Jack and his Spine

In an ethereal fiction lived Jack; a small town boy adorned with a clay spine. His home; the village; a stage of abuses and sorrow, took a toll on him.


Growing up, Jack was fascinated by the yellow brick road; a red carpet from the stage to the equally dramatic reality. Once he was ripe and blue enough, he ran the road leading to the Emerald City.


Tired, he took shelter in the Great Birnam Woods; the home of the notorious clairvoyant witches. The witches; scantily clad and wearing the robes of Hermaphrodite came closer. With their skeletal fingers and tattering hinges, they touched the pink of his cheek. The clearly horrified Jack walked past by the deadly apparitions. Before he could escape the mindfuck prophecies of those rebels, the witches all gave him a singular boon; a spine of gold.


With all his might he ran and when he entered Crete, he saw a man soaring up the sky. While the city was covered in the fog of darkness, he entered the only fluorescent building. In the middle of vain stood ambition; In the middle of the emptiness, stood a pair of wings. The wings as black as death itself appealed to an equally dark Jack.


He put them on and flew across the Pacific. But alike Icarus, he flew too close to the sun and fell to drown. He fell down in a leprechaun’s treasure. Although, the boiling gold repelled his skin, his spine amalgamated with it.

And that’s how the notorious prophecy was fulfilled. Alas! the tale of Macbeth reincarnated.


But lo! The kind owner came his way and gave him the gift of life.

And that is how, even though he died; he came back a new person with a spine of Gold.


When those eyes meet

When you were pink, those tiny eyelashes flickered. The world seemed like a forest and the waving symmetry represented the fluttering wings of a dragonfly. As soon as the sun set, the dragonfly lights itself up and so did you.

You looked up and down; a soft baby.

Time transformed you; from a nymphet to a belle and to a woman.

A woman; muscles within heart; carrying humungous amounts of slivers, attacking it from all the polish. What now was smooth is now rough. But you don’t let it show. Because you know, it’s better to keep those tiny wooden stakes stabbed to your heart, than to breathe out loud and puncture others’.


The moment when you look at me, I shy away

You meet him, her, it; a hermaphrodite; the male Aphrodite. Even though, you carry the earths on your shoulders like Atlas did, you happily receive the mercurial Venus and tend to bear its fruitful love. You fend of Nyx and give birth to Eros; a platonic son.

You’ve heard the tales, all of them. From afar, you can see Hercules nearing you. Although, you let Hercules carry your weights, but this time around, the grand escape is not THE prize, it’s a sorrow.

For a few seconds you let him take your world, you wept. You grab your duty; your right onto your shoulders again, but this time, it feels light. Alas! That thief plucked those golden apples from the orchard. You are weeping.

But you realize, history repeats. You’ll meet an Aphrodite and a Hercules again. You’ll go through the grief again.

Therefore, even if that is for an instant; the moment you look at me, you realize that the apples are bobbing.

And when those eyes meet, you’d realize the demigod is coming.

The Sailor and the Sea Nymphet


Looking outside, I do nothing but repent


One glance, one dreadful glance was enough for the voluptuous beauty. The walls crumbled down; Lord and Satan made love. Alas! The sudden affection couldn’t last long. Her turmoil made it impossible to forget him. In the tussle between the fleeting happiness of the future and the unforgivable past of emptiness, she sat still till she DIED.

MOTIVATION: All of a sudden, I had a few flashbacks as to what transpired these past few weeks, and this aided me in getting in touch with my vulnerable side.



I cannot think of any one person, who wouldn’t like to get out of their home and hand themselves over to the tempting morning dawn. On the other hand, in the summers like that of Delhi, a slight drizzle of rain is more of a cause of excitement than meeting the Wizard of Oz himself. So naturally, I had to get out of my house. The Sun wasn’t going to rise sooner than half an hour, when I put on my shorts and my shoes, and got myself out for a jog.

While I rhythmically moved my legs, the breeze turned into a strong gust of the wind and I was famished for more of that experience. I know that the tornadoes in my mind won’t stop spinning ever, but then the realization came to me quickly that these winds would certainly oppose them and continue to do so, till every atom in my abode cease to exist. With that, I continued running.

So my friend and I have this ritual, where we meet at a particular place and then gossip-cum-jog {but more of that gossip} about all the news which I’m sure, if published in a tabloid, would bring us hefty amount of rupee bills. It would have been a perfect day. I wouldn’t even have to write about this. But then again, it did happen, and I’m glad it did.

We were just arguing whether a Labrador was cuter than a pug, but we were stopped by a strange voice. We turned around and saw this man; he looked like a dad who just put his daughter in college; his voice a little heavy.

We stared at his façade, while he ran his eyes all over us, as if inspecting our anatomy. He turned to my humble friend and jokingly suggested that my motive to behave {the way I naturally do} was to make other people laugh. PERIOD!

Hearing him say so, shocked me, but to a much greater extent, amused me. Due to the realization that I had earlier, I wished to take a spontaneous yet radical step. I decided to challenge his as well as my limits.

I asked him to come a little bit closer and while he paid heed to my demand {I’ll, like to say an order}, revealed to him that I was a transgendered woman {no offense to any community, it wasn’t supposed to be funny, I just wanted to check if he had a good comeback}. At times, I do consider myself as a part of an elite group known as THE SADISTS, and that face, OH! What I wouldn’t give to see that for the rest of my life!

While I waited patiently for his reply, the expressions on the face of both my friend and the man changed. The expression on the man’s face changed drastically. His playful eyes drowned deep in anger with a little bit of confusion. His lips arched back to a straight line {which I’m glad did not show his pearly whites}. Though I wasn’t really concentrating on my peer, I did feel a hedonist taking over my body.

‘You know, you shouldn’t say these things to anybody. Let me talk to your parents. Why? How?’

‘Well, this is who I am and THIS is how it’s done.’

Chuckling, I gave an indication to my friend and we were back continuing to out tabloid talks. The whole time, we were at that place, I did look at him and found him staring directly over me.

Well, this incident, might seem as a concocted plot, but trust me it isn’t.

The reason, why I shared this certain incident is quite simple. We aren’t living in 17th or 18th century and even if we were, why do we have to hide? Is it really valid for them to punish us for being different from the masses and expressing who we actually are? Isn’t it better to be able to embrace self rather than pretending? I know that pretending might seem comforting, but on a long term, it really isn’t what you would want.

In India, whenever transgendered people are talked about, they are considered as an abomination. Even when we talk about pride in the LGBTQIA+ community, the transgendered pride is left out several times.

The last thing we need to understand is that it really is NOT unnatural or weird or any of those terms that would make you feel like an outsider or in any way makes you feel looked down upon.


That is for you to decide, what your bottom line should be, or what message you want to propagate to the world and to your next generations. Like any object in this world, intellects, wisdom, philosophies, they too can be passed down and passed down along a series of generations, thus making them more prone to acceptance. Hence, it really is on your shoulders as to what hash tag you want to popularize in the coming years.

Calling My Pride

I sit there looking funny, supporting other funny people.


The word that is associated with LGBTQ.

What does pride mean to me?

What does pride mean to the other non-LGBTQ members?

Isn’t being a hippie or a punk or a member of a minority subculture demands a PRIDE?

When I look into a dictionary, the only definition that satisfies me and doesn’t play with my mind is that of having a sense of positive ego, a healthy sense of narcissism.

PRIDE deals with gender identities and sexuality and the difference between the supposedly normal world and the queer world. 

Why should everyone be indulged in PRIDE?

You can say you are unique. But you are not. You are just a brick in the wall and you will always be that brick. Even if you are a famous actor, a musician or a soccer player, you still fall within a subculture. You are still surrounded by the people, who do the same job as you.

The difference stems in the popularity of a subculture or a group.

If you are from the subculture whose residents comprise of famous singers, you are more prone to enjoy fame.

But, unfortunately {not really}, if you belong to a minority subculture, you are shunned down, looked down upon.

So, it becomes hard for us {yes, I am a writer of the tribe}, to live a normal life. And that is why; PRIDE is an essential and important way to protest, to interact, to show.

And that is what pride is about.

PRIDE shouldn’t be devoured by them. Instead, this must be a time of the year, where different minorities who have faced prejudice; who are constantly fighting for their pride; who have been still even sustaining the torrents of bullying and violence.

PRIDE is a celebration of different, awkward, queer and not particularly LGBTQ. Pride shouldn’t only be about them, but also about the ‘looked down upon’ subculture.