Silly things...

Bojh

2008-08-17T23:05:00.003-04:00

Bolo mere saath ik raat jo beeti ke abb tum dil ka ek hissa bann chuke ho. Iss ehsaas se main tumhare paas pohncha, iss sach ke saath per tumne mujhe isska mol nahee diya. Buss dard, buss berukhi.

Tumhari wajah se nahee, buss abb apni wajoohat aur apne masahil main ghir kar maine faisla ker liya hai ke buss, abb aur nahee. Buss. Nau saal pehle shuru hui yay kahani abb daire main gol ghoomti ussi mod pe aake ruk gayee hai aur sochta hoon kya karoon - kya daire main gol ghoomta rahoon ya ankhen khol ke apni zimmedariyon ko pehchanoon. Ke abb zyada der baaqi nahee. Armaanon ka galla ghonton to zindagi kaisi? Per yoonhee jeeta rahon to mustaqbil kaisa? Na tehzeeb ko thukra sakta hoon, na ehsaasat ko. Ye mera bojh hai.

Motherly Love

2008-07-28T21:56:00.003-04:00

We did in ways agree to be apart for fear of intimacy. In times of need, I fled you and then you called me but little did I know that you were genuine. I saw in the darkness of your room, watchful, pensive. As I watched you toss and turn in uncomfortable drowsiness, I pondered over the choices. It is true what she said about being emotionally distant. I suppose that's the plague of our generation - anything goes. But the truth is, I miss you. Yeah, the truth is that I miss you so.

New York. Mr Black. Pre-drug-raid days. He showed up with his friend, dirty martini and then there was me. Why did I look after him? Why not put on selfish airs like the rest of them, like his friend, the one who lost all morals... we can never be friends. Twenty five. Who really cared? A couple. And now, as I dial and the responses alude me. What can it be when need? Come on in, I've gotta tell you what I state I'm in, I've gotta tell you in my loudest tone.

For what is this life? For me, I know. But I can't live it in isolation. I can't live it surrounded by people who don't give a fuck, can I? He was right, I'm caught in the middle, among those who care and do not accept and among those who don't care and do not accept. I accept but am not accepted. Here. Simple. Restrain.

J'ai change d'avis.

Not Glucklich

2008-06-13T11:32:00.003-04:00

Look at me - unfortunate child of the world, in a land of vast riches, a city where dreams are manufactured, jetting from place to place, soaring high, it is your dream, it is their dream. Yet in the shadows I do creep where I seek solace, a moment or two, alone. And on that plank that juts out into waters deep and dark, there were many in moments intimate but all in public they ravaged each other. And then there were we, distance maintained. I do not hold such feelings for you but it is inside me that I hold the deepest pain, sorrow without bound. This I say to myself, you have someone else's dream - not your own, my love. But I have tried - like a drowning person struggling to stay afloat, I have thrashed my arms wildly in these rough waters. To no avail. I don't drown, I'm not saved. I remember her words - like a good little girl, I just want to be held and loved. Such is my plight in gaining acceptance in the world. Love me, cruel world, love me. Without it, I will be lost, unable to love myself. So love me.

Une lettre à mon amant

2008-05-02T15:39:00.002-04:00

Mon cheri,

I've blamed you for all you've done, I've detested you for your fickleness, and yet everytime to me you've come, I've let you in without restraint. You feel not the way I do, for you have done some wrongs unto me, by my expectations, maybe not by yours.

And now the time has come to say goodbye, for I would not had I stayed but I fly away, yet again, the pattern that repeats in my life. I meet you now, not to hold you once again but to end this - whatever it was - on good terms. You didn't measure up to what I wanted you to be and you came to me only to fulfill your needs. But hey, you never promised me any more and here I was, enacting a romantic night in a french restaurant with portuguese music and wine. It was my folly that I've now realized that though I cut the cord between us, I wish to see you again comme un ami. You weren't what I'd wanted but you gave me hope, a shining glimpse at what may have been. I hope you will remember how we were but who knows. After all, you are like all of them. Again, you never promised not to be. It was all me, me, me.

Goodbye. With me I take this gift of tender memories, of you and I, in bed, where you gave all, by holding my hand through the night and everytime we let go, you grasped it again with the same vigour with your heated palm. Adieu.

Postmortem

2007-11-13T19:37:00.000-05:00

This restlessness has grown, has grown past the bounds I'd set for it. Death to the soul, they chant. It's like the spiritual realm has come back to haunt me. Ghosts, deathly white, appear in my dreams. I've devoted fond memories to you. On the beaches of Brazil, I remembered you. Like a vision. And I fed a starving being whose gratefulness overcame me, overcame desire. There he was, withered, withering. There they were, vultures, perched, waiting, scoping the situation. Junior, Michael, Cassio, Edison, Jeffery, Rafael, countless others. Now they are a haunted memory.

I search, gasping, taking in gulps of air. He branded me the toughest of the tough but I think I'm unworthy of the title. Perhaps I will just go to Canada. Again and again will I go back to that I have left behind me. I'm confused about where home is. Home has split into several. Everywhere I go, they ask me where I'm from. Yes, I can marry you. Mary.

I can't believe a year has passed like a whirlwind. I went back and he had not a word to say. You may return, c'est tout. Of all my past loves, the Belgian was the cruelest, the least genuine. He was also the one I latched onto like a leech, unforgiving. Leave him be, they said. I clung on, for his mother, for his sanity, a saviour, always a saviour.

But tell me this. Once I've saved you, restored you to health, what do you do? You take flight and shit on my head.

And then on the one year and two day anniversary, I saw a vision. Perhaps it was a sign. It reminded me the Universe appreciates me. But it was stolen from me as quickly as it was offered to me. It took flight to rest with the Angels, Mary, Austin, El Salvador, from this country.

The Turks offered not much besides polite introductions, the Iraqis were too taken by themselves, the French - well, what can I say? Canadians, they were stuck in eternal humiliation for being Canadian. And I wondered what I'd have to offer to the Universe to get this in return. Bring to me - something, something more. I read in a tale well known how I must heed the omens. Am I? South America beckons yet I remain, perched, wise, cautious.

And then he died. He took with him hope, he took with him more of her dying laughter, he took with him the purpose of an old woman. He left with me fear, fear of my fate, fear of old age, fear in which I sit and it consumes me.

Why?

2007-01-02T23:16:00.000-05:00

I am not restless but I'm still waiting for the phone to ring. I'm less emotional and more curious which is quite unlike me. I haven't conjured a billion scenarios but I'm still thinking of it enough to write about it. They say that you shouldn't focus on it too much - things have a way of working out. This is an argument for destiny. They also say you should be more assertive - you never know when you might miss on an opportunity. This is as argument for freedom of choice. Conflicting advice, that's not a first. When someone discusses something of the nature with another person, their first instinct is to comfort him/her. But I don't need comforting. I'm just curious dammit! My life hasn't come to a halt. In fact, there isn't even a dent in my life but still I wonder why...

In the winter mist, I looked for answers, surrounded by tall buildings and tourists. I walked in and I walked out - twice! It was like being enclosed in a bubble - I didn't let anyone in, I didn't want to. And it was immensely therapeutic. After the disaster that was pre new year's eve, last night was splendid. I got some much-needed tranquility in a city where it's impossible to find. And slowly, unrealistic fantasies of desert vacations grew distant and I began to thrive once more in the pulsating, energetic metropolis also known as el centro del universo - my new home.

In the New Year...

2007-01-01T11:02:00.000-05:00

In the new year, I give up. Just looking at this lovely photo of dusk from little over a year ago fills me up with memories, a face marked with hope. I remember this time last year, I had a cat licking my scalp as I lay next to the corpse watching the stoned couple make out to Mentirosa. This new year's was different. I had a lot more time by myself. I shut myself up in the solitary apartment away from all the excess and reflected on things. I dreamed of running away to the desert, an endless sea of pure sand in every direction. Beauty in simplicity, dehydrated under the cruel Saharan sun, sand being blown into my mouth and eyes. Yes, I'd take that over the crowds. But I can't take time off or I would grab my passport and make a mad dash for the airport. But in the new year, I must wait. Patience is key. In the new year, I shall forge allegiances, with the city, with the people, blend in though they tell me it takes 10 years to fully assimilate. But I've never cared much for titles, nor for people who like creating exclusive clubs. I speak with conviction yet I know not what to expect of the new year. I'm confused by the cruelty of kind people who point out what they know plagues you and discard you when one they deem has more merit is near. Yet they are the ones who shower you with gifts and take you places and remember you when you most need it.

Hmmm... I need to hear something positive so today's goal is to go see a fortune teller to see what the new year holds for me.

Homecoming

2006-12-20T08:29:00.000-05:00

It felt like a homecoming though I've never been there before, a strange comfort I haven't felt in weeks. I was quiet. I was myself. I felt no need to litter my personality avec des petites choses pour sembler plus intéressant que je suis. Car je suis... Khair, a late night ride in a solitary train put me in a more melancholy mood. The train that chugged for me as I lamented for her loss and for my... inability to find... I took flavour pills and concocted elaborate fantasies of Greek getaways in the Scottish Isles and Christmas trees lined with fudge and thin crooked chapatis. In the midst of the mob, I came to my senses and felt a little better until I came home to realize that I've already placed more and more barriers around myself. I promised myself I wouldn't. I think now of the weekend. I've been exiled, forbidden to return although I'd wanted to and I'll walk around wearing socks with holes looking for the tiniest shred of acceptance there where none will be found. I've only worn them a few times but there's already a hole in one. I want to go home to him... mon amour, le seul that I can call that. But slowly, I begin to realize that if I were to go, I'd have to leave home to go home for I have more than one.

A Silence Broken

2006-12-16T04:40:00.000-05:00

5 am. Just returned home. No sight of dawn. It's a dark, dark night. The cruel Atlantic wind has subsided, there's an upswing in moods. The city has embraced me and taken me under its wing. Crowds too have diminished and I finally have room to walk which pleases me greatly. A new bonding is occurring - like a rebirth, positive energy. Yet one plague remains... 'twas there, 'tis here. Ah, just fuck it! I'd rather not discuss the bloody subject

Por un beso...

2006-11-30T22:35:00.000-05:00

There he was making the case for touch, much needed, much feared. In awe, I walked, clouded with misconception, perceptions getting clearer by day, the greatest city on earth. They claim there's harshness here. There is. But there's also tolerance, there's also resilience, the mark of a city that's seen all, been through all, risen. In a short period of time, experienced much, I write home: pearls, a heavily touristed city, craziness, my ass groped for a prolonged period of time on a crowded subway... I'll stay, I think. There are spells of homesickness but never regret. I miss people but I don't miss the place. I miss the way he hugged me and he expresses it on the phone still, the young'un, the only one who can. What others feel, I cannot tell. If they do miss me, there's no indication. It is un beso I crave from him but that to me he refuses to give.

Dying Impressions of a City

2006-11-04T09:41:00.000-05:00

Skyline
The streetcar is pulling away and I gaze at the receding skyline. Memories. To think that I just moved here eight months ago and I'm ready to say goodbye. I avert my eyes only to catch the penetrating gaze of this woman that asks me questions - questions that make me uncomfortable.
- Are you running away?
- Yes.
- You can run away from everyone and everything that you know but you can't run away from yourself.

Sentimentality
I gave. My blood and sweat, my nights and weekends that I stole from myself, my peace and bliss. I gave. I would've liked him to tell me to stay. He didn't. I would've liked him to tell me he was sorry to see me go. He didn't. Then what did I give for? For nothing. For money. To feed the bloody machine. And then she came. And he. And he. And he. Twenty people. And they told me they were sorry to see me go. And I realized why I was leaving. I used to be appreciated once but I no longer am.

"The City is My Friend"
She told me she missed it but from the day she'd step foot there, she knew she wouldn't stay forever. The greatest city in the world. She left because she missed her family. We dipped into the chocolate mousse and I realized how similar we were. I hope this does work out though. If you arrive with the knowledge you must depart, then what are you really working towards - leaving?

Voyeurism
Yesterday morning, as I took the subway to work, I saw this guy sketching a woman on the subway. She had no idea she was being observed and captured on paper. She sat, legs crossed, reading her paper, thinking. And he sketched. I watched his facial expressions. There was a desire to remain anonymous yet he knew I watched. He sketched. There was a strange sexual energy about this whole thing yet he was a man of about twenty and she was a woman in her late thirties. She was beautiful. As the subway came to a halt at his stop, he ripped out the sketch and dropped it in her lap as he stole out, desperate to avoid a confrontation.

Douleur
I've been left in this great, big apartment alone with boxes stacked upon each other, teetering, threatening to come crashing on top of me. We manage to amass so much crap and here I am with mine. And I wonder - what began with a sweet douceur has been replaced with a sharp douleur. I was abandoned on my last night in this depressing space. Is that the real face of humanity - non-confrontational, sweet yet complex, at times inconsiderate?

Adieu
I've always been uncomfortable with goodbyes yet I still conjure up the perfect one in my mind. What do you do when you really want to grovel at someone's feet and beg them to stay? You hug them, tell them to stay in touch and make a quick escape to shed a solitary tear. Perhaps it does end that way but goodbyes are still crucial - they are our last interaction with a person and likely the one they'll remember us by.

I'll be back
But when I tell them that, they don't believe me. They think this is for good.

Destiny

2006-10-29T17:22:00.001-05:00

A dream. Everything in my life is so sudden. Glowing fish and black lights. There were people I knew everywhere, some who filled me up with happiness so I wanted to cry, some who filled me with disgust with comments like "you're too good for here anyway." What the fuck does that mean anyway? This is where I'm from; this is me. I never forget my roots and I still manage to adapt. A speck in a sea of people. Jagamela Paramatma Evarito Moralidudu. And they gossip - they told him I talked shit about him. Argh, I stormed out at the end of the night.

I sat down on the sidewalk with a slice of hot margherita pizza and pondered over life in the soft drizzle. When things are meant to happen, they just do, they click. Like this. All this began a week ago, then gained momentum and here it is now, going full steam ahead. I'm quite relaxed really - all the pieces are just dropping into place. I just need to prod them a little et voila! I believe this is called destiny.

Success!

2006-10-27T17:52:00.000-04:00

And when what you've desired so desperately is handed to you on a silver platter... I can't really describe what it feels like. You have to experience it for yourself.

El hombre que no se casa
no sabe de cosa buena
Tiene que sabei bucaila
que no le saiga chiflera

The New World

2006-10-21T16:07:00.000-04:00

Do you not see that I struggle so? In your land, I might seem to be doubly skilled owing to the fact that I know much of here and much of there. I am caught somewhere in the middle and while to you it may seem like I have the best of both worlds, to me it's hell because I fit neither here, nor there.

Desire

2006-10-19T18:36:00.000-04:00

Desire is such a strange thing. It overcomes me, blinds me so that I cannot focus on what is and I keep pondering over what could be. But it's true that it might never happen. But if it did, oh man, I think I'd be in bliss. I concoct fantasies of what life will be like although the chances are slim. Do you like me? I wish I could find out immediately but alas, today's not the day, tomorrow won't be either and then I must return to visit the parents on the blasted weekend. Oh, this torturous desire!

Impressions

2006-10-15T23:59:00.000-04:00

And so begins a month of lies. No, a year of lies I've told. Ugly venial sins. Somewhere in your syrupy embrace glared at me my cheating heart. Somewhere in those puppy-like eyes became apparent to me your vulnerability. And it revolted me. I couldn't bear to be - depended on. It is what we fear the most that becomes our obsession for if we weren't to fear it, we'd be indifferent to it. If my faith were so strong, then it wouldn't be so fickle. I saw you crumble but I didn't want to hold you together fear of being clung on to. You've put me up on a pedestal and I'd prefer just to fade into nothingness, lost in a blue mist of oblivion. My memory's getting hazy as reality becomes fantasy, a morphed view of the world. And when you beg me to take you back, I push you away all the more. And your needs turn violent. You snarl and you rage and then you shrink back into your docile self. After a moment of quiet, you speak once more and gently you remind me that soon Katie will call and then she'll say, "there's good love out there, just you wait, you wait."

Nuit Blanche!

2006-10-01T18:32:00.000-04:00

C'était incroyable! I was ditched so I went off alone, curious to see what the city had in store for me. In comparison to big arthouses like Paris - the city where it was conceived - and Montreal - which has art flowing through its arteries - Toronto is but a fledgling in the art scene. It all started in Yorkville against the stark backdrop of plain concrete skyscrapers mostly built during the 60s and 70s littered with cranes upon cranes that are busy constructing condos and the new Four Seasons.

The walking tour of the city struck my fancy mostly because I could never imagine a walking tour of... well, Toronto. But it was fascinating and yes, I shall show off my newly acquired knowledge of the city. Did all of you know that there used to be a cemetary where the Pottery Barn now stands (note to self: don't buy anything from Pottery Barn) or that the land where Mississauga stands today was bought from the Natives at the beginning of the 19th century for $2000?

It wasn't even midnight yet and the night had totally drawn me in, such was the energy being exuded by the city. As the walking tour drew to an end, I ran into people I knew and we decided to grab a bite to eat. A few drunken hours later, we were all ready to resume our exploration.

The highlights of the night were definitely the fog exhibit and the ballroom which was like a high-school prom with disco balls and lights and prom-like music with thousands of balls thrown in and a ball fight. What fun! You know you're evil when you secretly target those who are standing on the fringes of the action and then hide so they don't know who's throwing the ball at them.

This was just what I'd expected from Toronto! Toronto isn't Paris and it didn't try to be. The tangoing couples, though offering an impeccable performance, were dressed as policemen/policewomen and blasted the music from their cars. It totally had the feel of impromptu performance, spellbinding yet natural.

I didn't make it home till the wee hours of the morning. I stood at the bus stop watching the faint light of dawn starting to creep up at the horizon and chatted with my university friend who is leaving in 10 days to become a priest, and I felt spiritual, artistic, fulfilled.

Gay Relationships Doomed?

2006-09-26T09:29:00.000-04:00

Those who have it keep talking about how easy it is to find but in practice, this is not really the case. All I've seen is people who have either been single all along, were in a relationship but are now taking a break, are in an open relationship, are in a relationship but are cheating on each other, just got into a relationship and are madly obsessed with each other or are in a relationship but spend very little time with each other (classic straight married couple where both busy themselves with their careers and/or children).

I don't want to come off as sounding extreme. I have seen people who are in healthy relationships and do spend a lot of time with each other as well as apart but that's one in a million. In some ways, I might've summarized any relationship regardless of gender or sexual orientation in my cases above but I just see it much more often in the gay community.

As if all these observations weren't bad enough, now there's a book validating this fact. There was article in today's Metro with the title "Perennial Singledom Affects Gay Life." In the article, the following facts have been listed:

40-60% of gay men are single. This is one-third to two times higher than for lesbians and heterosexuals, and many gay men will spend most of their lives unattached.
The happiest gay singles are singles by choice.
20% of gay men say their current best friend is an ex-lover.
According to one gay therapist, "Shame about being single has been a common theme in my support group. We've internalized the notion that it's somehow better to be in a relationship so there must be something essentially wrong with us if we've arrived at midlife and we're still single."

The author's recommendation is to come to terms with the fact that you will be single for the rest of your life: "If I'm going to be single for the rest of my life, what am I going to do to be happy? Once you start breaking it down into things like companionship, then start asking yourself how you can have that in your life now. Don't assume that having a boyfriend is the only way to get that."

I have two things to say to this. Firstly, most gay people are not in relationships because they're too damn picky and they think with their penes instead of their brains. Whereas with the heteros, marriage is generally about compatability, with the homos, it has everything to do with how a person looks and nothing to do with how they are. A lot of the people who complain they never find boyfriends will also dismiss people based on ONE photograph or the wrong skin tone or an imperfect feature. And I just love the justifications: sorry, not my type (based on one photo) or sorry, not into asians or his nose is too big. And I just love it when people have a list of all they're not looking for in their profiles. I get a feeling that I'm going to have to submit an application just to talk to them and they've listed out the criteria I must possess to qualify. Give me a break! If you do that, please don't whine about not finding a boyfriend!

Secondly, I'm a little confused about the intentions of the author. He's essentially saying accept that you will be single forever and look for whatever you're looking for in a relationship elsewhere. Well, most gay men are doing exactly that. They go to bars/clubs/bathhouses for sex and they get emotional support from their friends. A relationship combines the two things and for many gay men, there's a disconnect between the two and sex becomes purely a bodily, and not an intimate and spiritual experience. And I think that's where the problem of the community lies. But by saying "accept you will be single forever," he's just promoting the bathhouse culture. Not that there's anything wrong with that if that's what you want but not everyone wants that.

I'm not saying I have all the answers but based on what I've seen, successful relationships require a lot of work and compromise. If you live your life only for yourself, then you will obviously not be able to do that. And while gay men are a little more in touch with their emotions than straight men, they are, in the end, men who think with their penes first and then their hearts last which is why, statistically, lesbian relationships are the most stable, then heterosexual and then gay male relationships.

Gay Palestinians Flee to Israel

2006-09-19T23:07:00.000-04:00

BBC article from a few years ago that I just came across today:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/middle_east/3211772.stm

A number of gay Palestinian men are risking their lives to cross the border into Israel, claiming they feel safer among Israelis than their own people.

Shaul Gonen, of Israel's main gay rights lobbying group, Agudah, told Outlook that under international law Israel is obliged to offer asylum to those that seek it. But, he says, it can refuse if the applicants are from an area the state is in conflict with.

In practice, Palestinian gays end up being placed under virtual house arrest because of the fear that they may be potential suicide bombers.

However, many Palestinian gays say they would still rather live under house arrest in Israel, where homosexuality is not considered a crime, than at home.

However, the Israeli secret service also often exploit gay Palestinians, said Mr Gonen.

He says this usually involves coercing them into working undercover, to gather information about other Palestinians.

The precarious status of the gay community means gay men often end up working for the secret service or as targets for exploitation by Israeli men.

"They work as prostitutes, selling their bodies unwillingly because they have to survive," said Mr Gonen.

"Sometimes the Israeli secret police try to recruit them, sometimes the Palestinian police try to recruit them.

"In the end they find themselves falling between all chairs. Nobody wants to help them, everybody wants to use them."

And more...

At the bath houses of Tel Aviv, “Rani” finds anonymity and sometimes a free buffet. And there is always the chance of meeting an Israeli or a rich tourist who will offer his hotel room for a few nights, no questions asked.

For gay Palestinian runaways such as Rani, life on the street in Israel is a daily calculation of how to survive, but it is still easier than the persecution they say they suffered in the more traditional communities in the West Bank and Gaza Strip.

Rights activists estimate that 300 mostly male gay Palestinians are quietly eking out a living in Israel, at risk of being forcibly repatriated because they are illegal immigrants or because police consider them a threat.

“The first danger to them is from family and community, as well as (Palestinian) authorities,” said Donatella Rovera of Amnesty International. “Going to Israel is a one-way ticket, and once there their biggest problem is possibly being sent back.”

Palestinian runaways learn Hebrew quickly, playing down their Arab accents. Hospitals are avoided, and cash put aside for private health care. Those who turn to prostitution learn to spot plainclothes police from a distance.

Fearing that word of their whereabouts might reach vengeful relatives back home, they avoid contact with one another.

Mia Nonna

2006-09-18T20:26:00.000-04:00

Mia Nonna, mia luce, the light of my life. She lit up wherever she was, laughing merrily, spreading joy. She understood me, she understood everyone. But we never understood her. We never saw past the lovely smile, the diamond tiara, the contagious laughter. We never saw the silent tears, the awful bruises, the torments she lived through, her fear for her children as he molested them in his drunken, stoned state. And his family, who protected him and not her. And all the while, there was she who never tarnished their reputation and bottled it all up inside, her light fading into a misty blue. She still laughed, she still smiled and never said anything when they chastised her that her face was getting paler and she was getting thinner. She held everyone up in her palm, nurturing, understanding their pains, never saying a word when he stole to feed his addictions. She slowly suffered inside. Until one day, she flew. Past him, past his family who protected him, past the police that he had close ties to, the politicians he was friends with. She flew and it all happened so fast, it made me believe in God or at least a guardian angel. She was deeply traumatized, unable to look out at the darkness for fear of seeing his shadow lurking there. He called late at night to threaten her, his friends showed up at her door. What could the police do if he showed up at her place one day with a knife? Nothing. Slowly, she settled into her new life. She started working. And then one day, she met her prince charming and we still didn't understand her. We held her back for we felt it was too soon. But this was it, he was all she deserved... he was her happiness. I visited them for the first time after her wedding 2 years ago. She had regained the rosiness of her cheeks, her melodious laughter. She hugged me and I asked her if she was happy. She told me more than anything in the world. And then she begged me to tell her mother that she was happy too, that I'd seen it. She was still the same, still concerned about others. I love you, I truly do. I know I don't say it often enough but you inspire me to live my life to the fullest.

But I'm also sad... because though you've found happiness in the five short years since you flew, there are others still who are tormented, blackmailed into getting money for them or being discarded, kicked out of the house into a ruthless society. It exasperates me that they're allowed to live in these conditions. It shames me to be born in a society that sides with the oppressor and oppresses the oppressed even more. But I still live in a society where such things happen. So maybe it's just men... certain men.

Gordo

2006-09-17T13:29:00.000-04:00

He said he can't look at himself in the mirror anymore. He doesn't like what he sees. I try to tell him that he can change yet he sinks, sinks deep into this sea of despair. Hubbi, I say, things that must be done must be done. You know this. You sit on it and you aggravate the problem and all the while, your mental health is deteriorating. He pays no heed to my advice. In front of me, he agrees and decides to change but soon, all is forgotten and we're back at square one. I guess I see a little bit of me in him. And so I tell him... hubbi, I say, you know like me you are indecisive. I always second-guess myself. Remember I told you I thought you were not shy or introverted? He asks me if I do now. No, not necessarily, I respond. But what do you call someone who second guesses? Not confident, that's it. How eloquent, he jokes. And we move on, another conversation, one of many more to come. He's troubled, I can tell. He told me how when he was coming up in the elevator, he looked at himself in the mirror and hated everything, from apple to pear, gordo. But he isn't the only one. I have a friend who is medically 20lbs underweight but still comments on how he is fat. What can I tell you, hubbi, other than that I love you, love handles and all. I tell you this and I see in your eyes that you do not believe me. I don't know what more I can do but I do feel a little bit of hatred for the community that made you feel this way, my increasing discomfort with associating with such superficialty. I just can't. I was there a week ago and I wanted to run away. I keep hearing Gandhi's words to be the change I wish to see in the world. Well, I renounce this then. I refuse to be superficial. I refuse to give in and try to fit in. I am, I will be, just me. And so should you, whether it be fat or ethnic or boring. Be what makes you happy, hubbi.

Bulbula

2006-09-16T22:35:00.000-04:00

I'm not quite sure what to say. I can't seem to quite collect my thoughts but I can't stay quiet either. I was shushed as I gushed out my incoherent, uncollected thoughts. The views I've heard so far are mixed and I guess I too didn't feel like I'd witnessed perfection. It's like loving someone who has glaring holes but you still love them despite their imperfections, for their imperfections. And I was definitely strongly affected. I can't get it out of my mind, I can not. I guess what she said to him was right. Why did it have this effect on me? Well, it's simple. I've idealized love into being this thing it's not. It was flawless love with flawed circumstances but sadly, that's the only time such love exists. At the end of the day, it isn't really reality, is it? It's a fantasy I loved, an impractical, beautiful fantasy. And as it ends, it again idealizes in the most illogical of ways. I sit and watch as he destroys his love which, to me is awfully selfish (quoted feels completely false after all that we’ve learned). How did it get to this point? His smile is etched into my memory like a scar that hurts from which I hope I recover soon. But for the next few days, the obsession will continue. Might as well live the fantasy for now...

Long afloat on shapeless oceans
I did all my best to smile
'Til your singing eyes and fingers
drew me loving to your isle.

And you sang, "sail to me,
Sail to me, let me enfold you.
Here I am, here I am
Waiting to hold you."

I'm tired

2006-09-08T23:30:00.000-04:00

Up on a pedestal, speaking clearly, speaking loud. My country, a persian prince. I'm falling, faint. Should I go or should I not? They might hate me for who I am but I don't hate them... not even when they singled me out. Sheila, I know you've tried but what do you want me to do? Why am I even involved in this conflict? And why is it more important than any of the others in the world. My artsy world, twirling, the passion, but it wasn't all you claimed it to me. Grace, the world's loveliest smile, dark skin, white teeth, a ghoul. I stood close to you and auntyjee was captivated. Rain rain, all wet. I sulk. Here I am mini dearest. I line up, you see me naked. I suspect it's true. I saw... I can't repeat. I'm tired, I can't take it so save me Ivri. They say I shold hate you but I love you, the siren can be heard in an endless loop. But will you reciprocate? Nope. I fall into an uneasy slumber...

Dans mes rêves...

2006-08-31T23:30:00.000-04:00

In words I cannot express, such is this frustration. You came to me - oh, just what I'd long longed for - but I desire you not. Not since the dream, that which sent chills down my spine and I shivered, I shivered like in years I have not. Could it have been the truth? It's left me wondering... a philosophy. I wonder, could it be? They struggle, so do I, we all struggle daily but they know not of my struggles. And I make grand plans, schemes that come crashing at my feet. Fall, then rise, and one by one, I piece it all together. And it fits - it all fits - except the last piece which I've lost perhaps never to find. And I eyed him enviously, his cool collected composed demeanour and I understood. I understood that all are not created equal and then began the monologue that lasted the night and brought him down and he hasn't contacted me. Is it because I can't speak Arabic? I tried to learn, for reasons I haven't confessed - yet. But I guess I failed. I suppose I can invoke the "Arabic is one of the hardest languages in the world" statement and it all becomes good. Yet I feel no better. And I haven't given up. Then why do I have a resigned tone in a blog entry that was supposed to be optimistic. But I haven't given up, I say again. And in September we shall meet once more. And the Europeans descended - not from the Heavens - but from somewhere in the atmosphere and they sang, they belted out tunes. The wall, it broke. What did I think? No really, what was on my mind? C'était oublié! What of the naked men? I'm afraid that I can't get that image out of my mind... the long ugly penii just hanging there. This isn't me, I repeatedly told myself yet there I was stealing glances, hiding behind pillars, much to his frustration. What was happening to me? I decided to confess this to him. A sense of urgency had returned. I shivered. He left my side. I cursed him and everyone I knew and vowed never to trust again. But I did and I will. And he who had gifted me with smiles - oh what a rarity - he attacked me again and I recoiled, surprised. Then I scowled at him and decided to add one more item to that list. After all, that's not the piece I've lost for good.

Retraction

2006-08-21T22:04:00.000-04:00

History does repeat itself, the same old patterns.

In some ways, it's a retraction to the past. In every way, it's a retraction to myself. I feel like I'm in control again. Pretty much everything going on these days has left me quite frustrated and discontent. But you know, last week I was sad and the week before, even depressed. Now I'm hopeful.

I'll admit that I don't care much for suburbia. I'd rather live in a busy city or a quaint little village where you can walk everywhere. Not this: an 80km trek in each direction every day. If this week weren't the last week I have to do this, I would've surely died.

And although I'm sure to want to kill myself before the week is over - you see, he will be back tomorrow badmouthing me in Mandarin right in my face and breathing down my neck to try and get me to accomplish the impossible - Friday's only 3 days away and I can't help but smile at the burst of energy I feel lately, all grâce à... well, you... whom I, in my haste, had discarded, a diamond.

And then there was one.

2006-07-30T19:49:00.000-04:00

I saw corpses of children but nobody cares.

I saw your total disregard for me because you found another.

I saw her corpse when I returned, her mutilated body rotting away, broken.

And one was left, the rest they met their untimely death.

And one was left, the rest they abandoned him for better company.

And one was left, only he, the killer remained.

Abb iss band kamre main mera dum ghut raha hai *sigh*.

Khabaram raseed imshab...

2006-07-26T23:59:00.000-04:00

خبرم رسيد امشب که نگار خواهی آمد
سر من فدای راهی که سوار خواهی آمد
همه آهوان صحرا ، سر خود نهاده بر كف
به اميد آنكه روزی به شكار خواهی آمد
كشتی كه داغ جگر ، دادت بدينسان
به جنازه گر نيايی به مزار خواهی آمد
به لبم رسيده جانم ، تو بيا كه زنده مانم
پس از آنكه من نمانم ، به چه كار خواهی آمد ؟

Khabaram raseed imshab ki nigaar khwahi aamad
Sar-e man fidaa-e raah-e ki sawaar khwahi aamad
Hama aahwan-e sahra sar-e khud nihada bar kaf
Ba umeed aan ke roze ba shikaar khwahi aamad
Kashishe ki ishq daarad naguzaradat badin-saan
Ba janazah gar nayai ba mazaar khwahi aamad
Balabam raseed jaanam, to biya ki zindah maanam
Pas az aan ki man na-maanam, ba-chi kar khwahi aamad?

Tonight came the news that you would come
Let my head be sacrificed on the road by which you arrive
All the gazelles in the desert have beheaded themselves
Hopeful that one day you will come to hunt them
The attraction of love will not leave you unmoved
If you don't come to my funeral, you'll come to my grave
My soul has come to my lips, come so I may remain alive
After I am no longer, for what purpose will you come?

Ce soir, ce soir...

2006-07-25T23:40:00.000-04:00

Beaten. I submit myself to thee. The height of my creativity. I sensed that connection. Now I sense distress. You know you must do it. If you sense distress, you must do it.

A Killer on the Loose

2006-07-20T23:37:00.000-04:00

I have realized my folly. I should've never put Alfie and Betty together. They might act like the best of friends in my presence but I'm certain he's been attacking her behind my back. I think he has been gnawing away at her sides while I'm out at work. I have to say that I have developed quite a fondness for Betty. She's been quite resilient through all this. I can't help but resent Alfie a little but I really should not resent someone for their inherent nature. I just wish I'd known it sooner so I could've separated the two and spared poor Betty the agony.

Some might say that Alfie suffered an equal amount of trauma but I'm afraid that I cannot sympathize the same way with someone who has the tendency to become a killer. And it's true that Betty has provoked him further - I've witnessed her do it. But it's quite clear really - whoever is more powerful also holds a greater ability to make amends and thus, a greater responsibility to use that ability. So when it comes time to weigh the scales, I say Betty +, Alfie -.

Homelands

2006-07-17T23:10:00.000-04:00

Ni ni dar da dar da dar da dar da dar da dar da ga da
Ni ni dar da dar da ga da
Ni sa

Ni sa ni pa ma ga ma pa sa ni sa ga re

I heard these notes as I read of what happened in Rwanda. Your lush green homeland was painted red and sprayed with the pungent odour of decaying corpses.

Ni ni dar da dar da dar da dar da dar da dar da ga da
Ni ni dar da dar da ga da
Ni sa

Ni sa ni pa ma ga ma pa sa ni sa ga re

Violent storm, a strong gale, sand blown into my eyes, rain drops hitting my head with intensity, reminders of the homeland abandoned.

Sa da pa ma pa da
Ga ma pa ma pa da
Ga pa ma sa ni ni

We die to claim land that was promised to us, we die to claim land we refuse to share with those who have dwelled there just as long as we have, we die to claim land just for our religion, we die to claim land for our race. We die for nothing.

Tudo o que quiser
Tem que entender
Nas palmas da mão
Se tiver porquê
Frágil nessa terra
Fácil derrubou
Quando jogou fora
Tudo acabou

Where I was born is my country, where I live now is my country, places I visit are my country, places I haven't visited are my country, the world is my country.

War

2006-07-16T23:29:00.000-04:00

I turned on the TV after days and all I can see is war and bloodshed, people pointing fingers at each other and nobody wants to stop. They'd rather suffer through something that will accomplish nothing. In the end, nothing will change.

When I was young, my grandfather always told me that he who extends the first hand towards friendship is the one of greater character. Yet I'm hearing the leaders of the so-called civilized world justify war. War might be justified in some cases; this isn't one. And if we're still engaging in such a mindless war or encouraging those who are, then perhaps we're not as civilized, nor as great as we claim to be.

Separation Assumed

2006-07-11T23:54:00.000-04:00

I didn't really get my wish. Perhaps it was meant to be this way. Postponing can mean only one thing...

Love-ridden, I have looked at you
With the focus I gave to my birthday candles
I wished on the lidded blue flames under your brow
And baby, I wished for you

Nobody sees when you're lying in your bed
And I wanna crawl up with you but I cry instead
I want your warm but it will only make me colder when it's over
So I can't tonight, baby

No, not "baby" anymore
If I need you, I'll just use your simple name
Only kisses on the cheek from now on
And in a little while, we'll only have to wave.

Insomnia

2006-07-03T05:31:00.000-04:00

I cannot sleep. My brain refuses to shut down although my body is aching for some rest. My mind is a whirlwind of activity. I find that all the things that have been plaguing me for the longest time converged onto a single point of focus today and I received some form of clarity. And I hope I stay devoted to this point. I have grand plans and I know I have the capability of doing it. All I need to do is wake myself up from the slumber I've been in for the past 3 years. I've started talking to people, getting tips, and setting goals, aggressive goals. I'm scared. I think my brain's afraid that if it shuts down, I'll forget the sense of urgency that I'm feeling at the moment. I've tried to lie down and close my eyes without success. And here I am, writing, as a sliver of the first light of dawn intrudes on me through the window and my aching body groans for some much-needed rest that I know I will not get now. If only I could store this excess energy and use it in small doses as needed. But alas, I suspect that when tomorrow comes, I will retract to my old self, to the sweet slumber I have grown accustomed to in the past few years of inaction.

Fear

2006-07-02T23:54:00.000-04:00

You are on my mind tonight as I puff in, puff out. Oh, my poor swollen glands! Bloated, I am, burping unexpectedly, unpleasantly, yet still my thoughts rest on you, such is the impression you've left on me, such desires have you awakened. I stole your photo from your MSN to show to my friend. Was that sneaky? Perhaps, but I don't feel guilty. Why should I? You've displayed it for all to see. I don't care if they disapprove for all that matters is what I think. You spoke to me and in a minute, I knew it was meant to be. Return home soon, please! I musn't jinx this, no I cannot, for I always do.

I remember that fateful night in Prague when I walked alone, first in the park where the rustling of leaves, where the looming shadows, where the fleeting glimpses of the sinners haunted me and I ran for the light. I was scared yet curious and I fled because I always do when faced with a scary situation. I entered the dimly lit narrow alleys with not a person to be seen, buildings looming like the devil's hideout. I imagined criminals hiding there looking out at me through the windows and there I was, exposed.

It was like that when I went to the Afghani border that one time. We drove through the tribal areas and I saw huge fortresses with scattered holes in the walls. I remember that childlike question, "what are those?" He warned me not to venture off the highway which was federal property but I defiantly walked a few steps onto the dirt and I heard warning shots being fired into the air. I retreated, petrified of the hidden eyes behind the high walls and there I was, exposed.

And I haven't put myself in that situation with you now because I will feel naked, exposed, unprotected. And who will save me from you if you choose to take that sword out of it's sheath and plunge it into my heart?

What am I?

2006-07-01T23:12:00.000-04:00

It is Canada day and as I look out the window and see brilliant fireworks erupt in every part of the city, I can't help but ask myself where I'm from. You see, when people ask me where I'm from, I always tell them I'm Canadian because I truly feel that I am (I've told everyone repeatedly how I truly believe that Canada's the best country in the world to live in). That is always followed by the question, "But where are you from originally?" On my recent trip to the Middle East, I decided to tell everyone I was South Asian when asked where I was from so I'd get better bargains on shopping. However, they always proceeded to ask me, "But where are you from now?" No wonder I'm confused. If I'm not Canadian and I'm not South Asian, then what the hell am I?

Sonntag

2006-06-26T12:19:00.000-04:00

I wish I could sleep for days but I'm afraid that I won't be getting much time to rest until Saturday. The weekend has left me exhausted and I could sense it on Sunday. I almost did pass out during the parade. My feet were killing me but I stayed - for them. There was whinging and bitchiness and unpleasantness along the way and the person I dislike was standing next to me (no, if you're reading this, it wasn't you!) yet my experience still remains untarnished. And it seemed to me like everyone took the heat, the lack of organization and being sprayed with water guns pretty well.

Yes, it was quite commercialized - the biggest floats were all corporate - but I still sensed peoples' sense of self peek out through the corporate logos. A few marched for those who cannot, a few marched for what they believe in. He marched too in his purest form, inciting gasps from everyone, doing something I could never dream of doing. Well, I actually did dream of it last night when I was him with long flowing hair but I had a balding patch on my scalp and the crowd stared me down with unforgiving eyes. Yet he marched; he was not ashamed of his body.

It wasn't ending so I decided to leave. Back on the street, I could barely walk and I started to get claustrophobic. The mounties had gained celebrity status quite deservingly so but so had all the underwear models and I wondered what their claim to fame was.

I ran away seeking shelter. At night, I climbed atop a tall building with winds that threatened to blow unfriendly liquids onto my lovely blue shirt. I heard los dios who spoke about the environment: "if you plan on having children, you have to think about this" (this being the future of the world). "She's right," I said to myself as I fell deep into thought.

That night I returned, relieved to find some normalcy restored to the neighbourhood. It had all the signs of a dying party yet I lingered, fully aware that I would be unable to experience this until the following year. I saw several beauties. Miss T&T was one of them, flawless hair, flawless skin, flawless accent, "career aspirations." I stupidly picked up a free t-shirt that I know I will never wear because it comes down to my knees. I walked in, I said my hellos and as I talked to her, I saw the look in her eyes, that of a mother protecting her offspring. It was then that I realized that I've wronged him and that I continue to do so. She doesn't hate me but I suppose she should for I forgot her, I stole him from her and once broken, I left him to her to gather in her arms to mend.

True pride

2006-06-24T22:07:00.000-04:00

This weekend was supposed to be about pride - being proud of who you are. Then why was I aware of every curve, every bump, every pimple, every small imperfection in my body? I stood at the corner of Church and Carlton wishing I were invisible. I told my friend this and he pointed out that that's what being gay was about.

I partially agree but I think it's all in me. I know that the gay community is superficial but my body image is mine alone and I shouldn't let others influence it. It's the small imperfections that make us beautiful, that perfect us. If everyone were flawless, the world wouldn't be beautiful anymore. And once I threw my own concerns to the wind and let the festivities around me take hold of me, I felt a lot more comfortable in my own skin.

Thank You

2006-06-22T22:58:00.000-04:00

I was reading an astrology site last night and I found it strangely accurate. One of the things in it really made me think:
You may come to some harsh realizations about your relationships, and even those that you thought were quite good may have to be given up. But you can be sure that any relationship that comes through this period in good shape is very real and important to you.

And this has been quite true ever since I finished university. I've noticed that lately I just don't have time for the BS I could take when I was younger. But any relationships I have right now (well, most of them) are based on mutual respect and I guess I just wanted to thank everyone for having been there for me and for not having given up on our relationship. Since this is a time to be proud of who you are, I can't not thank everyone who's in my life because without them, I'm afraid I never would've fully realized nor accepted let alone be proud of who I am. So thank you all and happy pride!

The Past Two Weeks

2006-06-21T01:02:00.000-04:00

To all of you who have put up with the madness of the past two weeks, I offer my gratitude and a sip of the wine I brought home tonight. This includes bitchiness or my disgusting obsession with the unattainable or my strange demands. I can't say I haven't had a great time though. It was a whirlwind of activity and I got caught up in it.

I cannot forget the fully grown woman outside the shopping centre who peed her pants. I don't know what to make of it. I must say that this is one of those things you don't really want stuck in your mind but it is in mine like the image of the dying African child confronted by a vulture in Saving Lives. I am overcome with a strange sadness and hopelessness I cannot explain when I think of these things.

But let's speak of what happened. We spoke our minds tonight, drunken philosophy. I interacted with the tourists who will soon fly back to where they're from. It's like a calling. I know it all too well. It's something I think I will have to face soon... to go back to your roots, to trace back your life to the point where it began. But not just yet. Let me linger a bit longer.

Let me speak of the conviction of my ancestors as I stand here and defy them. Let me think of the inevitable for a moment and put it off though I know I must face it someday quite soon. Let me think of you fondly like a frame in the reel of my past that stayed, unchanging, frozen. Let me convince myself that I won't miss you when I know that I will. Let me sit here and write and not act because that is the easy thing to do. I remain stationary, trapped, captive in a cage of my own making.

The Beast

2006-06-18T01:20:00.000-04:00

Hideously corpulent, crude and vulgar, oh vicious vicious beast! You imposed yourself on me wreaking a strange distress on me. You squeezed the life out of me, abused me till I bled dry, writhing, quivering, wanting to be freed of your rude hold. I wasn't freed from you tonight and I gave in to your impolite demands. I fled when I could and I complained. Oh how I complained! I roared and the world heard me and I silenced myself as I realized I was turning into you, loud and obnoxious creature. And I became aware of my needs. Shivering, quivering, wanting to be freed, wanting to be saved. But what from, I cannot tell. It wasn't you, oh beast, for you are what I wish not to become. But as I sit here thinking, I realize that a part of me is you and I suppress that part as much as I can. But still, but still, when my guards are down, that part of me does come around. Because you see, no matter who I try to be, that part is still a part of me.

Adoren

2006-06-15T23:24:00.000-04:00

When I caught you looking towards where I walked, I averted my eyes for fear of being exposed. The feelings I hold are mine only. I veiled my sad disposition with mindless chatter and laced it with a burst of laughter to complete the illusion of indifference. But I cared. And I still do.

You misled me, love, with your open nature, with your tenderness. Perhaps if you'd been crueler, perhaps if you'd been less kind, the feeling in my heart would diminish with time. My nervous demeanour could've aroused your sympathy but no. But no! It wasn't just me, it was also you. My heart might be naïve but it can't mislead me; it never has. And I knew what I felt, a feeling I haven't felt in years. It gave me hope but then he took it away from me, seemingly cruel but he was sparing my feelings, I know.

Adoren, I do, for this I cannot explain to my comrades. But this I will confess: I have stolen past your alley several times in hope of being recognized sans succès.

I feel a little pathetic and I made my confession, I did. But still, it did not help and my agony has only grown to a level where I cannot contain it, where every permutation of your name taunts me mercilessly. Oh love, what am I now, the grime on these windows or the dirt beneath the sole of your shoes or the speck of dust that floated onto your magnificent tie and you flicked away with indifference.

I was tempted by fate who painted me a beautiful lie, with promise of what I long for, what I crave but... I will diminish, and go into the West, and remain... ce que je suis, tout seul.

Crazy Pursuit

2006-06-13T09:44:00.000-04:00

Contrary to yesterday's feeling of impending doom, despite very strong evidence warning me of failure, I have been encouraged to jump into the fire head-first. Though failure is almost guaranteed, I think perhaps this is meant to be more symbolic, an act of taking life by the reins. Will I live up to the challenge or not? I know myself. I can be influenced temporarily but in the end, this pig-headed man does what he truly wants.

P.S. Huddled in a corner, hiding from the vicious sunlight and the intrusive eyes of strangers, I poured my thoughts onto a writing pad stolen from my hotel room. A lot was said of "he" and "he" and "he" and perhaps a bit of me. Look for several backdated posts as soon as I get a chance to post them. And I shall try and keep you updated on this crazy crazy endeavour, my lovelies.

Your town isn't all I heard it to be...

2006-06-06T19:24:00.000-04:00

Choppy Recollections

It seems so far away. How can I gather these thoughts and pour them onto here? Let's see... I heard of your town as heaven on earth where men can earn more than their worth. And in this town, I did see great things, ornate things, and I was awestruck. But I also saw heinous things, oozing venom, and I wasn't pleased. I am a man who preaches equality, m'dear, and this in your town I did not see.

But there was one, a Lebanese gem, who spent ages with me. I looked at him, he looked at me, it was special. I saw beauty, he saw... well, I don't know what he saw. These grand buildings, lush gardens, they could not compare to his beauty, his radiant personality. And then I admitted to you that indeed, in your city is found true beauty, a beauty of character.

What I didn't say to him

2006-06-02T23:30:00.000-04:00

Choppy Recollections

Theodore, listen to me. The Holy words, they've come to me, descended from the Heavens. Grieve not love, life has hope, for you, for me. Sans amour, what is this life, this existence? Without devotion, why live? They spoke to me in hushed tones, sang to me His Holy songs and I listened, enraptured. So Theodore, where have you come from? Now you are my brother and I shall embrace you, decorate your cheeks with warm kisses. Such is my love. Take be by the hand, Theodore, and lead me to that what I desire. But that isn't what I desire...

I melted under your touch, soft and genuine were your welcomes to me. We walked hand in hand, we did, like two lost lovers. In your hand was my sweaty palm and in your breath a forgotten song. A little short but we'll make it work, your nature and mine are a perfect fit. But you don't want me, you're merely fascinated. But I'm more than fascinated, by you, by the way you took my hand. And led me to that which I wanted not, but you thought that I did. I wanted you.

I watched

2006-05-30T19:00:00.000-04:00

Choppy Recollections

I walked in, lowered gaze, as recommended. I heard her break down behind me pleading for forgiveness. I watched. I felt nothing. I beat myself up over it. I thought that I should feel something. I watched. I felt nothing. I watched as others beside me burst into tears. I felt guiltier. I was surrounded by a barrage of prayers that hit me wave after wave. I watched and I listened. I saw perseverance in the man with an amputated leg who propelled himself forward on his hands among a throng that could trample him. I saw devotion in the old women with hunched backs and the men with canes and others who were oblivious of their surroundings. I also saw groups engaged in call and answer, mad dashes to overtake others, pushing and shoving, and cellphone conversations. I watched like an outsider, fascinated. I saw beauty in youth, the effects of time, I saw contentment and wisdom but I also saw immaturity. I watched. As I left, there were children on the street who poked and prodded me for change and I'd turned to stone. If I helped one, I would be tackled to the floor by the rest. I tried hard not to but I watched. I slept that night, overwhelmed. When I returned, my experience was different from the day before. Now I watched, I listened, I moved but deep in my heart, I found peace for my guilt trip had come to pass.

Shitty Poem

2006-05-26T11:14:00.000-04:00

Subtle whispers of what is to come
I know, I know but still I say naught
You take me aside and tell me to pray
I agree but my stomach is taut

I tried, I tried, Mama dearest
But nothing will please you, will it?
Thousands of miles, go I might
But your respect for me won't grow, will it?

All my close allies are now yours
You took over what was mine
And as I wander alone with strangers
Not a moment I have to pause and pine

With you, I go, willing or unwilling
To gain approval, to gain acceptance
But in your mind is something different
You think I go to seek penance.

Childless

2006-05-22T23:42:00.000-04:00

I am overcome with sadness - for her. She will never experience motherhood and for a woman, not having a choice in that matter is the worst thing possible. Her laughter, her smile, her beautiful personality are just a cover. Her mother wept, I'm sure she does too.

He told me that he wasn't looking for love. His talk reminded me of the young one. He just wants to have fun. I'm afraid that he might become just like the rest of them and if he does, then he can't be mine. Futo, just futo. Yes, the maki, futo.

I thought. A lot. I reminisced, I laughed, I cried. I shared those feelings with you and you played along pretending to care though I could see the indifference in your eyes that gazed out the window and your yawn that reeked of boredom. Your attempts at relaxation threatened to become my bane once again and I pushed you away. I believed that if I distanced myself from you, things would retract to the way they were before the madness began but how can you get to unknow a person once you get to know them? You can't.

Faces

2006-05-20T23:59:00.000-04:00

I saw many faces tonight. I saw the face of the most genuine and giving person who warmed my heart. I saw the face of someone who is falling in love and I saw uncertainty there but I also saw hope and it filled me with longing. I saw a face that had returned that I had not expected to see and I was overjoyed. I saw the prettiest face next with her lovely eyes and it made me want to dance with her but she was PMSing as always. Then I saw the one who eyed me with contempt for not providing him the monopoly of my time and it made me feel guilty. And then came the one who was a little insecure and that made his face seem unapproachable and I remembered the way I'd been.

I also saw the one that someone had attempted to pair me up with and I'd given him a piece of my affection but he wasn't worthy. I saw the other one that I was going to be paired with and I thanked God that it hadn't come to pass. I despise arrogance. I saw a lustful face as he eyed her and asked about her greedily. I wrapped her in my protective cocoon. Cockblock. I thought of myself. We're not like them, me and her. We're genuine, we give our heart and soul to the people we care for. But these faces, they suck you dry for all you're worth and discard you like waste. I resolved not to let it be. It disturbed me that he had such intentions towards her.

Earlier in the night, I had seen the face of the one who had been his and I wondered where he had been. I saw his face last buried in another's and my heart wept as my hope diminished and a pessimistic scepticism took over me. I've recoiled into myself and I hope that tomorrow I let the guard down once more but right now, I can't help but hate men just a tad.

Be Strong

2006-05-18T09:30:00.000-04:00

I erupted into this song in the shower this morning with thoughts of him on my mind and his loss. What can you say when a soul departs because nothing you will say will make the other person feel good. All you can say is... let it out, express your loss so you may be at peace.

Be Strong
Be strong, be strong
Though night has come
The journey, my dear, has just begun

Be brave, be brave
In time you'll see
That I was all I was meant to be

But I am scared of death, he said
As he looked at me in my deathbed
To him I said be strong, my dear
My new beginning is very near.

Be strong, be strong, my love, be strong
And always remember me.

... but I don't need love to live!

2006-05-17T01:46:00.000-04:00

I saw the Lord of the Rings musical tonight and I'm left wondering what people were talking about. I'm a little peeved with people for being so negative. Perhaps it's because it's a Toronto-based production, perhaps it's because they're comparing it to the movies, perhaps it's just because they like to whinge but people have been overly critical of the musical. I admit that there were some things that could be improved, some aspects of it that were hard to swallow. But overall, they did something I wouldn't've thought possible - compress a 1000+ page book and a 10+ hour trilogy into 3.5 h. The sets were amazing, the whole stage was a whirlwind of activity and the scenes flowed seamlessly from one to the other.

On my way back home, I had a chat with my friend about love. It's funny how we understand each other. She commented on how she wondered if she would ever fall in love again and that she was okay with that. We both have something to compensate for the lack of love in our lives, she has her not-boyfriend who is crazy about her but she not-so-much about him; I have my support network that feeds my need to be with others. To be quite honest, I have been told by a lot to compromise, for experience, for the sake of trying it out. But why should I? If I were going to do that, why wouldn't I just give in to my mum and marry someone of her liking? But no! I will go through life and if I find the love of my life, great! But if I don't, then I'm okay with that too.

No culture can be more obsessed with love than the Indian culture. In Hindi, there are at least 5-6 different degrees of love, from liking someone to the most extreme being majnoon, where one loses all sense of self and goes utterly crazy for his/her lover with one sole goal: acquiring the love of that person and pleasing them. Now perhaps the love I want shouldn't be so extreme or scary but I would hope that it would be towards the upper end of that scale ;)

Love me for stupid reasons
I like those most

Blatant discrimination!!

2006-05-16T11:43:00.000-04:00

I've had it! I just received an invitation a company event which has left me fuming. Here are a few excerpts:

Please review your schedule and let me know if you, your spouse/partner and or kids will be attending.

We would like everyone in the company to attend this event. So, for those of you who are not based at our Toronto location, we are offering you a travel and accommodation allowance to attend this event. The maximum allowance is $500 for a single person, or $1,000 for a family.

At all events, in the past, it's always you and spouse/partner. I want to know why! Why are single people discriminated against just because they choose not to be in a relationship? Why do I have to be penalized for being single by receiving less money, and having to share a room and a table with other single people? Why must I go to the party and watch all the couples dance while I sit at the singles table?

Maybe I have a friend who is just as dear to me as a spouse is to another. Maybe I enjoy his/her company just as much. But no! I shall be treated like a second-class citizen just because I'm single. Grrr!

Fat Lip

2006-05-11T23:06:00.000-04:00

I've got a fat lower lip bearing an awful lot of similarity to Pam's collagen-injected lips.

*Pouts* My, don't I look sexy? Lol, might as well enjoy it while it lasts...

Oh no! I've been tagged!!

2006-05-10T23:25:00.000-04:00

"Name ten of life's simple pleasures that you like most, then tag some people to do the same. Try to be original and creative and not to use things that someone else has already used."

Godiva's dark chocolate truffles. I love chocolate and they are the most exquisite although Baci are a close second because of their name, the hazelnut and the cheesy messages that I love so much! Honorable mention: my amazing chocolate truffle moisturizer with real chocolate in it =D
Reading a book (specifically one of the Harry Potter books) in a quiet park under a tree on a sunny day. Fine, I know I need to get more original...
Long walks. I seriously adore long walks in the summer whether it be on a trail or downtown Toronto. There are a lot of sights to take in!
The smell of smoke in a man's stubble after he's had a ciggy. Chastise me all you want for promoting something that we all know kills you but this really does turn me on.
Spider rolls. There's something quite decadent about Japanese food and I love spider rolls. It's something I treat myself to rarely with lots of wasabi. Yum!
Pressing the Snooze button. I honestly would've killed myself or smashed my alarm clock against the wall if not for it.
Learning a cool, new word (esp. Brit slang). I remember how taken I was with the word whinge when I first heard it or "Lush!". I ran around town saying that to everyone. Oh, and as a kid, supercalifragilisticexpialidocious, which according to Wikipedia means "atoning for extreme and delicate beauty while still being highly educable" and I think describes me perfectly, don't y'all think?
Thunderstorms! After all, I wouldn't be a true South Asian if I didn't long for monsoon-like storms so I can do one of:
(A) Stand on the balcony/porch/veranda and sing
(B) Walk into the rain fully clothed to get wet
(C) Get my mom to make me something deep-fried and yummy!
(D) Curl up in a blanket next to the fireplace
Foreign languages - everything to do with them whether it be sexy accents or Neruda or Khusro...
Singing in the shower. Que je mourrais si je ne pourrais pas le faire! A word of warning: you do *not* want to be in the same building, let alone the same apartment, while I'm doing this. I believe once my neighbour knocked on the door to tell me to shut the hell up... I pretended to not have heard the knock on the door *insert blush emoticon*.

Hmmm... I dunno who reads my blog regularly... *thinks* I tag Hakeem and Kevin!

Persian food

2006-05-09T15:23:00.000-04:00

I just had persian food for lunch and it was exquisite! Pilav and chicken kebab... yum! I find it interesting how the Chinese and Japanese consider rice that sticks together good whereas in Indian and Persian cuisines, each grain must be separate for the rice to be considered good.

What is and was

2006-05-07T22:28:00.000-04:00

There's a bump on my head where life tried to knock some sense into me; it failed.
There was a wound on my toe where I cut my nail too deep and it bled; it healed.

There's a stain on my countertop where you spilled some General Tso Chicken; it thickened into a sticky dark circle.
There were leftovers in the fridge that I thought I'd eat the next day; I devoured them when I returned home drunk.

There's despair and uncertainty about the future that I thought would diminish as time passed by; it grew.
There was hope in my heart that we could patch things up; it was false hope.

There's a void in my heart from when you left me standing all alone; it deepened.
There was the time she told me that life would get better and that true love awaited me; she lied.

Paralyzed

2006-05-06T13:18:00.000-04:00

O' my naive heart
What is this longing
What is this yearning...

I can't say
What it is I'm longing for

It's as if life is a little lost, a little surprised

The world's silent, so's the sky
All I hear echoing from every corner is my heartbeat

If I knew what it is that I want, then at least my heart could rest. But here I am yet again, tumbling into turmoil. I'm ready to relinquish these drunken nights, they won't get me anywhere except into trouble. It's passing time, time I'm letting slip from my fingertips, time that could be used to accomplish so much more. My life's at a standstill; I cannot proceed this way or that, completely paralyzed. I keep thinking of you. My life is a pendulum. It swings from you to me and back. You're always on my mind but I cannot make you a part of my life because that isn't how it happens. *Sigh* the same bullshit all over.

L'amour est un oiseau rebelle

2006-04-30T22:35:00.000-04:00

I'll never smile again until I smile at you
I'll never laugh again, what good would it do?
For tears would my eyes, my heart would re-al-ize
That our romance is through.

I'll never love again, I'm so in love with you
I'll never thrill again to somebody new
Within my heart, I know I will never start
to smile again, until I smile at you.

It was beautiful, the way it all fit in. In his words, it was a merging of two souls and of two cultures so the appearance is homogenous. And I felt so at home. A sunbeam shone from the roof and formed a heart shape at the entrance to the hall. In this house, love resides. And as they tangoed, I knew that's how the rest of their life would be, built on the foundation of love. And that in time, the Rockies may tumble, Gibraltar may crumble, but their love is here to stay.

It turns out...

2006-04-29T03:44:00.000-04:00

you were making a fooool of meeeeeeeee ohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...

Strangely comforting, perhaps a little too much

2006-04-23T20:58:00.000-04:00

You were the last thought on my mind before I slept and the first after I awoke. Intimate stranger, made me kinda sad. I've been a little conflicted, been gauging my actions, analyzing what went wrong and what went right. When I woke up this morning, the coffee wasn't on and it slowly dawned on me that my baby's gone. There was an overture and a retraction, moments of mild awkwardness but mostly comfort. Guess I shouldn't be so shocked, guess I shouldn't be so surprised, guess I sorta noticed sadness in your eyes. But perhaps it was too comforting too fast and that could be the downfall of this. The two of us together couldn't make this house a home. I'm confused now and I'm not really sure what I want but this confusion could be attributed to either uncertainty because I don't want to pursue this or uncertainty because I've never pursued anything of the sort before. Maybe I'm a little bit relieved, maybe I'm a little bit glad. My conversations with our mutual friend have led me to suspect that perhaps on your end, it's a clear no. Neighbours can talk themselves into a storm, I'll survive.

But what didn't happen could. I leave the future open-ended. I retain feelings for you and something may come to pass... or perhaps we've reached a dead end.

Ain't it funny, one of life's big jokes
Thought you'd gone for good but you'd only gone for smokes.

A Blur

2006-04-22T21:24:00.002-04:00

A typical bottom, an embarrassing top, a much-needed belt, a pink heart-studded muffin, a saltshaker, you who did not call me, you who reeked of pot, i who reeked, you who is sweet to her but to me allot 20 min, three divas and everyone who wants to go to the Madonna concert. I think I feel typical, I've run into them, I've run into the one I feel I should condemn. It was strange, the energy, its focus kept shifting, from up to down to out to up. The dyke with low-hanging boobs yelled forcefully into his ear until I rescued him and we fled, leaving her with her next victim. Back upstairs, I was the gem of her eyes and I pulled her by the hand and led her down down down. Not so smooth there tonight. I tried to move but it was a little forced, and he'd already left because I irritated him. Then the last man left me standing and I skipped down the street and disappeared into the night.

Recent Events

2006-04-19T13:37:00.000-04:00

Bacio bacio, not one but two. I'm afraid of what is to come. Silently, I waited on your doorstep standing on one foot, then the other. Later on, I erupted in my shower into classical tunes I've never heard only to scare the neighbour into knocking my door. I hid in a corner until it passed, then I tried to sneak out only to be caught.

And then there was the night you tried to introduce me to one of your friends who claimed to know me already and she sold me a $14 margarita that tasted like water. Next item on my shopping list: a blender!

Bacio

2006-04-18T23:29:00.000-04:00

I bought a big box of Baci at a recent trip to Highland Farms and now I can't stop opening them, not because I'm addicted to chocolate but because I'm addicted to the cheesy messages inside. They give me a sense of satisfaction. For example, I treated myself to a Bacio today and I got the following message:

Amo non solo essere amato, ma anche sentirmelo dire.

Eu não gosto só de ser amado mas também de ouvir-lo dize.

No sólo me gusta que me amen, sino que me digan que me aman.

J'aime non seulement qu'on m'aime, mais qu'on me le dise.

I like not only to be loved, but to be told that I am loved.

Photo indiscrète, why hast thou betrayed me!

2006-04-17T23:49:00.000-04:00

Cameras are vile, repulsive things that just won't let you forget about all the silly things you've done under the influence... I think that whoever invented the blasted contraption should be shot!

Rebirth

2006-04-16T17:21:00.000-04:00

I strolled up Yonge street today in my 'hood. It's a beautiful 16 C with clear skies and a brilliant sun. Everyone's out and about. Rob was strolling outside with his girlfriend, I was walking arm-in-arm with mine. The area's got enough of a community feel that we ran into a few people we knew but it's large enough that when we saw Rob and his girlfriend in the Starbucks we were about to enter, we both ran out giggling and went over to another Starbucks.

I love this time of the year. I've heard a lot of people complain about it because they find the weather is unpredictable. It's like showing them the good stuff and immediately taking it away. But I look at it as little bursts of hope. It's like little reminders that summer's on the way... a new beginning, lush grass and blossoming flowers. I love to see nature's rebirth unfold. And I walk, hand in hand with my inspiration, looking fondly at the sunglass-clad middle-aged ladies going about their business, young couples in love and the single folk with a glimmer of hope in their eyes.

Dehelvi

2006-04-15T08:58:00.000-04:00

Mann tu shudam, tu mann shudi
Mann tann shudam, tu jaa'n shudi
Taakas nagoyad ba'ad azee'n
Mann deegaram, tu deegari

I have become you and you have become me
I have become the body and you have become the soul
So that noone may from henceforth say
That I am separate, and you are separate.

Scratch me if you love me

2006-03-28T14:16:00.000-05:00

I have a huge scratch on my nose from the weekend. My nephew saw me after a week and he went into complete shock for half an hour and stared at me without blinking. Then he gently lifted his hand to my face and felt my cheek and then my nose. And then he got all excited and scratched me all over.

I guess I have a real maternal side to me because as he fell asleep in my arms and his body felt limp, I felt a satisfaction and a sense of belonging unlike anything I've felt before. I'm not ready for this yet but someday, I will adopt. And before any of you shoot me down for trying to be like Angelina Jolie, let me say that I've wanted to adopt since BEFORE she adopted!

A Ray of Hope

2006-03-21T14:15:00.000-05:00

She's right, I think. In her own words, she whispered into my ear one thing. That love cannot be forced, love can only be found, so love yourself first, then in others it shall abound. Do the things you love, pursue your interest, don't worry about finding love my dear, destiny will do the rest. This is what she told me, she whispered it in my ear, this is how she gave me hope, dispelled my silly fear.

I went home for lunch and...

2006-03-20T13:29:00.000-05:00

I took the bottles of booze out of my fridge and dumped them down the drain. Then I scrubbed the entire apartment clean. I took my gym clothes out of the closet and arranged them on my bed as a reminder for this evening. It's time to get my life back on track.

Desire

2006-03-10T13:27:00.000-05:00

I became aware of my desires last night. As I held you close, I could feel something awaken in me, a longing, a yearning that I rarely acknowledge, perhaps only under extreme intoxication. But it's a need that I have, that I've suppressed, that I question constantly, that has led me to this act of desperation, in holding you. They say that when it happens, you know. Well, I don't, everything is a little hazy and it's distorted the image of you that I should have in my mind.

Mohabbat ki...

2006-02-25T23:45:00.000-05:00

Mohabbat kee jhooti kahani pay roay, kahani pay roay
Badi chot khaee, javani pay roay, javani pay roay, javani pay roay

Na socha na samjha, na dekha na bhala, teri aarzoo nay humay maar dala
Teri pyaar ki meherbani pay roay, roay

Khabar kyaa thee honton ko seena paday gaa, mohabbat chupa kar jeena paday gaa
Jeeyay toh magar zindagani pay roay, roay

Parallels

2006-01-21T12:57:00.000-05:00

I had a strange, disturbing dream last night in which I broke a glass that shattered everywhere and my sister consoled me as I swept the glass shards off the kitchen floor. In reality, however, it was a glass full of ice that I spilled right onto his crotch and then the other one became my saviour later in the night as I stood immobilized, clamped up. I can't believe that people like that exist in the world. All I feel is gratitude for the persistent support I've received in face of the guarded temperament I've offered them.

And the night ended with a lengthly conversation avec l'un qui me désire mais je ne peux pas dire que j'ai les mêmes sentiments envers lui. And though I entertain the possibility sometimes like I did last night encore une fois, deep down in my heart, I think I know que jamais ne ça se passerait. How can I compromise now quand j'ai décidé de prendre la rue difficile pour m'apercevoir de ma raîson d'être.

If...

2006-01-19T20:18:00.000-05:00

If the Conservatives win Monday, I might as well move to the States because it'll be exactly the same thing...

Reminiscing

2006-01-12T09:29:00.000-05:00

I'm wearing a parrot green today and I remember the days of the neatly partitioned hair and the night of the angel wings, now hung neatlhy in a plastic cover in my closet. I remember the small townhouse and the humid basement with wallpaper showing a view of earth from space. There was Julie with whom I compared my complexion and then there was Julie with whom I shared my first glass of white wine that Tara brought us. She was a good hostess though she didn't have to be and I shamelessly sent her my phone number and she actually called and left me a message. I remember being drawn to the little alternative scene in which my artistic side thrived. Then came the gay community which eclipsed everything else for what seems like forever. I retracted to my roots, I rejected what didn't make sense but it's still a source of turmoil to me. I was self-conscious and carefree at the same time. I took on the insecurities of others. I remember Barbie Girl and I sat in a corner and feigned invisibility. I cast aside his interest and he moved on; I stayed in my corner. I was distressed at the sight of the one who had cut her finger and hurled at me; I retracted. Then there was the night I relived the scariest night of my life and I was surprised to discover that although I was no longer a child, I still felt the fears I did as a child. I remember numbness and the inability to feel due to the sense of lost innocence, a childhood stolen. I remember the confrontation and I remember pushing out anyone who tried to penetrate that shell. Gifty was the first one I confided in and she helped me through but now we've fallen out of touch. I'm not sure why I changed but I think that the person I used to be matches a lot more with my personality.

In the Apple, I found meaning...

2006-01-11T09:20:00.000-05:00

Oh mon dieu, I never learn... but then, how can you not indulge when you're in the Big Apple, a city of dripping of excess that seems so natural. Solo trips always give you a much better insight into the kinds of things you enjoy and while I did teeter on the edge of alcohol poisoning, the important thing is that I came out with an important realization. Maybe it's me getting old or perhaps it's my liver that can't take it no more but I can't go on these binge drinking, hedonistic bouts of mine. But no, I think I exaggerate... it really wasn't so bad. New Year's Resolution: for the love of the god, go on vacation to someplace other than New York!!

Not going

2005-12-24T13:33:00.000-05:00

I couldn't not heed to the warning voice in my head so I called the airline and cancelled my flight. I still don't know exactly why but I fear that if I had gone, something terrible might have happened.

Random ramblings

2005-12-13T20:26:00.000-05:00

They don't forgive easily, that's one thing I've learnt about them. Perhaps it's because they don't forget easily. And things in life shouldn't be that way. You have to pay the price for your mistakes and tally up your losses, extract your lessons, formulate values and move on. Perhaps those who forgive too easily lose their allure just as easily. Could this be why a strict God commands more obedience than a gentle God?

I don't know. Lately, I've just given up on religion. It was days when it actually mattered to me that I debated about it. Now discussions that try to invalidate religions based on minutiae that don't make complete sense are starting to bore me. If looked closely enough, every religion is flawed that way. So I guess you have to mould yours according to what you believe. Perhaps that could be interpretation. I don't know. Are religious scriptures not the word of God? My acquaintances were incredulous when I proposed they were. Has the idea that they're not gained common acceptance?

Times change, the human race changes. Yet I find it a little depressing to admit that there might not be an afterlife. What then of the poor in India and Africa?

Then there are small gestures that warm your heart like my co-workers who brought me back some chocolate just because they know I love it so much. I guess it wouldn't have meant as much to me if it were my birthday or some special occasion. I guess it is true that the best gifts are the ones you're not expecting. I guess this lady I know who just got pregnant (without wanting to) wouldn't quite appreciate that saying...

More crap...

2005-12-10T09:07:00.000-05:00

It seems like I've surrounded myself with people who just don't give a fuck. I went through this last year. I looked through every entry in my phonebook and I deleted every person who called me only when they needed me and ignored me when I needed them, or people who try to put me down. And I'm a lot happier for that. Now I've surrounded myself with a new group of people and I feel like cutting all of them out as well. Why are people like this? Is it just me who attracts such people or is the world just one blob of self-obsessed individuals?

I honestly feel like running away to a warm, tropical place so I can get away from the human race for a bit.

Silent treatment

2005-12-07T21:48:00.000-05:00

I fear that I'm alone in this world. With severed ties, I stand, accused. But I maintain that I didn't wrong you. If you want to, blame my conscience. My heart had pleaded me to maintain silent approval but I just couldn't watch you self-destruct. We're adults but does that mean we don't need guidance anymore? Is the offering of advice such a grave sin that you will set up a barrier of formality between us?

I'm sorry but I can't offer you the same indifference you find in others.

Heavy heart gets lighter by your side
But there are thoughts I wish I'd heard
If they ask you how I'm holding up
Say I'm holding out for the words.

Maybe in the apple I'll find joy

2005-12-05T20:27:00.000-05:00

I'm an emotional being whose emotions gravitate towards those around him. He's special to me, this one, and I feel I'm sinking with him. I'm afraid he's throwing his life away. What can I do? I am just another voice in his head and he doesn't know what he wants. How can I blame him when I don't know what I want? I have the wisdom of years. I was there, now I'm here; things haven't changed much. I know what I must do but I still don't do it. I must be a masochist.

Ever since I returned from the apple, I can't get it out of me. It has seeped into me and now all I think of is the apple and I hope to find joy in it. I have the apple inside me but will I get to eat it? I guess I won't know till I make an attempt. Perhaps it'll disappear from my palm or I might get to taste its sweet juicy flesh filled with lust and promise that has lured many for centuries.

Through with this BS!

2005-10-15T23:19:00.000-04:00

I have fucking had it. And all over a bloody laundry basket too! My laundry basket is *NOT* a bin! I freaked out because she used my laundry basket for fucking garbage! And I don't care if there was a bag separating the basket from the garbage.

I guess this has been brewing for a while. I don't lose my cool that often. But I've been sitting like an ass and whining continuously. It's time to take some action! I give myself 8.5 months; that's financially viable. It's necessary because if I don't do it, I'm going to rip my heart out of my chest and stomp on it until I fucking get that I have to do this!

The Curse of the South Asians

2005-10-13T09:20:00.000-04:00

I was sitting in the train, half-awake, listening to some music, when all of a sudden I smelled it. I frantically smelled my own clothes to ensure the smell wasn't coming from them. You can smell it in our clothes, our hair, our kitchens. It seeps into the house, can be smelled from outside the house, or when you come back home after a trip having left the house empty for days. It's something we're petrified of and we spray cologne repeatedly to get rid of - the smell of tadka.

Resolve

2005-10-10T23:07:00.000-04:00

I've resorted to listening to ghazals. When you descend into this hopeless state, it's comforting to listen to words that are equally hopeless. I can't say I've had the best Thanksgiving weekend... I'm descending into this mopey state. And I don't want to. I need to pull myself out and make things happen. No more sitting around. I am taking my life by the reins.

Mohabbat main naheen hain farq jeenay aur marnay kaa
Ussee ko dekh kar jeete hain jiss kaafir pay damm niklay

Fingers crossed

2005-10-04T08:55:00.000-04:00

I bought a lottery ticket for the Princess Margaret Hospital last night. I figure that if I don't win, I've donated money to a good cause and if I do win... well, then I'll pack my bags and catch the next flight to Nepal.

In recluse...

2005-10-03T17:03:00.000-04:00

I feel like such a recluse. I live in a town of 50,000. My journey back home is through farmlands and fields. There are cows and sheep and goats and the hills in the distance. The stars are visible at night and I feel tempted to count them. I keep going till I lose count, lying in the comfort of my balcony wishing I had a hammock. I'm getting used to this. I'm starting to prefer the quietness of this town compared to the chaos of the city. I've barely begun my life and I want to retire. I want to run away and live deep in the Himalayas, solitary. Life was not meant to be this complicated. I crave simplicity, a moment to pause and think. But I wonder if I could live without all I have come to take for granted: hot water, Internet, phone, ... I don't even have religious motivation to carry me through the lack of these things. But living here, I'm beginning to think that perhaps I could do it. I could run away to Nepal and spend the rest of my days as a recluse...

And so the years went by
Within my rocky cell
With only a mouse or bird
My friends, I loved them well.

"I can't even hold him"

2005-09-27T21:37:00.000-04:00

It broke my heart when I heard that. I never realized that giving birth is so difficult. I was under the impression that the 9 months prior to delivery are the hardest. Little did I know. When a part of you separates from you and becomes another entity, you still feel like it's a part of you. She keeps him next to her so she can look at his face. It breaks my heart everytime I see such pain, such sacrifice. When he cries, the agony on her face is visible but she can't even go upto him to hold him and comfort him. Please God, you've given her this boundless love. Don't make her go through this pain now.

Film Festival

2005-09-16T10:07:00.000-04:00

The film festival is in town and this is the first year that I've really been to see several films. Besides the huge bump in prices this year, one of the other noticeable aspects is the massive lineups. Everywhere you go, you see people lining up: to buy tickets, to print tickets, to enter theatres, for rush tickets. I guess it's only natural to socialize with your neighbours in the lineups you spend hours in and one tends to meet some very interesting personalities. I met the pregnant woman who can't help but comment on everyone's attire and then laugh uncontrollably (she's going to have a real jolly kid haha), the group of 30-something women who plan on staying single forever if they have it their way, a middle-aged Indian woman isn't really there for the film; she wants to see John Abraham. Then there's some people you'd rather not meet like the queen who condescendingly pointed out that he's watching 50 films this year and had this air of superiority about him which vexed me to no end. That was a long 2 hours. All in all, I can't say that the lineups were too bad (the cute Motorola spokesman helped). I ran into the middle-aged Indian lady on the subway this morning (for the third time) and she accused me of stalking her all over the city. It turns out that her dream finally came true - she ran into John last night and she cornered him. She referred to him by his first name as if they were very close acquaintances. Yup, you meet some very "interesting" people here in Toronto.

Another one of those moods...

2005-08-28T22:09:00.000-04:00

There's a park at a short drive from my house where I like to go sometimes. Once, I was just driving around and the road ended in a parking lot. And there it was - a small park surrounded on all three sides by the lake. There's an old abandoned ship there. That night, there was a full moon, the wind blew strongly against my face and my heart filled with joy. I wished that I were there with that special someone whose hand I could hold as we sat on a rock in the darkness, in the city but still solitary, and looking out at the shimmering water, croon in his ear:
"Tu mila tu yay ehsaas huwa hai mujhko
Yay meri umr mohabbat ke liye thodi hai
Ik zara sa gham-e-dauran ka bhee haq hai jiss par
Maine woh saans bhee tere liye rakh chodi hai."

Give her a chance...

2005-08-21T17:30:00.000-04:00

I have to say that I am quite appalled over what a big issue Michaelle Jean's separatist vote has become despite her recent statement that she is devoted to Canada. That was decades ago, people! The political landscape of the country has transformed since then. In the time I spent in the separatist heart of Quebec, I began to understand the separatist movement. It's a whole different world out there; it feels like a different country. And that's not to say that I am separatist; I think that Quebec is an integral part of Canada. So many great things have come out of la belle province.

But I think that sentiment has changed in Quebec since the referendum. Globalization has led to realization that we have to stick together to move forward. My mère d'accueil told me that she feels like Quebec needs outside help to sustain it's beautiful culture. They need more people to move there because the employment situation - at least in the Saguenay region - is quite dismal. It was almost as if she was inviting me to move there. And all the jeunes du Québec are learning english and spanish. I think that perhaps they realize the threat of globalization much better than we - being the dominant culture of the country - do.

Five weeks there made me appreciate the struggle of a pays (that's what they call themselves) to keep their culture alive. Michaelle Jean has lived there for years, through racial strifes and political uncertainty. Let's cut her some slack! After all, she wouldn't accept the position of Governor-general of Canada if she didn't support the country.

'Great' minds think alike

2005-08-20T01:12:00.000-04:00

A few days ago, I was talking to one of my friends and she mentioned how if she were to die the next day, she would have no regrets; she felt like she'd experienced everything life had to offer already. What was remarkable though was that she expressed exactly the same feelings I've been feeling now for a few days.

We'd had a lot of discussions about religion in the past and it had been a constant source of turmoil for me - which path is right and which isn't? We had two mutual friends, one Hindu and one Muslim, both devout, both who deeply respected each other but believed that their religion was right. Deep down, they had to believe that the other was wrong. How can you reconcile the cycle of rebirth with the notion of heaven and hell? She once asked me why I was so concerned. Did it really matter as long as you did good? She didn't believe there was anything after death; this body is an empty shell and once we die, the energy that makes us function leaves our body and joins the Universe once again without any memory of what it had been in a previous lifetime.

I've been thinking a lot about that lately. A recent trip to the zoo seemed to scream out that evolution is real despite the claims that we were created from clay, custom-made by God Him/Herself. So why are humans more special than animals or plants? Why do we have souls and they don't? Why are we the focal point of the Universe? Why do we form such a big part of God's great scheme of things? I mean... heaven can not be heaven for me because I am human for my undying curiosity and if I have all my heart desires, I will get bored and if I don't get bored, then I'm not human anymore and if I'm not human anymore, then I won't really be who I am now and I'm not who I am, then why should I care now about what happens to me then? And karma and dharma, well, that makes more sense but I have no recollection of what or who I was in my past life so how am I supposed to evolve into a more enlightened being...

So what is there to my life? Doesn't seem like there's much of a higher meaning. Perhaps this is it! Perhaps everyone here on earth is here for one simple reason: their ancestors had the desire to live and to leave their seed on earth. Those who didn't perished. And if there is no higher meaning to my life, why bother? Why make ties with money and a career and a mortgage and children... why? I'm not suicidal but if I were to die tomorrow, what would change?

Perhaps I should become a sanyasi and move to Nepal somewhere deep in the heart of the Himalayas where I can live with the monks and renounce all things worldly... but then I'd have to be devoted to the One and I don't know if I have that devotion in me, at least right now. I don't know if I'm ready to make up my mind about what is right and what's not. Logic has this strange way of deserting you when it comes time to apply it in a real-world situation.

We ended the phonecall with the knowledge that we would most likely follow in the footsteps of our ancestors. There's no use fighting it. But if we were to perish before ensuring that our lineage will continue, we would be okay with that.

I am farmer descendant

2005-08-19T13:32:00.000-04:00

How do I know, you say?

There was lightning and thunder, it got darker than nighttime as thick black clouds rolled in. I saw lightning strike a building. Some of my co-workers got scared, others were worried about how they would get home.

My Indian co-worker and I moved closer to the window and gazed outside dreaming of verandas and freshly-cooked pakoras. And as the rain started falling from the sky, my heart was filled with joy, one that bubbled forth energetically, that I couldn't suppress if I tried, that took over my entire body and made me sit by the window for half an hour staring out at the overcast skies.

Funny, I just remembered how my dada used to sing to me: Kaale baadal aye'nge, aakar mee'n barsaae'nge, aakar mee'n barsaee'nge, kaale baadal aaye'nge.

Haha, definitely farmer descendant!

Rabba rabba mee'n barsa
Saadee kothi daane paa
Kaava kaava kaava
Ajj mera jee karda main udd jaa'n naal havava'n

And you thought you knew math...

2005-08-14T13:32:00.000-04:00

Statement: 4 = 5

Proof
(1) -20 = -20
(2) 16 - 36 = 25 - 45
(3) 4² - 36 = 5² - 45
(4) 4² - 36 + (⁹/₂)² = 5² - 45 + (⁹/₂)²
(5) (4 - ⁹/₂)² = (5 - ⁹/₂)²
(6) 4 - ⁹/₂ = 5 - ⁹/₂
(7) 4 = 5.

SPOILER: Don't read comments until you've looked over the proof.

can

2005-08-13T21:05:00.000-04:00

i-dip-my-pen-in-the-inkpot-but-i-tip-it-over-by-mistake-and-it-spills-all-over-scattering-words-and-now-my-desk-is-littered-with-words-that-do-not-make-any-sense-but-bring-out-a-thread-and-string-them-together-and-they-are-beads-that-form-a-necklace-that-tells-a-tale-of-a-boy-who-wants-to-be-a-man-but-he-is-caught-in-this-web-and-he-feels-like-he-still-has-much-to-learn-about-himself-that-will-make-some-of-the-awkwardness-go-away-by-replacing-it-with-surety-and-he-resolves-that-he-will-make-it-happen-no-matter-what-and-that-soon-he-will-fly-free.

Lust

2005-08-12T14:14:00.000-04:00

Ahhhh, qu'il est beau! Je pense qu'il s'appelle Alec mais je ne suis pas sûr. Il a un bon sens se ce qu'il est à la mode, par exemple, l'autre jour, il a porté une chemise rose qui était très mignon. Moi, je l'aime beaucoup et je l'ai trouvée à Club Monaco mais il y a seulement des tailles super-super-grandes. C'est dommage ça parce que cette chemise est à vente ahaha. Et en plus, hier, il a porté une chemise bleue foncée. C'était brillant! il a semblé rayonnant dans cette chemise. Il est mon chevalier en armure brillante, il est mon sauveur, mon raison d'être, mon soleil qui fait briller ma journée. Il est la lumière qui me guide dans le noir, il chuchote des phrases douces et amoureuses dans mes oreilles. Je le désire, je le désire plus que toutes les autres choses au monde. Oh, je mourrai sans lui... que je mourrai!! Ahaha, me = drama queen!!

Inconsequential

2005-08-05T14:59:00.000-04:00

I am inconsequential. I am a dying flame of the Universe with a sense of pride weak. And I'm starting to talk like Yoda. It's times like this when this social awkwardness takes over me that I become a blabbering idiot. But what is it, I ask you, that distinguishes me from the other 6.5 billion? What do they see in me, what do they make of me? If I were to die tomorrow, would it matter? No. I am inconsequential and I don't believe there is a great, complex spiritual truth. We are born, we live, we die, we are energy, we change form. There is no more. What if there is nothing after death? We die and that's it... we don't carry memories from this life to the next. But no, us humans are too egotistic. And what of accountability? We need a sense of equality and justice or chaos would break out. God is hope because we turn to him/her when hope is fading. God is the unknown because it helps us provide an explanation for the unknown. God is our insecurities because we turn to him/her to cover up our insecurities. And I am inconsequential, smaller than a fly, a speck of dust, an atom, a subatomic particle... smaller than all. And that's probably what I was to him, inconsequential.

Y él es flama que se eleva
Y es un pájaro a volar
En la noche que se encendió
El infierno es este cielo

Insomnia

2005-07-29T15:14:00.000-04:00

I can't sleep; I'm inflicted by a strange insomnia. My body feels heavy and taut, like I'm stuck in a cocoon that I can't break out of. But I can move because I'm tossing and turning sans cesse. I'm pleading to my mind to let me have the sweet bliss of sleep but it won't give in to the body which is groaning for some rest, just a moment to recharge...

The C Lounge

2005-07-28T14:55:00.000-04:00

I could see the sadness in his eyes as he sat there cracking jokes like he usually does. He's the chirpy one, seemingly immature, yet a source of happiness, light. And lately, the intensity with which his eyes used to shine has diminished. One could confuse that for lack of sleep because he has barely slept but that's not it - he's lost self-respect. He kept repeating "I'm a bastard" last night. I don't mean to discard infidelity so lightly but he did tell her himself, he was sorry. I guess his crime was harder to forgive than a simple fuck; he just kissed her. Poor thing, he can't even blame it on lust. But I can see him suffering. Men can often be pigs but it doesn't mean that they lack feeling. And seeing his pain broke my heart, he who used to shoot out sparks of youthful joy...

Smell on my hand for days
I can't wash away your scent
If I'm a dog, then you're a bitch...
I'm sorry for what I did
I just did what my body told me to do...

Confined

2005-07-24T15:58:00.000-04:00

It's weighing me down, this. In the confines of these four walls, trapped. I reminisce about the banks of the Seine but why? It was there that I spent an entire afternoon with myself and the magic the city spun around me.

Sometimes thoughts of eminent disaster can be strangely comforting. It's like the time when in my youth there was a notorious gang that entered peoples' houses in broad daylight, butchered them - sometimes skinning them - and hung them up from the ceiling. We spent many afternoons scaring each other with speculation about where they would strike next. It's a strangely sweet feeling, locked behind the security of doors in a dangerous world.

And then there was that night in Madrid in a club that was slightly bigger than my bedroom. The strangely animal quality of the performers left me in awe. It awoke something in me, something raw, something that filled my body with a sweet happiness. Perhaps that's how we were meant to be, humans.

I'm lacking that now. I've spun a web around myself to keep out the world and sit in solitude. It feels safe, keeping them all out. It's just me and me, like on the banks of the Seine.

Perhaps I am the love of my life 'cuz Paris was as romantic as they say. The narrow alleys of the Jewish quarter where I lined up for the falafel and tried to explain I was looking for a recycling bin for my empty bottle of cheap wine that I'd gotten drunk on. He laughed, he did, when I asked him, and then he tried to calm down my jittery nerves, and finally accepted a phrase in English which he didn't understand either, flirting a little. I sprinted out though and skipped off merrily, perfectly content in my own company. And now I'm thinking of the word caleçon and I have this strangely stupid desire to giggle.

Yes, I've trapped myself in a bubble and I'll get out, I suppose... when I want to.

I'm sorry for what I did
I did what my body told me to

The flight from NYC

2005-07-23T16:41:00.000-04:00

Oh, the lies that I've told... and without so much as flinching, without the tiniest pang of guilt. And all on his account. I know I wronged and I've had to pay for it. Dearly. And he has too. And I think it was this brought me to this realization. Et maintenant, je ne suis plus dans la confusion mais il y a aussi la tristesse qui reste quand qqch se termine... Je suis parti de New York à la hâte et je pense que je n'y vais pas... non, mes parents et mes amis ne me permettront pas d'y aller. How could I have forgotten... how could I have overlooked one of my basic beliefs? Nothing in life is for free... you have to pay sooner or later for everything you get. There's a universal balance. I was injust... but he was a fucking maniac too. And I have already paid for my injustice... and then some.

Flying through tunnels at the mouth of New York
Sometimes, I belong here
But it's funny how leaving turns the emptiness up
The hole you'd never heard before

The Other Side Speaks

2005-07-22T05:30:00.000-04:00

I did flee so I wouldn't have to face them and I returned to find them still there so I fled once more and I spoke to him... he, who is so taken with me. I told him of my désespoir and he listened, then he said... there's good love out there, just you wait, you wait.

Current Mood...

2005-07-17T21:10:00.000-04:00

O Duniya Ke Rakhvale,
Sun dard bhare mere naale
Sun dard bhare mere naale

Ash neerash ke do rangon se duniya tune sajayee
Naiyya sang toofaan banaya, milan ke saath judai
Jaa dekh liya harjayee

Lutt gayee mere pyaar kee nagree
Abb to neer baha le (bhagvan)
ABB TO NEER BAHA LE (BHAGVAN)
Ohhhhh... abb to neer baha le

...
Oh, jeevan apna vaapas lele jeevan dene vaale