 31, 2010

The Angel That Changed My Life in 2010

the Rain Man
My pari,

At the dusk of this year in which  you and I added each others names to our names,  and showered words and verses over each other generously,

 I thank you for giving me someone to believe in,
someone who is  there,
someone who calls me his own
...and is my own.
Someone who is a child to me
and a parent too.

I remember my want list was too long, and I wanted a boyfriend who is a staunch vegetarian, a bus-train traveler, someone who has “son of india” kind of emotions. And then I found you and fell for you knowing nothing about you actually.

Slowly the sepals opened and the flower bloomed, but not for a second did I think my life has doomed... Though you had it all that was a certain no-no in my list. (AIYOO!)
I love you beyond everything. And I love you so much.

But I love you not for anything, not because of any thing.
For if there is a reason, it is not love.

You know, funnily though, I have a long list of what I dislike in you. My list of likes is too short.

I know I fight with you often.
blame it on my upbringing,
my age.
I know there have been doubts that I have attacked you with.
For our thoughts are as different as chalk and cheese.

I trust you immensely, but am inquisitive about everything about you as would a toddler.
Pardon me if I tress pass, scold me if I repeat...
I wish to tell you this new year, that you are all that I wished I could have.
I know we live apart, but you are a part of my living.

Thank you for being the dawn of my life. This year and every year.
I wish to spend my life with you.
It may not be conventional. May be our relationship doesn’t have a name. But we could define it and make a new society, where man and man can live with love and be accepted and loved by everybody.

I don’t wish to show the world anything. But yes, we can make a difference to this world.

Remember the day you landed in Bombay from Chennai, I had a poster in my hand.. like a placard..
I ask you again... in front of this social site that it all started.

i have nothing to give you this new year... but have something to ask for ....

Will you marry me?

Monday, December 20, 2010

BlogCamp @IIT Bombay

happa! what an action packed weekend. saturday i was with some wilsonians speaking about child sexual abuse, and sunday ko blog camp. this was a sickly sunday, when i almost gave the blogcamp a miss. i sent messages to everybody saying that i might not join in. but dil toh bachha hai ji! and my dil was in iit, and wanted to be where the action was. i jhatpat popped in a few pills and rushed to iit bombay.

i jumped in the middle of the presentation and with my usual “rukhavat ke liye khed hai” style.

then i sat through all the presentations. there was so much about travel and tourism, for a second i thought i was sitting for an iata lecture.  i could hear giggles whenever the speaker spoke about “going down”... (uff! and i thought i was the pervert! lol ) jokes apart! the sessions were nice and with a lot of value. it felt nice to see everyone so enthusiastic to speak and share. and what preparation – wallah... powerpoint presentations and all. i am impressed. i liked the cartoon stuff that dashing andheriwala blogdost shared, (i want to put cartoons on my blog too. send me the website url na)  and there was talk about poetry- very very insightful i say...  there was something that the speaker spoke about - haiku... i have seen it doing its rounds in my timeline, but couldn’t make head or tail what it is. now i have some idea.. 

photograph chorried from vishal gakari's facebook album without his permission. 
ki karaa, control nahi hotta.

i spoke about sex and sexuality – (i mean- not porn stuff) but about child sexual abuse and how blogs are coming out of the closet. i mentioned about how i wrote a poem to my beautiful maa in law... and how my other half – parikshith knew all about me through my blog. i also mentioned about my quirky train tweets about how no one is amused or amazed when i tweet about finding a hottie in the train! it has become as common as someone spotting an item or a maal. optimist that i am, i believe, sooner or later, sexuality will become a nonissue. i mentioned about my spammeshwari dost chandni who spams for a cause and how she contributes to that also auto populates in my facebook and twitter. 

simply boleh toh.. had a fantastic time at the iit bombay blogcamp but i wished there were some studentlog from iit who were there as active participants too. it looked like we had rented the place... it would have been better if it was iit b who was actually organizing it and driving it.  khair, koi baat nahi... agle saal hi sahi... id love to watch students get into the organizer mode. 

i eagerly await the next blogcamp... you all are invited to join in.

faltu ka bhaav nahi khaaneka... gup chup aaneka. 

aayega toh welcome.. nahi toh bheed kam.

kaun kyaa bola about the experience... 

read here 

Vishal Gadkari: Facebook Photos

TechGreek Stuff: Facebook Photos

p.s. pardon my typos, and #grammargandu giri

Tuesday, December 07, 2010

wikileaks of india... radia tapes!

i eavesdropped into some interesting conversation while traveling by train. as usual i tweeted all along, this time it was too tempting to blog. this is the conversation between 2 students. they looked smart. and their conversation, smarter. 

student 1: who is barkha gate?

student 2: bill gate ki wife?

student 1: o! she is miranda, i thought. (cold drink??)

student 2: yaa yaa, she was, they divorced as bill spent all their money on charity. then he got married to barkha.

student1: so cruel this bill!

all through, i was wishing that one of them would burst into a laughter. but they did not. they were damn serious. call it the height of ignorance or just that we have been hearing and churning  so much bad news these days that no news seems that newsy.  

********     *******    ********     *******   ********     *******

it is gone buffalo in water (gayee bhains paani mein) for the hello hello janata of the upwardly mobile india.  this nadia gate aur red tape is real dimaag ko traas, now lets see how the scene changes -  
Nadia Ke Paar! 

but really 
the average joe isnt bothered about what gupshup she has with tata or bata, what bothers him is the rise in the cost of batata.
and all the media badshaahs who were shunned or stunned by the uprising of the Dutt will be singing... "barkha raani... zara cham ke barso"
we the tweeple, have given a tough time to the young anchorni of "we the people".

i continue to love her, but mind not a joke or two about her. (peace, if you are reading this.. pls know barkha, i love you. and respect you)
barkha's online avataar took a paradigm shift from "Alice in wonderland" to "malice in blunderland"
 ... thanks to flop flick
"telecom rights and radia tapes"
"barkha ka insaaf!" seems like the season 2 of "raja ki jaayegi baraat"... wonder if in third season she will be with rajat sharma in "NDTV ki Adalat"

and manu joseph the kartha dharta of open,  gets ready to give takkar to the WikiLeaks .. with an indian version
well, open magazine is the wikileaks of india... (or is it vice versa?)
********     *******    ********     *******   ********     *******

when barkha rani cried "why me" there were others with whom telephone aunty (radia) chatted naa....manu uncle said "maybe it is because you are so pretty.”...

that is the "Hadd Kardi aapne" of Indian Television... Barkha should have given him one jor ka jhaapad then. 

but guess
the zhakmi aurat kept quite about the media havarat attacker because she knew he was making a fool of himself with that "tongue-in-wherever" comment.

suggest vipaasna for Barkha... let her vanish into the snow capped himalayas for a while.  

people have forgotten 26/11 barkha is which mooli of which khet then.. 

there is no issue.. here  people have memories like aamir in gajani, so when she could wake up in a while and come back like priya tendulkar of the famous rajni.
********     *******    ********     *******   ********     *******

wondered what sells more... jawaani ya badnaami... 

badnaami wins hands down...hai naa?

Monday, December 06, 2010

you lead, i'll follow

i did not let you flow.
i chained your stream,
and froze your dream. 

i said i would come along,
but left the duet
alone you were left to sing alone your couplet.

i hate myself now,
that i realize how wrong i was.
i see your crushed maps, and i realize i am the cause.

i wish i could have mellowed,

i wish i could have asked you to not kill your route...
i wish you fought with me, and called me brute. 

but you followed me,
like the sunflower does the source of the day.
blindfolded yourself, entrusted and trusted me with the decision of your way...

i may have to walk a mile,
to reach, without refrain,
i wish i could reach too, and sustain... 

don’t crush your maps for me...
please direct the way,
i have lived my life, now i wish to live it your way...

make me a way...
dont blindly follow mine. 
just keep your hand on my shoulder and see me shine. 

but remember my other half,
to be with you, i long,
for to without you, i just don't belong... 

it scares me
to see your river so shallow...
now you lead, i shall follow

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

pregnant with you!

hey little child 
my little wonder inside me, 
did you tremble, did you get scared 
of what you did not see?

you and your emotions 
are no more light,
hug me tight, 
in this scary night...

let me feel your claws 
inside my waist,
as i run and run, 
with you within..
in this mad race...

i know when 
you grow out of me,
you will be the cutest thing 
for the world to see...

for now but, 
you stay quiet,
the moon has 
come over the night...

the sun has also set, 
through my navel 
can you see,
the setting sun, the rising moon and the starry purple canopy.

tonight be quiet, 
tonight dont you scream,
for today tomorrows begin, 
and life takes a new stream...

you are the little child in me, 
let me shower all the warmth today, 
before you see the light of the whole damn world,
and the world see you in the fake glitter of the day. 

let me feel my stomach, your forehead, 
let me feel my ribs, and hold your arm, 
let me feel the child in me, 
so serene, so pleasant and so calm...

tomorrow when you are born, 
to me, in our lovelorn bombay, 
i shall steal you away, 
to the shine in the glory of just my way. 

sleep baby, 
sleep today, 
let me sing you a lullaby, 
in me today, 

i wish to kiss you now, 
but for my face cant reach below my chest,
i long to kiss you and 
feel you on my breast,

i know you can see 
what i can see,
so time to close my eyes, 
and baby see yourself as i look at my mirror, 
and see my fairy, 
my pari!

Sunday, November 14, 2010

really Donno Y... Na Jaane Kyun!

my review cross posted from pink-pages
The film had excellent PR… coupled with the human angle with the trigger created by the fact that the lead actor – Yuvraj was ostracized from his family for portraying a bisexual character in Donno Y… Naa Jaane Kyun. I should say, that I had several preconceived notions about the film – All Negative.
DONNO Y… NAA JAANE KYUN is a film with myriad complex stories… and one simple message. The film is set to raise many brows for it shakes your conscience as it takes you through the rigmarole of relationships
The protagonists of the film are two male characters. Kapil and Yuvraaj (forget their screen names). Yuvraaj is a family man, married to Rituparna Sen, and has a daughter with her. They seem a happy Anglo- Indian joint family. But when one looks closely they can discover several cracks in relationships.
I wouldn’t want to reveal the entire screenplay of the film here in the name of criticism, but will throw light on several points that stir an emotional chord in the film. Zeenat Aman who plays Yuvraaj’s mom in the film is shown as a single woman who cootchie-coos with her boss to pataao him to fund her children’s bicycle or the Christmas party. She has a monster-in-law, the evil saas (played by Helen) who gossips about her daughter-in-laws affairs with nosy neighbors. While we brand her as the insensitive gossip monger, we suddenly see her standing up for Zeenat when her boss calls her a slut. She stands up for her daughter-in-law and shoos away the incorrigible sex-maniac by telling him that she knows what Zeenat does to fulfill her children’s’ dreams but his wife doesn’t know of his sexual explorations and she would not stoop to his level by informing her about his waywardness.
Another high point is when the happily married Yuvraaj gets into a relationship with Kapil. I know the excellent naked pics of Yuvraaj and Kapil are doing their rounds creating orgasmic pleasure for our eyes that are left lusting for more, the center point of the film is not the scenes that are mercilessly cut by moral guardians in our censor boards, the highlight is that for the first time ever, a gay couple is seen on the Indian screen doing stuff more than just sex, like feeding puppies… gifting each other… or casually conversing about life and romance. Kapil breaks his relationship with Yuvraaj as he decides that Yuvraaj should live with his family and should not two time. Kapil is a model-turned-hooker-turned lover who turns back to his hookergiri after Yuvraaj leaves him.
Meanwhile, Rituparna almost runs away with her brother-in-law Maradona after sleeping with him, but decides to stay back with Yuvraaj at the nth minute. So Yuvraaj and Rituparna become family, while the akela-bechaara Kapil sluts his way to the top of the Bollywood line.
Though, as I said the film has several tracks, where even Kabir Bedi, who happens to be Zeenat Aman’s husband, emerges from the oblivion and gains acceptance slowly slowly in the Anglo Indian household.
Though the relationships ka much-much is a little too much. I feel the film needs to be applauded for its script which is what got all the top-notch actresses from the Kal and Aaj of Bollywood to sign up for this film. What’s beautiful in the script is that it doesn’t show a daughter-in-law who sluts around as the “witchy-bitchy-slutty-savitri”.. it doesn’t pass a moral judgement but leaves you empathizing with a bisexual who sleeps with his boyfriend and his wife… it doesn’t justify or crucify the wife who sleeps with her brother-in-law… and of course, it asks you to accept the present and pardon the past with Kabir Bedi who returns to the family when he is struck with terminal cancer. That’s what is lovely in the film.
So, is this film all good and will it be India’s official entry to Oscars? Is this THE Brokeback Mountain of India??? MADDDOWATT… this film is no close to any Brokeback Mountain. The performances are very unreal, including the ones by stalwarts like Zeenat and Helen are very nautanki type. Kapil and Yuvraaj, I wonder why you guys had to make this an English language film. The film is a perfect #GrammarGandu (twitter slang for incorrect grammar). There are several gadbad gotaalas in English.. but if you have the sense of humour, you will laugh it out like I did. There are several overtly emotional scenes, where you could rather ROFL over the English, than cry or empathize. The scene where Kapil tells Yuvraaj “First you are AN husband” had me biting my lips in control my laughter. Aiyyo Aiyooo Aiyoo! Also, though I will be killed for stating this as in our country we don’t question human gods.. the track by Lata Mangeshkar is boring and ludicrous. I think there are some people who should very royally retire. Lata should retire in her best, for it is an undisputed fact that she is one of the best voices in Asia.
All said, and all done. You should watch this film. For the guts and gumption of Kapil Sharma and Yuvraaj… WOW. Though the debate of which is the first gay kiss on Indian screen will go on and on. The film needs to be watched by one and all for you don’t get to watch films that are bold and non judgmental. This isn’t a gay film. It is a film about relationships where one track is about a gay guy and a bisexual guy. Complex relationships are explored in this film.. bisexuality, homosexuality, promiscuity, just wish they got a lesbian angle too… then sone pe suhaaga. Here’s my own twist and additions to the script. How about getting Zeenat in love with a girl-next-door?… it would have been a museum-film with all sexual flavours naa. Wallah!

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

My Anadi in Kannadi!

Im so fucked up at times. Trying to understand my trying emotions that often go haywire… has never been easy. And you are responsible for this. You are bloody responsible for this!

I mean, I was a nice boy. A nice seedha-sadha TamBrahm from the new of bombay. And see what you have done to me! See what you have done.

I remember three days before Independence Day this year that I met you and lost my independence forever. O I remember, that night that I was criss-crossing around in the gay lanes of a dating -mating site and I found you. you seemed so different. You had your whole CV put up on a dating site. Aiyyo! I thought, you had real balls. Like I do. Unapologetic about what you are born as. Then we chatted over the phone. It was shocking to know that you were a southie too. And a tam. And a brahm. And a chemburkar. Happpa! Too much I say! I quickly started drawing family trees in my mind. Aden Gappa… so wonderful it would be to know that one of my cousins was gay. And “out” out there. Id love to retort when some crazy atthai /chottai of mine says “aiyyo! you do boy-boy”.. with a candid “It is your gene’s coy-ploy”. Wallah!

I decided to meet you for a decent cup of coffee. And no hanky-panky. I was waiting at vashi station, close to the ticket counter. And there you stood… kaan mein jhumka.. chaal mein thumkaa.. types. I still remember that anadi in kannadi, wearing some crazy thing on his wrist. You were yapping away to glory intellectually over the phone. Like a zygotic hybrid of bappi lahari and jumpa lahari. You then kept your phone and started talking to me. And mashhallah! In less than ½ an hour you shared your akhaa khandaan ka details. I thought you have your screw dheela. Then I thought about how I used to start ranting about the ifs and buts of my life, to any stranger… with dew filled eyes… full of hope… you almost had shamelessly taken over the emotions that I so fondly had a copyright on. HUH!
we dined and decided to take a walk in the straight lanes of vashi in the dead of night. We walked from one gully to the other, from cross roads to dead ends, from foot paths to man holes. I remember I was so engrossed that I hit a lamp post and had a bleeding toe. Inside I was going aiyyo aiyyo.. outside I was smiling and yapping with the yapping you. That dud of a thing, were you. 22 years young. And I the fataaka at 31. Soon I realized age is a matter of the mind, it doesn’t matter if you don’t mind.  We walked chumma chumma over the streets…  and we did no chumma-chaati. I looked at his lips and his beauty spot. But nothing lustily. Guess, we cant “lust”ify  and justify everything. 

In the middle of this beautiful night that I was spending with you, Platonically. Under the lonely moon that was just out of the cocoon, came a screeching noise of my mom. She had the dinner ready and wanted to sleep. i had to bid good bye to you and rush home. You said, I will follow me till my house. I wondered in my mind, that is to much illaiyya? … for a 22 year old tamil pullai to be so late out with a 31 year old ghabru jawaan… it was some 12:15 or so. You came to khandeshwar station. I stood there, with you. we were late. Real late. You had to head back to your  chembur. I offered taking you home. But inside inside, wondered what I would tell my parents.  The police uncle, I asked “last gaadi kitne bajje ki hai”… and it was a train to belapur.  Aiyyo. Calculations started in my Tam Brahmish  mandaiii.   The taxi meter was speeding in my mind. I thought “how will a young boy spend so much to go by cab from belapur to chembur” … I asked you if you had money. And you said yes.  

Then you left. And I kept thinking on my way to home…. Thinking why I am thinking so much.. about some stupid mad fellow whom I know just since a few hours.  I thought it was love. Then I thought no way. Then I thought I wish to adopt a child like him. And then I thought no. 

And fuck! And fuck! And fuck! My first thought should have been my  last thought.. for that lasts forever. 

I was a nice boy... and now am mad. mad in looov

 here is glossary 
Kannadi = spectacles
Aden Gappa = O my god!
Tam Brahm = tamil brahmin
illaiya = isnt it? 
pullai = boy

Tuesday, October 19, 2010

games people play...

the hazaar karod balloon at the opening of the common wealth games did manage to shift our focus from kalmadi who was chewing india like he would some bubble gum.  

but it sure scared the shit out of the chief ministerni, when our desh was rangeela, peela peela was our sheila...

no wonder while the world was waking up to glory of india, sheila was busy singing " you are my sonia"... sitting baaju-baaju with the mrs. of gandhi.

here in bombay, (oopsie - mumbai)... all are hand in hand .. big boss and candyfloss.. devi, devil and the wohs... with added attraction by sena's who never shy from showing their "mard taange wala" attitude and press the trigger with no agar magar. Big boss is definitely tempting... we love gupshup about love sex and dhokha, more than we love "love or sex".. here voyeurism gives us more orgasms than what an human organism would.

our land is ripped and raped... by the goons of our world... and lust is the reason... the sole reason... the lust for money for one, and the lust for power. one uses violence, other balloons.

as they look into the matter,
the other critical matters get overlooked.

coming to games...

our gajnified memory... benefits our kalmadi, our modi...
unkaa game nahi bajjega.

game khatam paisa hajam!
it soon will be another case of "khao khujao batti bhujao"

in our country, we have seen so much keeda- kaandi- that we can easily forget, forgive and enjoy another kalmadi.

Saturday, October 16, 2010

...Care To Share

crossposting my column in  PINK PAGES - the premier LGBTI webzine. 

It was a crazy summer afternoon. I was out on a movie date with a friend…a friend who I knew since the past 3 months. I picked corner seats, the cozy ones, aloof from the rest of the crowd. Our intentions were definitely not noble. Within a while, the lights went off, the screen was lit and the Dolby was on. My hands touched his, and we exchanged a kiss. His hands moved over my body and I ran my hands over his. He suddenly got scared. He jolted, he shook and he stormed out of the theater. I followed him out. He was crying in the corner next to the popcorn stall. I went over to him. Hugged him, looked into his red eyes and understood something was indeed wrong. I didn’t know what to say to him. I did not want to say the wrong thing and cause him more pain. I was scared. I thought it was my provocation that was the reason behind his tears. I watched him in despair and did not know what I should do to show that I cared. I did not say a word, just held his hand…and did not let go of it till he spoke to me. He continued weeping profusely and I just watched him in the dumbness and stillness of loud silence.
He gave me a tight hug and drowned his head in my chest as if he was hiding from the rest of the world. He and I sat gazing at the moon, letting our silences speak. After a long pregnant pause he delivered his first words “thank you”. I acknowledged with a nod. He smiled. Took a deep breath and started speaking. And now, he was speaking as if he was possessed. He wasn’t bothered of who was watching him cry and swear. He turned pages of his life backwards, to reach the age of 8. He was at home then with his aunt. Alone with his aunt. His parents had gone for an overnight wedding. They were to return only the following day by noon. His aunt, a young 20 something, college going girl, thought it was the perfect opportunity to call her friends’ home for a party. She called a couple of her friends and asked them to get booze and cigarettes. They came and the music was set blaring. The smoke engulfed the room. My friend, the little boy, was introduced to all his aunts’ friends then was asked to go and sleep in the room. The time passed, and the boy slept oblivious to understand what was happening in his house. As he slept the volume of the music blared. At unease, he woke up in the dead of the night. He walked in the darkness to the loo. He passed by the Hall where he found his aunt getting cozy with her friend. He came back from the loo and when he was on his way to his bed. He was stopped by one of his aunts’ female friends. She was scantily dressed. She lowered her cleavage and asked him to touch ‘it’. He detested. He was scared, but he obliged. She kissed him and went naked in front of him and she felt him up too. He dint know what was happening. But he just knew that he was not feeling nice about it. That little child had an irreplaceable dent in his mind forever. He grew away from the girls in his class. He never liked the idea of marriage. He always spent time lost with himself…he grew up to be an introvert loner.
When he had his first night fall, he was furious and curious at the first feel of sperm. Furious, because he thought he had some female disease and had started milking from the wrong side. And he was dead curious about what was happening to him and in him. Days passed, the issue recurred. He woke up spending time and life in the closet of silence. He wondered why he got aroused thinking of his classmate who happened to be of his gender. While his friends always talked of and stalked girls in the neighbouring school, he would spend time ogling at boys. He found endless joy in just being with that special boy in his class. The days he would get to sit beside him, when his leg would touch his and the days when he would get a chance to brush on him just with no one actually knowing of his innermost feelings…these were the days he would very eagerly look forward to. He was happy on one end, and on the other he was scared and troubled. He had no one to share his feelings. He thought he was different, sometimes he thought he was cursed. He felt special for his classmate, and called him his “best friend”. He went from school to college, and they continued to be classmates till graduation. It was at graduation that his classmate started dating a girl. And he felt completely left out. He woke up to the existence of his sexuality amid devastation of losing his beloved eternal classmate, his best friend to a girl. Best friend is many-a-times, though not always, the nick for a crush, especially when language and understanding is challenged. Like we see in movies, in frustration and the undying urge to find himself and be himself he found refuge in alcohol. He thought his instinct towards men was because of his sexual abuse in the growing years. He was in a state of ambivalence, a state where he wanted to have sex with men and also had a feeling of extreme aversion towards it.

My friend hugged me and cried. For a long time. He confessed to me that meeting me and getting cozy was just because of the similar past of child sexual abuse that we had experienced, something that I was open and candid about. And this was something that actually prompted him to share one of his worst kept secrets with me who was just a couple of chats old. Thereon, I met up with him, everyday. Not to judge or to preach or to support him. Not by kind words or the usual “see positivity all around you” talk, but just by listening. I realized pain is such a binder. And listening is an art. Glad I could listen. That was one of my first memories of counselling… by chance though. Sharing makes a lot of difference…sharing of tears, sharing of joy. I call it the “flint stone effect”. Though not everyone can come ahead and speak openly about their bad childhood experiences, the ones who can, if they would, it would help someone find that one friend who serves as a flicker of hope.

…the hope to find oneself in this quest and to realize the power of Aham – the “me”.

Saturday, October 02, 2010

love is praying!

don’t worry, don’t you cry,
this distance is a moment,
this too will silently pass by. 

when the wind is blowing,
sometimes too hard!
when your shadows are
yet so near, yet so far.
i am near.
with you dear.

feel my breath,
feel me wet.
my tongue my lips,
between your teeth that are kept. 
close your lips,
trap me in.
hear my beat,
let’s do the sin. 
feel my palm
over your hair,
feel my heart
beat in despair.
in a night so young,
with a moon over blown.
let the bed get drenched in our sweat,
shut it's eyes and hear us moan.

let me touch your hip,
and take a dip.
while you take a sip,
of my lip.

let me die this moment,
let me be born.
lets wake up beside,
and wish the night was long.
let us grow long,
let us grow along.

why do you shy,
why are you sad and scared…
you aint dirty,
i aint bad,
our today’s needn’t have our yesterday’s clad.

we are still as pure as dove,
no matter how many we have loved, 

or with made love. 

love is but not about bodies preying
it is our bodies,  where love is praying!

i could, if need be, wait longer…
distances make hearts grow fonder… 

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

your son and me are... 'we'

when i heard you maa.
i was really scared.
i dint know what to do,
im sure I sounded bizarre.  

that little day, maa,
with your little son,
i managed to entice him towards me,
using my love as the  binding ribbon.

i have met him just twice maa,
but couldn’t dare to say it then,
only when he left maa,
i missed and wished he would return.

then i lifted the phone one day, maa
and bared my heart to him,
my tongue and lips trembled maa,
i fluttered  like a netted fish with a trapped  fin. 

he said in the same tone,
over the phone
i was vision-less i found sight,
i had no wings, but i had flight.

then we walked a little further,
we stumbled, we had a fall,
but we held on to each other,
gained our feet, we now walk tall.

you know what maa,
it’s just barely been  over a month,
but to spend my life with maa,
i choose your little son.

i don’t know how you would feel,
for  you and i are just a phone call old.
but i simply love your genes maa,
the way they grow and mold. 

i know its not conventional maa,
your son and i cant be man and wife.
but more than that maa,
we’d redefine our world with all that’s kind and nice.

i want you to know maa,
that i will love your little part, till the end.
i know there exist none that are known maa, 

we will set the trend.

i could have sent you a private mail maa,
but this is our world, and it should know
that i will not just cow and bow,
if it is love, i will show!

so be it. be it so.

love you maa.

saasu maa!

lol. :) love you maa. 

Child Sexual Abuse - A Reality

Mentioned below is an article that I was published in Free Press Journal. Thanks to my friend Ketan.


Innocence is a virtue that children are naturally endowed with. But what if it is violated? What if they grow older than their age? What if they have known and seen much more pain and trauma in their childhood than what some people do in an entire lifetime. Such is the issue of Child Sexual abuse, where children make friends with darkness and silence, sometimes forever.

I have been through it, but today have put it in my past and moved forward. Today I speak of it openly and brazenly embrace the many truths that were lost in the ebb of silence. I was just in primary school when I was sexually abused. The abuser was a close male relative of mine. He used to give me a bath often. My family didn’t object, as they didnt think there was anything objectionable in someone giving me a bath at that age. And one of these days when we were naked in the bathroom, he demanded that we have oral sex. I refused, and wanted to run away, he gagged me and then what followed was 11 years of continuous mental, physical and sexual abuse, from the age of 7 till 18.

Dipika Lal, a documentary film maker, directed a film on the issue of child sexual abuse, aptly titled “Speak Up! It’s Not Your Fault”. This student graduate film of hers touched upon the issue of Child Sexual Abuse in depth and also won the best student documentary award at the Kashish International Film Festival. The documentary featured her speaking about the trauma that she went through as a child. The perpetrator was her tutor. He was respected and no one suspected that he could be involved in this ghastly crime. He would touch and ‘feel’ her inappropriately often under the pretext of teaching. She was too small to understand what was happening. She didn’t complain to anybody. 

Nicholas (name changed) was raised by a single mother. His father expired in a car accident, when he was very young. He also lost his little brother to the same accident. His mother appeared to have coped up psychologically from this huge trauma, but this was far from the truth. Nicholas is 23 now, and his mother still treats him like he used to treat his toddler brother. She has been giving him a bath every day as one would a young child, from the age of 10. Nicholas faced serious issues with respect to relations. He feels overtly sexual towards woman and at times gets panic attacks and suicidal thoughts due to his incestuous feelings towards his mother. Both mother and son underwent counseling to deal with the issue

We are just 3 examples of people who have now come to terms with the issue of child sexual abuse and have managed to put our past in the past and move forward. We don’t mind sharing our stories as we have dealt with the monsters of our past and understood the importance of sharing. Deepika, Nicholas and I are confident individuals who are now successful in our own right and understand that sharing is perhaps the only way to create awareness. Until then, such issues will always be considered a myth. Or as something that happens in “their” house, but never could happen in “ours”. It is important that people who can speak up, speak up for the cause. Those willing to share their stories should do so, so that this myth of child sexual abuse being an alien phenomenon could be washed by the realm of reality. Child sexual abuse is not restricted to any class, caste, creed or gender. It is a myth that child sexual abuse is more common in low income groups and that the girl child needs to be protected, whereas the boy can take care of himself. More often, child sexual abuse is about power play as much as it is about sadistic sexual pleasures. The abuse needn’t always be physical or painful; even verbal (erotic blabber) and visual abuse (exposing ones private parts or showing porn to a child) is tantamount to child sexual abuse.

Chandni Parekh, a social psychologist is involved in designing modules and conducting workshops that ensure that the child is educated about sexuality. She accentuates the need for trained counselors to help affected children deal with the trauma. Speaking specifically about the lack of psychological support systems she says “Most schools grapple with not knowing how exactly to deal with a child sexual abuse case. Many counselors too feel ill-equipped to work with such issues since their Master's programme does not really address trauma work. Several schools are unaware of the NGOs that work on the issue of CSA in their city or of the bunch of psychologists in Bombay that started an intensive study circle to specialise in trauma healing.
Besides trauma healing, being a survivor myself, I understand that had I been aware of what was happening to me and my body I would have been able to muster the courage to say a firm “NO” earlier and save myself more years of youth. But I had no sex education in school until I joined college and was taught reproductive biology, as is the case with many children. 

Chandni agrees with the need for sex education. She asserts “If we continue to disallow sexuality education by withholding information about sex and the possibility of sexual abuse, as well as information about reproduction and disease, we put all children at risk. Refusing to talk about sex does not mean that children are safe, that nothing bad will happen to them. Only by opening up the discussion about sex, and beginning to talk to children from a young age will we ever be able to protect them from abuse. Ultimately, it will only be when sex and sexual abuse are commonplace topics of conversation will perpetrators be held accountable. Only then will our society ever truly be able to prevent one of the most traumatic things that a human being can experience.

Indeed, there are some secrets that are best hushed in the closets or under the carpet. Sex abuse isn’t one of those. There is an urgency to give up our myopic views about sex and Speak Up. How many cases of child sexual abuse would it take for us to realize that closets are most comfortable, but not one of the safest places to be in…
Let’s break the silence and speak up!

For more information on child sexual abuse, and how you could protect/ counsel your child, please visit

read the article here

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