Today

June 17, 2011

What a day it has been.

Emotional, beautiful,

A tinge of tough and different tides of love.

What a day.

Change, is that you

calling my name?

Your essence inked my soul.

I've been standing here bleeding in the rain

waiting for you to wash away what I feel for him.

I beg you, be fair and set me free.

Fate, is that you

whispering her name?

I called her to say hi, to know she's alright

But she lies and

I don't hear it in her voice.

The sky cries, beautiful sighs

And I pray with my heart, please let her stay

What a day it has been.

Emotional, beautiful,

A tinge of tough and different tides of love.

What a day.

Fearlessly, I have loved

May 30, 2011

I have loved.

In many ways, I have loved

You, me, him, her, them.

Like a daughter, I have loved

Learning of the unconditional, easy, difficult and primal kind

Them, I have loved

As a sister, I have loved

Fierce and to protect, a blood connect, she taught me how

Her, I have loved

As an aunt, I have loved

Protective and unconditional, the way my family loves

Him and her, I have loved

Through adolescence, I have loved

Discovering ourselves together; exploring, trusting and intense

She, I have loved

Like a soulmate, I have loved

Natural surrender, without intent or orient, platonic and true

He, I have loved

On my own, I have loved

Discovering within, someone valuable and worth it

I learned, and me, I have loved

As a woman, I have loved

For the first time, a man, complete and new

Him, I have loved.

Like a friend, I have loved

Without inhibition, expectation and recommendation

You, I have loved

At the end, I am content

Though love has lost and sometimes broken me

It has also taught, found and healed

Within me I known that

Fearlessly, I have loved.

Untitled

March 31, 2011

We were fated to be kind, disastrous lovers,

Confusing our own emotions

Like birds with vertigo and no sense of direction

In no way was he ever mine, my heart already his

He was like gravity,

Not responsible for everything that falls

I'd fallen in love with him

From the minute I'd heard him sing, I've wanted to believe

That he was meant for me and our love "epic" was meant to be

All of our little experience in love, lust and the lack of it

insisted that we try to be smart. And we tried so hard. We did.

Thus, before we began, we saw the end of it

A relationship with the potential of the stars and the moon

refused to start and ended so soon

Some days I wish we could talk like we used to

Back when we were real, too ready to feel

Then he became a figment of my imagination that made me want to scream

But like the birds and the bees have nothing to do with things that people in love do,

we have nothing to say to each other.

This is true.

Those Three Words: Her Muse

March 18, 2011

Three words you say after you've said goodbye,

makes me want more than what we have tonight.

I want to be allowed

to watch you when you cry, overcome with emotions,

overwhelmed with joy. Like me,

when we made love in the middle of this empty room,

on this stone cold floor. I want to

carve your name into every brick that has built this house and more,

because you with me,

we can make this a home.

I want to smile so wide, my face almost splits in half

with happiness

like I'm about to explode with the warmth you can make my body feel by even being in a different continent.

Inspired by newness, belonging, distance, desire,

the familiar and the unknown. As far as my words go,

my pen excitedly flies across paper, writing out thoughts that come out faster than my hand can keep up with.

I want to tell the whole world that I've made it till here,

that now I'm finally allowed to discover what I seem to deserve.

I love you.

Purple, Everyday

November 3, 2010

I logged onto facebook the other day,

someone tagged me in a post that said today...

wear purple.

Wear the color on your skin in honor of kids

Who lost their lives being homophobically bullied to death

A new concept

A virtual way of trying to make a difference

What you don’t see is that my heart, it bleeds

Every single time you point at something stupid and say

Oh my god dude! That is so gay!

It wrinkles me up inside, just a little bit

Forces me to hide from your careless whiff of humor

Forcing me to feel, like there’s something wrong in being me

You think its so easy to tag people on a social networking site

Pretending that wearing a particular color on a particular day

Is going to change the way my life is… the way I’ve been treated?

Is it going to change the way Asher Brown died the other day

A gun shot through his head

Seth had a rope around his neck and a tree

And Tyler Clementi was found, drowned, swollen, purple and blue

Did you know their names at all, does any of this even affect you?

Does it cut right through you, break your heart make you feel like your guts are on the floor, like I’m so tired of speaking up, I don’t have the strength to fight this anymore

This is the world we live in

Just because you don’t see it, refuse to believe it

Doesn’t make it unreal

Do these words make you feel uncomfortable?

Good. Maybe now you’ll see the shame they force me with

At what point did you decide that you get the right to have an opinion on

who I fall in love with, or who I want to spend the rest of my life with

Who said that you had a say in my life, my lover or any of this?

When they say that it’s a sin to be gay

I don’t believe they know what they’re saying

Coz if there is a God, he made me this way

With the ability to love without boundaries, without the limitation of gender orientation

I can love… unconditionally!

It don't matter if you’re a girl or a boy

I see beyond the body painted on your soul, right to your heart that makes you whole

I love you for who you are, not for who you cannot be.

Because that, it doesn’t matter to me!

I got tagged in a post on facebook today. Wear Purple, it said –

To fight homophobic bullying and make a difference.

What you still don’t see is that,

I’m a bisexual woman and I bleed many shades of purple, everyday.

My Decisive Core

October 20, 2010

At this crossroad of coincidence

I stand, in the middle of who I am

and what I must be

Should I use my voice and be free,

Risking what everyone thinks of me?

An activist of a simple situation

The need to love without boundaries and stereotypes has

Put me on this pedestal, without a mic

What words must I say to inspire you my brother?

The whispers of my long lost lover, my friend

who inevitably broke my heart at the end

My beginning, when I broke out of that damned closet

that held me in shame, In chains

bound to what I thought society had condemned was right

A liberation of a different kind,

The kind that most like me experience when they decide

That honesty means being brave about who you are

There is no shame in it

My past behind me has made me a woman that can be strong

Like my father,

unafraid of speaking my mind in the face of injustice, inequality and everything wrong

Like my grandfather

who changed his surname to defy the casteism it proclaimed

Is this my chance to carry on that legacy along with their name - is it the same?

Of revolutionaries gone before me who’ve inspired me,

to the cobblestone future lain out in front of me

What words must I use to inspire you my sister?

The stories of feminists who dared to live the life they chose,

instead of the ones expected of them,

lives without a tragic end –

Their love stories told of a strong kind of love we only dream of and imagine we could have –

But we can

When we decide that mediocrity is not enough

In this kind of love is Pride

I stand at the centre of my destiny,

the fates at their spinning wheels

not really sure which thread will lead me to my own providence

I look around and I see you

In your eyes, the desire to speak up, to change this discrepancy of a life we think has style,

to use your voice to mesmerize and make “it” happen

The words I choose to say today are not my own

This is not my future alone, but ours

We create this world that we choose to grow old in

We damage it, ridicule it, defect it, affect it and some days we suck the goddamned life out of it

Do you really want to live in a dead world without free love?

Mohandas said – be the change you wish to see in this world

The decision to be... lies solely between you for yourself

And right here, right now and in every single minute… for me.

15 Random things that make me (inexplicably) happy

October 19, 2010

T got this going, and I'm pretending to work for a bit... So here goes... 15 random things that make me inexplicably happy, in no particular order.

1. Hugs

2. A Warm bed on a cold morning

3. Subway musicians

4. Spoken Word

5. Watching people fall in 'like'

6. People with a good sense of humor

7. My leather jacket

8. Fun "it"

9. Good original indie bands in india

10. Homemade Southern Crumb Fried Chicken

11. Pay Day

12. Long drives/ bike rides

13. Dougie-ing

14. Lots of No. 8.

15. Men who can sing!

In Memoriam

In the scars of my face, I see you

A reflection of a sliver of your soul still alive

Your absence stares right back at me

I linger on with moist eyes.

In every picture I find I search

In the lines of your face

for a faint memory of your arms

holding me right in my safe place

I remember the trace of your hands

hard, strong and calloused

with a faint scent of your guitar strings

A memory I cannot lose

I miss your voice the most, I swear

in some songs, I can still hear it

faint strains haunt my heart

make me break, I cannot bear it

Looking back on your life I see

us alike in more ways than one

In ways no one can fathom,

I love you fiercer than the sun!

Achen

June 1949 - October 2009

Somewhere up there in the skies travels the soul of the first musician I fell in love with the minute I was alive. This week, I've been thinking of the many memories I have running around in my mind. Its a year today and so much has changed, but what remains is that the apparent strains that connect me to him are louder and clearer than ever. I will always wish I knew more of him and that he could have been here to come home to. No, we weren't picture perfect - but I loved every inch of the flawed lives we lived together. It was exactly how it was meant to be.

The Moonstruck Solitaire

September 26, 2010

Tonight for the first time, I saw the moon from high above the clouds,

just as we were flying into twilight.

The merging of lavender, blue and a distinct shade of purple enchanted me into a mesmerizing trance.

You could say I was starstruck... no - moonstruck by the clear white light it radiated, reflecting in my eyes.

The purest moonbeams in the sky.

As the night grew darker and I continued to be astounded by moonlight

I took my pen out to write down a free flow of words it inspired

Usually, when I've looked at the moon, I remember forgotten lovers and funny friends

men with a streak of romance and women with dreams in the mirrors of their souls

The wholesome moon has somehow always made me reminiscent of people I've surrounded myself with

or loved... in different degrees

But tonight, I look into the dark clear night sky and think of no one.

Not because there's no one I'm in love with,

but because I am content solitary on a journey back from the other side of the world

Returning home after thirty days of missing people I want to, choose to be near and close to

Tonight, I am satisfied to be alone

In a way that satiates me and makes me confident and complete

After a lifetime of craving this comfort

The evening star silently shining nearby reminds me that

Even though I've chosen a life that requires this solitude...

There always will be light shining on me, making my soul beautiful.

Getting by at BiCon (II)

September 1, 2010

Dear BOAF,

So last night, my flatmate, tall Paul fixed the kettle. Thank the Gods for coffee in the morning. I woke up at 4am and had hunger pangs like the devil! I tried tricking my mind into thinking I didn’t need food, but that didn’t work. After contemplating walking, in the morning cold, to the Atrium (which is about five blocks away) I decided against it, drank some water and went back to sleep. I dreamt about Underwaterseabird being a success and going places. That’s Spook’s new EP – it’s got some real good stuff on it and is a must have. Please go watch them perform at Hard Rock Café on the 9th of September and tell me all about it. I wish I was home for that one gig. Yes, I know – Artist Management is my calling and yes, I only do it in return for sexual favors.

By the way, I also have a fiery Scottish flatmate named Anne.

The culture shock here isn’t that much, except for the costumes that people here wear when its time to party. It’s incredible and super creative. (This is me wondering what Akshay would look like in one of them and then Amar saying – Te Sagla barobar aahe…) Did I mention the costumes borderline on hot? By the way, typical English food just got boring. Paul cooked dinner tonight – so… phew!

But wait, I headed into BiCon today and managed to find some activist inspiring workshops to be at. Most of the sessions here are more like workshops and it pushes me out my comfort zone. I finally got online today and sent my mother and sister emails, Varun too. Two days without an internet connection and I missed it. I went into a couple of workshops today, but my fever started giving me a headache and I all I could do was beeline for my apartment and hit the bed. My bed is very springy so I bounced back a few times before I fell asleep. No dreams to report.

Later I woke up to find that Paul had already been to the supermarket without me. He loves cooking. I love Paul. He made some Indonesian Redang and Mashed Potatoes with a side of steamed broccoli and it tasted YUM! I have a feeling this trip is going to be healthy - physically, mentally and emotionally.

Its cold here and that really doesn’t help that I forgot my jacket and sweater back home. All I’ve had till sometime earlier was Rohit’s jumper. Today evening was superb. I finally got down to the bar to do some socializing after dinner. Hugs from Robyn are always a good way to start the evenings. Then I spoke with a lovely woman from Dublin. A beautiful Indian woman came up to me and was excited to see another out Indian bisexual. We got to talking and talking and talking, then we talked some more. She had a friend with her who kinda, sorta was doing the kind of stuff you’d catch me doing back home. He was making introductions of people to people who they should definitely network with and he brought by a director. He was just superb! I forgot to ask him if he knew any publishers… dammit! Anyway, we then walked the pretty lady to the station and picked me up a free denim jacket on the way. Warmer is always better and fyi – people don’t really believe my directions around here.

My feet are cold again, back to my springy bed. Tonight’s dessert – Maltesers

I miss you’ll tons and hope you’ll haven’t been behaving yourselves too much while I’m away.

Much Love

Getting by at BiCon (I)

September 1, 2010

Dear BOAF,

Second day here and I can feel a fever coming on. It’s probably because I didn’t blow my nose while I was at a panel reading today. I was nervous – stop judging me! Anyway, it’s Day Two in London and I miss everyone back home. I feel like right here in the midst of these 400 bisexuals from all over the world, I am you’ll – my family. Jet lag wasn’t all that much; all I needed was to catch up on some sleep I missed out on, while on my way here. The weather here is a lot like the weather I thought I’d left behind back home. It is cloudy and drizzles a lot. The University that we’re at is close to the River Thames and is on the side of a dock that runs along it, so it gets windy most of the time. It’s not really cold, but can feel cold to my beautiful brownness! Did I mention that we’re also close to the London Airport? No, not Heathrow or Gatwick, it’s a smaller airport. All through the day you can watch planes land and take off while having a smoke by the river. They have rules against smoking indoors so people have to head out of the accommodation area to have a cig. Mornings are a bitch for smokers! I find it incredibly bumming out because the kettle in our kitchen is broken – which means no morning coffee!

Everyone here is so open about who they are, they are receptive and free of inhibition, but the one thing that is being repeated is that they ‘identify’ as something, which involuntarily brings with it this truck load of labels that are dumped out front in the driveway. Instead of having an environment that is free of labels, everyone has a bunch of labels. At some point during the reading I did today (of my piece in Robyn Ochs’ Getting Bi) I mentioned that I never really felt the need to identify as something or call myself something alternate to the ordinary. It was while watching TV that I learned about labels and tried to figure out what mine was – in terms of sexuality. It made me wonder if there are others back home who feel the same way. Did we just begin to call ourselves something, did labels never matter to you to begin with or have you always known of labels and defied them (if you do)? Also, does having a label make you feel secure about yourself? It goes hand in hand with ‘coming out’ doesn’t it? I come out because I decide that it’s time you know that I am… gay, bisexual, etc. What made us feel the need to give ourselves a label? Who started the concept of ‘coming out’? The reason behind coming out has suddenly become a bit blurred.

There’s a bunch of people being pretty and having a bunch of fun in a pub a little way off. I wish I could be there at it, bit what with this fever and all… No, I’m not making excuses and I’m not missing a particular someone, wishing they were here instead so I could be wildly creative with them in my plush little room, on a spring bed that would just be so much fun. I’m not even thinking about it – promise! I’m just trying to not fall sick and resting indoors – on my own.

I know I’m going to be able to put all this up only after I get to a place with internet, but just so you know – I’m thinking about you’ll and am proud to be representing our family. The concept of which, by the way, people here love! They now have this interesting picture of the community in Pune and can’t wait to get a taste of what it’s like to be a part of a safe space where gender or orientation does not matter. Birds of a Feather – I love you so much and yes, you’ll are the other reason I miss home.



Much Love

The Smitten Mute (Spoken Word)

August 10, 2010

She is my whirlwind of laughter that

Chaotically slips and slides across the room

Her eyes dancing around the faces that turn to look at her

Not stopping on any one of them, she makes her way to me

Her half smile, half grin, her sharp teeth biting her lower lip

She pulls my hand out of my pocket and grabs it,

Dragging me to the center of the dance floor

And we move

Partly to the rhythm of her heartbeat and partly to mine

My clumsy left feet don’t go a step out of time and

I can tell, this girl is something else

She wines and dines me, takes me out to our car

We go for a drive, trying to get as far as the moon

So that maybe I would lean out on a dream and give her the stars that sail by

We pull over to the side of a cliff and lay down in the moist grass

Not afraid of getting it in our hair she wants to

Kiss me under the night sky, in the middle of fireflies

She wants to hold my hand while it wraps around her and

Lean into me, just a little bit, so that I could whisper

Something to her that would make her want me

A little more than she probably does

But my stupid mouth couldn’t even get out… Words!

Again

August 10, 2010

Not again.

�

I feel the earth beneath me begin to give way

To that hollow in my chest, like something stuck in my airway

Unfamiliar ground with a sense of Deja vu

Something I should have known was coming, she wasn't something new

I think of her and I look at me, in my reflection all I see

Is someone I wish I wouldn't be

Then again,

You heard me out and said 'I warned you!'

You could tell this was coming, and that she wouldn't follow through

A calm voice at the end of the line, reassuring

Get out of this mess now, its already boring

My 4am conscience, my constant friend,

just when everything seems at its end

You remind me:

Change is about to begin

Again.

The Upshot

The cool night rain outside our window

Breathes a sigh of innocence

Not looking in on our hot tired bodies

Kissing the earth in reverence

She imitates a rhythm, an echo

Of the one we had a moment ago

Any other day, I’d be a content woman

Knowing there would be tomorrow

But tonight I cool off, in the silence of

Him breathing, with a taste of sorrow

Anxious and knowing the truth of why

We were here in this room tonight

There are no words, to call this an ‘it’

I let my reverie feel this bliss

The scent of this man on my skin is like

The flavor of his sweltering kiss

I pick up my things, get up and leave

Hoping that he won’t regret me

© 16th July, 2010

Love in Paragraphs (Spoken Word)

In the distance I stand, in your peripheral vision

With my paper in hand, I recite this emission

Of words that describe the way you move me

The way you soothe me

The way no one else sees you, and I,

I will love you in paragraphs

From the corner of my eye, I see you watch me

I could probably try to look smooth, but you see

I’m not, I’m just a mumbling fool

Who can’t get words out

Unless they’re written down

I’ve loved you in outlines and drafts.

Each story that I tell, each poem that completes itself

Is a rendition of how I almost said ‘I love you’

The other day

My heart gets worse for the spoken word, but I

Will still be inspired, my pen in hand

I'll be loving you with words I cannot say!

- © 5th June 2010

My Poise, My Voice – (Spoken Word)

In retrospect, I don’t respect

Things you’ve done and said

The way you used me

You had me confused, see

My love was blind for you, but I ain’t deaf

I heard you when you said her name

I saw you, see you – you’re still the same

Today, you’ll know

I’m done with your show

Of preconditioned mercy and affect

You can never know the real me,

You could never see inside me

Behind my face

My secret place

Is not for any pompous pest

That’s how I see you now

You’ve lost your charm somehow

We can’t be “friends”

Or make amends

A clean cut is what works best

You think I need you, I needed you

You think I want you, I wanted you

But tables turned,

My love has burned

The ashes made me a woman I respect

A woman with a mind serene

I’m more than just a figurine

Done with the lie

That your love devised

I’m happier than you’ve ever been!

- Apphia K. (May 21, 2010 ©)

Honest Whispers

May 18, 2010

I crossed paths with the purest love I’d ever know when I was younger. Almost three years later, it hasn’t changed much.

There is nothing else I can keep focus on today. My mind keeps going back to him. He is my safe place with a promise to protect me. Unlike the others in the past who have broken my heart. It makes him special. He seems to be someone I want, but I feel in my gut that maybe he isn’t really all I make him out to be. Why is there this longing - this want to protect and love? When I know that in the end I am not the one he will choose to keep. There is nothing left to want, nothing to have or to hold. Even memories of lives past and from earlier in this life are slowly fading. All I have left are images and pictures that someone else has taken.

He is a he. Do you see my problem? He is a he who will never understand what it means for me to be who I am and completely grasp my work. He is a he who has believes that I cannot want him in the way I could want her. But that isn’t true. I love the heart – his heart.

When I smile at him, he sees a friend who cares, and I do. Am I satisfied that it is all he sees? No. Instead of wanting to make him see, I want to be satisfied. What does that say about me? I will not change him; I will not change what he sees or believes. All that is in my grasp and control is me.

A quick gun shot to the head or slow invading poison? I close my mind and black out the emotion that does nobody any good.

It has been a year and six months. I’ve adapted to the numbness and ordained the ignorance that promises to be bliss. Sometimes there are wisps of memories in which his face flashes before me in my mind and I can almost hear his voice. What breaks my spirit occasionally are mornings, that I wake from lucid dreams, jolted from feeling his hand in mine, the warmth of his smile and the familiarity of his closeness. On those hot mornings I lay in bed, flushed and irritated. It couldn’t be meant to be - so what if he was the one who answered my soul call, so what?! That was two years ago, he didn’t even know me that well back then.

This is now. I’ve promised myself a fresh start, a fair chance at love again.

After a few months of strutting around with my heart on my sleeve, held down by an elastic arm band, I meet her. It is nothing like I knew. No intense familiarity, no obviously apparent understanding of souls. Like a new page with so much to discover, I could travel into her world and be oblivious to everything around. Not caring for what people thought when I was with her, she’s a she who gets it, they probably didn’t bother anyway.

We didn’t walk around holding hands, just proximity was enough. She smiles and I feel butterflies in my stomach. Around her was a gentleness and security and being with her was as natural as could be. I really like her and begin to believe that she is special. Her warmth is different, it envelops my fragile heart. I hear her heart beat in the still night; the delicate thumpa-thump is new. I like it, its soothing. I still retain all control of my actions and allow this to go slower than the pace of a snail walking slowly.

On a hot summer night, my phone lights up. His name is flashing on the screen. Ofcourse I pick up, but I regret it the minute I do. His voice, it makes me melt and become passionately fierce at the same time. He is telling me about a woman, another woman. I am not jealous of her; I understand his desire for love. He had let her go – I’m still not elated, instead I feel sorrow. ‘How is your heart?’ I ask him. My love, his heart – my heart… mine. My instinct is back - to love and protect. It will all be alright, I promise. Within seconds, I go back three years, only this time there is no confusion.

I turn to look at her, my angel, as she sleeps peacefully. I move in close and hold her. There is only one thing that can be done – I know what to do.

Storms, Growing, Learning and Love: the year that was.(dxb 3)

December 10, 2009

There's been a shift in temperature and the desert is now wrapped up in winter. It gets cold and wet here, its been drizzling in the nights. Still, the fact that winter is here, re-ensures that Christmas is right around the corner. Yes, i'm trying (my best) to be blind to the obvious birthday looming ahead. Today is my last day as a 24 year old.

I've noticed, that almost every year, I've been excited to turn a year older. and every year, I look back and love the year that's gone by. I couldn't wait to turn 18, but I loved being 17! I couldn't wait to turn 24, but I loved being 23! Can I say the same about this last year? I think I can, except for the part where I wait to turn 25.

To sum up the last year, I began in Bangalore. A phonecall from Ben singing Happy Birthday at 5am kicked it off and within 48 hours I was the happiest I'd ever been, with an incredible feeling about the year that was to come. I came back home, after a transfer and reconnected with Rohit. Then 2009 began. It pushed my strength to new limits. I lost a guru, a friend, my father and a few more family members to mortality. I found love and companionship in an amazing woman, who I promise to be friends with forever (or else... ). I have reconstructed my relationships with my mother and sister and have broken relationships that were unhealthy for me. I have grown as a woman and now have that unshakable foundation that makes me.

The last few days have given me the opportunity to mend fences, to find some more strength and understand divine forgiveness and unconditional love a little more. I've also learnt to trust intuition and have reconnected with my cards. I am thankful for the basic skills we are born with and promice to fine tune them some more this year.

Still in desertland, where the sand is fine and the money is expensive; I cannot believe I have to pass up the opportunity to party with fun-tastic women to go do other stuff. But then, i also get to give a voice class and hang out with the pretty girls (who dislike being called way WAY underage... ) I love them, by the way. Its the calm before the storm right now. I'm writing this while watching the news. I cannot believe my eyes as I watch the Peace Prize Ceremony. They're giving it to Obama??? Really?? Why? Esperanza Spalding is absolutely stunning as a cellist and a jazz vocalist. awesome! All in a day, the good with the weird.

I'll meet you on the other side of 25. Wise words anyone?

Of Patriotism, Memories, Women and more Exercise! (dxb 2)

December 3, 2009

I walked the sands of time, for over two kilometers. Well, not literally, but I walked for two kilometers, there was some sand and it took A LOT of time. The 2nd of December is National Day in the United Arab Emirates. The colors red, green, white and black are strewn all over the place. They’ve even made vests of the flag and I think it looks awesome! One of the banners that fly in the wind on the side of the highway reads ‘Our Pride, Our Flag’ and I immediately remember my first sentiment of patriotism. This is where I learned it. I can remember far back as 1987, my first year in school. Rati had dropped me to kindergarten assembly and I walked in and took my place during the song ‘Let’s salute the UAE’. Its been so many years since, but I can still remember the lyrics.

I met some family here. They were lovely women! We were supposed to for a barbecue, but instead went and saw sharks in a gigantic aquarium at the Dubai Mall. Sharks fascinate me, so do big fishes of all kinds. They have different snouts, which is hilarious. You should see them sometime, and it’s a completely different experience altogether. So anyway, the ride back was a scary one. The Incredible Tania earned her name by driving at 140 and getting me from Downtown Burj to Zabe’el in 3 minutes flat. Kudos to you miss! You know your cars and lanes and I am definitely belting up the next time we’re going someplace.

After my unforgettable 2 kilometer stroll in the scorching sun around the confuddling park, my tryst with directionally challenged local employees and a Dh15/- taxi drive by a Pakistani, dishing unnecessary details, to the other end of the park, I finally found the pretty and way… WAY underage women. *sigh* The things I do for a little bit of fun, I tell you. I reiterate, these kids are so worth it.

Its past 2 am and I can’t believe its December already, October seems to have just passed by last month. Every day is another day farther from where I was.

I miss Maria. I miss home. I miss the freedom and the flavor.

Anyway, there’s good news. Stephen Scott, director of research at the National Academy for Parenting Practitioners told a meeting last week that years of research showed results that proved lesbians made better parents. His arguments are supported by experts who have found, over years of research, that children brought up by female couples are more aspirational and more confident in championing social justice. And apparently, Daughters of lesbians are more likely to aspire to professions that were traditionally considered male, such as doctors or lawyers. Go figure.

What news of home?

It began here, with him. (dxb 1)

November 29, 2009

So it feels like the first day here in good ‘ol DxB, but there’s nothing old about it. There are a few places I recognize. There’s one just around the corner, a little lane where my dad had had an accident. I remember it like it was yesterday. I’m living close to where my nanny used to live. I remember my father dropping me to her house early in the morning, after he’d taken me to the hospital where I’d had an ice-cold shower to lower the fever I had. We’re in Karama.

Day before yesterday, I began a journey to where I first began. This trip, for me, is of epic measures – emotionally. As you can see, it is bringing back memories of my dad that I thought I had long forgotten. I am back where I was born. This trip was supposed to be taken by both my parents, but instead I am here in my father’s place.

Last night, we celebrated one of his closest and oldest friend’s birthdays, Aunty Indira. This is how it was here. Instead of having blood relatives around, we had friends who were our aunts, uncles and cousins. I never missed my extended family here. Everyone’s point of connection to Aunty Indira, was my father. I met some old friends, and made a bunch of new ones.

Trust me on this, you want to meet young, pretty and awesome girls, you have to meet these. It’s like I’m in paradise… except for them all being way, WAY ... underage. Haha! Irrespective, I still had a beautiful girl tell me she loves me. That made my night complete, I could’ve died happy just there. But there was more…

My little twist of adventurous insanity comes with the name Yovan. Strangely, I remember him too. He’s all grown up now, but I can still see that cute three year old somewhere in his face. There is nothing little about this insanity, he is loud, spontaneous and has a great heart. He challenged me to a bike ride, way after the hours stopped being decent for a while. At about quarter to four in the morning, we went to watch the sun rise. A first for me, even though I’d lived here for ten years previously. We went on two sports cycles and rode our ways to top of Gharoud Bridge. The smoker in me almost gave up, but the insanity was adamant. My legs ached in places I haven’t felt for years now. It was exhilarating. In true smokerly fashion, I pulled out a Malboro and smoked it, long and slow, once we reached our destination.

We sat there and watched the sky go light with dawn’s array of magical colors. Yovan is an amateur photographer, so he was busy clicking away, trying to capture on film the perfect frame. I watched as the sun came up, I wanted it to be a clear memory. There I remembered my dad again. He’d tell me how when I was a baby, I’d get super excited about going over bridges. There was the googly feeling when we drove fast up and down a bridge and thrilled about the fact that we were going over the ‘wakker’ (my 2 year old term for water). Whenever we saw the sun setting, I can hear my father’s voice reminding me how I used to get amazed at the ‘Great Ball of Fire’. Right then I realized, this trip is going to be about remembering him and moving on.

Three hours later, when we turned back toward home, it was cool and bright. There was an unforgettable shade of blue, high in the sky. We rode against traffic, and I dropped the insanity and the bicycles to his home and walked a little more than a kilometer home.

A great start to this chapter, I love being able to see here through the eyes of an adult and just before my 25th Birthday. This is a place I’ll never forget, an integral part of my memories!