Somewhere Along the Way [free verse]

I think I injured my heart, somewhere along the way
from Kingston to Winnipeg. I don't quite know when.
I remember that shin fracture, twelve years ago
in a dance class. Pain, acute, shrewd, stretching
a rubber-band at the threshold of constriction.

I think I injured my heart, somewhere along the way
from Kingston to Winnipeg. I don't quite know when,
I don't quite know how. It snapped like a violin cord
tensed in a diagonal between my chest and my back:
thin line, contained, faster than the speed in a red car.

I think I tore my heart, somewhere along the way
from Kingston to Winnipeg. I don't quite know when.
Somewhere on the highway we watched the silence
reflect cemeteries and empty branches in the mirror.
Something tore open which wasn't you, which wasn't me.

Here's My Guilty Pleasure [what is yours? and a poem too!]

I have to confess to my guilty pleasure. I have to put it out there. I have to make it real. I have to make it known. In the process, will I purge the pleasure and exonerate the guilt?

If I have to put my guilty pleasure in Freudian terms, it is clearly oral in nature. It's all centered around lips that can lick kiss bite suck suckle push pull pout, around tongue that can circle triangulate lick suck twist caress moist dry harsh soft, around teeth that can bite tear stitch suckle clinch stroke... And then there's the cheek, the palate, the gum, the throat...

(No, this is not a post about blow jobs!)

It's been a few weeks now that my libido seems to have channeled itself into oral pleasures. As a consequence, all I've been doing is eating, eating and eating. I don't think it's got anything to do with giving up smoking, since this oral fixation started weeks ago while I was still a smoker.

So, I've been eating. Not just any kind of eating, but a lot of junk. And not just any junk. In one day, I can manage my normal breakfast lunch diner + two chocolate donuts + four Mars bars + a pack of 150 grams of Doritos + a 200 grams Marble cake. Don't ask me how much calories this comes up to in a day: I stop counting the moment it goes over a 1000 calories. (Abashed! Abashed! Abashed!)

The pleasure is guilty in nature. I often lock myself up in my room with food and I indulge so that nobody can see me as I taste with the palate of an expert and emit orgasmic sounds. At other times, I simply hog in a barbaric way and I squeal like a fat pig.

And like this wasn't enough, instead of daydreaming of cute boys and erotic situations, in libraries, I now very regularly pine for food-orgies. I crave this Greek fantasy of a food-orgy, of eating, of filling myself up, emptying myself by vomiting and then filling myself up again. Aristotle believed that indulgence in eating pleasures (greed, satiation, immediate instinctive satisfaction etc.) was of as base a nature as sexual pleasure that sought immediate satisfaction. This doesn't make me a great human being, does it?

This being said, my sex life went dead over the past few months. You know how people say that "a vibrator can't replace a man?" Well a dear friend of mine often says that "a man can't replace a vibrator!" All I have to say is that a man can't replace food!

So here are two things before I end. I will first of all tag Astreus, Ferry Tales and Feral Geographer in this post. Why don't you three tell us about your guilty pleasure (and then tag some other blogger?) Does tagging work in the blogosphere as well? Let's try and see...

And then, a poem by Mandy Coe. Mandy Coe is a British writer whom you may be familiar with if you listen to the BBC. (Here is the link to her official website.) Mandy Coe wrote this delicious poem called: Go to Bed With a Cheese and Pickle Sandwich.


Go to Bed With a Cheese and Pickle Sandwich

It is life enhancing.
It doesn't chat you up.
You have to make it.

A cheese and pickle sandwich
is never disappointing.
You don't lie there thinking:
Am I too fat?
Too fertile?
Too insecure?

Your thoughts are clear,
your choices simple:
to cut it in half
or not to cut it in half,
how thin to slice the cheese
and where you should place the pickle.

From a cheese and pickle sandwich
you do not expect flowers,
poems and acts of adoration.
You expect what you get:
cheese... and pickle.

You want, you eat,
and afterwards you have eaten.
No lying awake resentful,
listening to it snore.

Safe snacks.
It comes recommended.

Navel-Gazing: Is It What Being Queer Is All About?

[What I am about to say in this post may come across as controversial, as unreasonable and probably as anti-queer? Please feel free to disagree with me and let me know what you think. I'd rather stir a debate than keep quiet.]

Navel-gazing, I said: the narcissistic act of always looking at oneself, at staring at ones figure in the mirror and telling oneself: "I am important, I am important and I want the world to turn its gaze on me..." I acknowledge that I am narcissistic in many ways and I acknowledge that we all are. I acknowledge that we are all passionate about certain things; and passion and hard-work are a combo that I respect and highly revere.

There are those who are obsessed with things they do, watch, like, listen to etc. So all they want to talk about is their work, the latest video-game, the last episode of their favorite TV show, Whitney Houston's new album etc. And then there are those who are obsessed with something that is very inherently tied to their identity: their age, their sex, their race etc. Quite obviously, both these categories-- what we are and what we do-- have socio-political implications in their own right.

My interest here is in the second category. It seems rather obvious that one would obsess over part of ones identity particularly when one feels that she/he cannot live this part of her/his identity to the fullest. Thus, if I identify as a transgendered person of color who is restricted and discriminated against on a daily basis through my everyday life (not being allowed to enter a bar), or through the bigger structures that makes one count as a citizen (not being allowed health care unlike other citizens); I would get off my chair, protest, cry, complain, shout, show my disagreement etc.

The two questions I would like to pose here are the following: Is there a limit to this shout of protest and is there a way to voice one's protest (i.e. how is one protest)?

These questions have implications that are inherently tied to the legalization of same-sex marriages in the USA (and more generally, queer activism in the USA.) If I am to be honest, I think I am getting sick and tired of the issue. On a daily basis, I read 20 blog posts on the issue, I receive 10 other mails about it and 2 out of the 5 articles that I read in newspapers deal with the same issue. Okay, granted, we are all still trying to get over No. 1 in Maine and Prop 8 in California. But isn't it high time to get over it and get activated onto other issues that demand attention? How long will we play the blame-game, how long will we continue pointing to the "hypocrite radical right-wings" or the "religious fundamentalists?"

I do grant that the issue of same-sex marriage is one that is close to American citizens who feel discriminated against, but isn't it time to move on and leave things to settle for a couple of years before stirring them against? If Question 1 has been repealed because of the vote of 52.7% of the population and Prop. 8 has been repealed because of the votes of 52% of the population, isn't this good news? Shouldn't we be celebrating that roughly 50% of the population of these states support same-sex marriages and that this figure can only increase with the years to come? Shouldn't this be a victory in itself?

Maybe I don't feel close to the issue because I am one of those third-world persons from an island nobody even knows about (Mauritius, lost in the middle of the Indian ocean-- not South-Asian and not quite African yet-- lost in an ocean of its own), maybe because ultimately I don't care whether same-sex marriage is legalized or not in USA, maybe because we're making something that's ultimately not-so-central to our lives to be our daily wine, bread and discussions? How long does the navel-gazing over the "oh-I'm-so-important-and-I-need-to-have-the-right-to-get-married" discourse continue?

How many people in the USA are aware of the fact that Jamaica now has a "gay eradication day" for example? How many are aware that it was just in July 2009 that consensual same-sex acts were legalized in India? How many people are aware that more than 130 Iraqi gay men are believed to have been killed over the past year because the Iraqi militia has been infiltrating internet gay chat-rooms with the aim of persecuting Iraqi gay men? Isn't the obsession over same-sex marriage in USA a new form of colonialism in itself? (Dare I term it "queer colonialism?") Isn't it time to look out and realize that there is a whole world out there that demands attention too?

And let us forget the rest of the world for a minute: Doesn't North-America still have issues of its own? What about health-care? What about homophobic crimes? What about the rights of trans-people? What about transphobia? What about racism? Does the fact that we now have chatrooms, gaybars, pride-parades all over the country entail that marriage should be the only issue we need to work on? How many of us have actually paid any attention to the amount of discrimination and harassment queer kids still face in high-schools for example? And how many of us actually stopped sipping wine in the comfort of our couches to do something about it?

This now brings me to the second question I had raised earlier: Is there a way of voicing ones protest?? I have a feeling that queer activism is losing all of it's punch and energy as an active term that triggers change and socio-political progress. I always thought being queer meant being active, being a moving agent that questions, that does not take anything for granted, that moves around by distorting things and demanding that they be redressed in skewed ways. At the moment, I feel that what queer activism has been reduced too is a passive process of self-victimization. "Oh we are victims..."; "Oh we are being discriminated against..."; "Oh they are unfair to us..."; So let us just sit here gaze at our own sorry navels and whine and cry and tell ourselves and whomever wants to hear how victimized we are.

I have encountered a lot of youngsters who had such flaky attitudes even here in Canada. Fine, we've been victimized at a point of time (and we probably still are) for various reasons that have to so with gender, class, race etc. But how long do we go on indulging in self-pity? How long will we keep our gaze on ourselves? When do we get out of such self-pity and activate ourselves again?

Wasn't it Freud (or Lacan, I can't remember) who posited that homosexuality is a pathology that can be caused because the small boy fell in love with his own reflection in the mirror as an infant? Isn't this why one of the cliched stereotypes that generally goes around about gay folks is that they are just full of themselves and are concerned with their own image and their own parties and their own pleasures?

If I have a question to conclude it is: When do we stop looking ourselves and when do we start looking out there and doing something concrete about what needs to be changed?

Two Notes to the Bloggers (and Readers) Out There

1- National Blog Posting Month:

National Blog Posting Month (link here) started today. Damn, is it too late for this post? I don't think so. In just one line, the challenge is to post a blog-entry every single day throughout the rest of November. Rest assured, I am not doing it, so you won't have to put up with an article by me on a daily basis throughout this month! November will turn out to be cruel month for me and I know my blogging proficiency will decrease over the next two weeks.

However, you should check out the website and also check out the Queer Canada Blogs group that has been created. (link here).If you are more courageous than I am, it could be a great way to connect with people in more significant ways than Fakebooc and dating websites, to feel a sense of community with other bloggers (queer or not) and above all, to challenge yourself into getting into the habit of regular blogging.

2- Canadian Blog Awards Nominations:

The 2009 nomination for the Canadian Blog Awards has started (link here). You have 20 days to nominate some of your favorite blogs and there are many categories. I know quite a few ones I want to nominate myself. So please do nominate your favorite blogs and if you think The Queer Behind the Mirror is worth nominating, I wouldn't mind either! :P

It's Official: U.S. To Lift the Ban on HIV/AIDS Entry [finally!]

A few weeks ago, I wrote (here) about the efforts of activists from Immigration Equality (link here) and their attempt in getting the authorities to lift the 22-year ban that of the U.S. holds against foreign nationals infected with HIV. Indeed, one still cannot enter the U.S. territories if one is HIV-positive.

President Obama has now made it official that the ban is to be lifted as from January 2010. Mr Obama signed the Ryan White HIV/AIDS Treatment Extension Act and declared that "if we want to be the global leader in combating HIV/AIDS, we need to act like it." He also declared that the entry ban had been "rooted in fear rather than fact." I am glad somebody actually finally brought up "fear" as a motive for what looks like rational action. Are gay men banned from donating blood and organs in most countries because of fear or because of fact? (That's a question that I shall deal with in greater details in an article that's coming up.)

The US is one of only about a dozen countries barring entry on HIV status.

My Blog Is Famous! [big grin!]

Yei! Yei! Yei! (A triple 'Yei!' is a sure sign that I am happy!)

This blog has actually received a review! You can read it here. That's so exciting!

A grateful note to FeralGeographer (click here), to Queer Canada Blogs (click here) and to all the readers out there who keep dropping by!

Announcing the Nigah QueerFest '09

It's on: The Nigah QueerFest '09 will be launched on Oct 23rd at the Max Mueller Bhavan, Delhi. For more details about the QueerFest (the only of its kind in India) please check: www.thequeerfest.com

This year sees the 3rd consecutive year of the QueerFest. I was lucky enough to witness the birth of the QueerFest, and even luckier to be part of it last year where I was also one of the performers during the Performance Night. It feels a bit strange to be away this year, and there are at least 5 of us who had been part of it since the very beginning who'll be away. It's heart-wrenching, really, but I am glad there are other people to take over: politically conscious talented youth with a radical agenda, working very hard and having fun all the way.

On the program this year are: the film festival, the performance night, panel discussions, the photography exhibition, a book launch, parties, social events etc. The overall theme this year tends towards Queer Fantasies. For those who are close enough, I hope you'll get the chance to drop by at least a few of the events.

Happy QueerFest '09!

A Quote [and a dedication]

[I would like to dedicate this piece to those four young women who have been so much more than just classmates to me over the past years. To Neds, Nisha, Namu and Supi... For still being part of the journey and because it's unreal much I miss you, and because I don't know why this piece makes me think about you.]

This quote is from Amitav Ghosh's Sea of Poppies. A novel that I not only absolutely fell for, but that I am working on. Indeed, Ghosh's narrative is the driving force behind my thesis-- albeit being the content itself! Those few lines from the book are probably the ones that carried me away the most, and in italics, the line that made me gasp for air...

"Now that the disbelief was no longer possible, a great uproar broke out and people began to mill around, gathering together their belongings, taking down their washing, and hunting for their pitchers, lotas and other necessary utensils. The long-planned-for rituals of departure were forgotten in the confusion, but strangely, this great outburst of activity became itself a kind of worship, not so much intended to achieve an end-- their bundles and bojhas were so small and so many times packed and unpacked that there was not much to be done to them-- but rather as an expression of awe, of the kind that might greet a divine revelation: for when a moment arrives that is so much feared and so long awaited, it perforates the veil of everyday expectation in such a way as to reveal the prodigious darkness of the unknown."

Grad Students From a Simpsonsian Point of View [two utterly fantastic small clips!]

I found those two videos-- they're just fantastic! They are both really short, and taken from The Simpsons and they give us a rather cynical glimpse into the life of grad students! (Link here and here.)

A Word of Thanks

Slightly more than a month ago, I threw my tantrum along with my distress up here on the blog, with this post. What seemed more like a cathartic act of frustration at the time resulted in an incredible expression of support of many who are so far, some closer, others who've have been close to me, many who are still close to me, and others who barely even know me...

I haven't updated anybody on what's happening over the weeks that went by because I was still working through the motions of it all. It's probably the ripe time now to thank EVERYBODY who responded to the call. All of you who left comments, who sent in e-mails, who supported me, who chastised me, who asked me to stop throwing my toys around and to simply put them in a box, neatly on a shelf so that I could start playing with them again.

Thank you, SO much. I'd like to thank that man too, who after an entire year without contacting me, sent me an e-mail. I am very grateful.

[And I should probably also clarify that I indeed don't care about the house, the job and the car!]

So where am I?

I am writing the GRE in a couple of weeks. I am also applying to two very competitive programs. I decided to stick to just two, however competitive they may be. Those are the ones that I want the most and that'll give me the space and resources to continue my work. Things may work out, or they may not... But at this point I don't really care.

If one takes the time to look around, one may not see any doors, or the doors that one may see may be locked. But always, somewhere, in some corner or high on some walls, there are open windows one can slide through. I've found many windows, and independent of whatever happens, there'll always be windows. There are ways and ways to do what one loves and all I can be grateful for is that I found what I love doing. I just need to play around with the ways of doing it now.

Yours with eternal gratitude, and with many good vibes...