Watch “The Horror of the Blade” on YouTube


Please do give this video a watch. It is a very heartwarming one. We have tried to raise awareness about the issue of female genital mutilation.

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Why inflicting pain on your skin is of utmost importance.

I know the fire is going to burn me, but i have to stay close to it, because I crave its warmth.

Time and again, we are reminded that human beings are social animal {emphasis on the word animal}. We can never live in isolation. We always need to exist in a circle; interact with different people; stay with the people we adore.

But sometimes any relation {and not only the one with romantic tones, can be father-daughter, friends, etc.} can fall ill, and as a result become a toxin.

In such cases, you just cannot afford to let yourself loose from the ties. The epiphany. Why? Because they are your family; they are the ones who are an integral part of your existence; they are the ones with whom you have shared moments and memories. 

The most effective way you ask? Just pick up a sharp object and dig it deep into your skin till the rosy fountain ooze out and paint every inch of your fleshy canvas.

What would happen? It would prove to be a great distraction. You would spend more time ogling the physical, rather than going onto the next level.

How would it help?

Whenever a scar appears {out of the blue}, we spend a lot of time looking after it; hiding it; covering it; healing it so that we do not have enough time to get our minds rolling in action.

And that is the most important point, to never let healthy thoughts get to your soul because you do not want any fodder for rejuvenating your soul and then traumatize it to get back to its pathetic self. You would never want to lose that person from your life; you would never want that toxin removed from your spine. And as a positive result {and this is great}, you would be covered in more and more cuts, tears and will be bathing in an enchanting scent of a wounded flesh.

Exciting. Isn’t it?

Written by: The scars on Andre_Gennie.

Writer’s Note: I am so glad to be covering up for him. He was destined to write a new post, but chances had it, that he hopped onto some urgent and important chore i.e. succumbing to my advice. So for a few days, you can expect me to be at your service.

Looking for my freedom

Looking out into the light in hopes of stumbling upon the missing piece of the puzzle

When I look back to my transient steps, I see a bubbly person commanding attention. To him, spotlight felt good; the only thing that mattered. He used to assert things with utter confidence. In short, he was a very bold and flamboyant person.

The winds deviated from their path.

Now, I am just a regular guy, who attracts ‘limelight-adjacent’, who is demure and shy, with suave undertones, but an inability to express.

What changed?

Is it the fear of being rejected? Is it the fear of not being good enough? Is it the fear of being very different from my peers? Is it the inability to adapt into the societal construct?

Whatever, the reason is, it has completely modified my foundations. The fear has seeped into my spine and now is circulating through my veins.

At the very moment, I am afraid. I am afraid that people would notice me; I am scared that they would have their fingers pointed at me; I am frightened that they would recognize me.

Because of all the scars and the hazy adolescence, I have learnt to be dominated, learnt to be shy, learnt to never answer back, learnt to bow down.

Still, there is a blurry voice, in the back of my mind that tells me, that I have to rise again, that I have to fight again, that I have to find the one thing that is keeping me from becoming a my own vanguard; the one thing that is my own fear, my own enemy. And that is why; I am constantly hiding and blending in with my surroundings. I am trying to vanish, trying to become invisible to the society.

But at times, I muster up enough courage to glance out of the window {secretly} in hopes of finding out the one thing that I lost; the one thing that I am yearning for; the one thing that I owe up to my past self.

The antidote to my sick spine.

Why I kept Silent?

These lips do not part at the time of distress. These lips do not voice for themselves

Why is it important to teach our children to respect the individuality or traits of a person?

A few days back, I was in Lodhi Gardens, a Delhi landmark with some of my friends. We were there for a small picnic, a reunion sort of thing. The place was beautiful. The breeze, the scent, the aura, Oh!

There were all sorts of people, groups, couples {a lot of them}, school children, joggers, etc.

Once we were there, I saw some children {probably 5 or 6 grade} fighting amongst themselves {you know typical petty things.} I wanted to be the hero of the story, so I went to stop the fight.

What do I get?

They started grinning coldly, asked me whether I was a guy or a girl.

Embarrassed to death, it brought back old memories.

In my old school days, I used to be the centre of their mockery, but I prepared myself for the circumstances {after all 4 years is a huge time to get used to.} Ever since I graduated from the place, I did not encounter all those taunts and comments {and in this period, I came to embrace it}, so naturally, I let my guards down.

Hearing that again, I was extremely shocked, my jaw was left open, my ears turned red, the back of my eyes got wet, but I kept calm, and as soon as I knew I would be vulnerable {yet again}, I put on a hard façade.

They even asked me whether I was ‘gay’ or not {and by that they actually meant whether I was a transgendered person, no offence but the likes of those, whom we encounter once in a blue moon.}

Words do hold power.

Then, I came to realize, that these pupil are unaware of the real meaning of the words they are using. How hateful and rude they are being to a certain community just for the pleasure of it all. How their interpretation of the lingo is so derogatory and demeaning. How they have never learnt in any of their textbooks to respect a person and her/his identity.

Why is that so?

Is it because, these people see me in a different light? Is it because, the dominant trait in me is that of a very feminine person? Is it because, the society has tagged me as different {not unique, weird?}

I guess that may have been the reason.

Anyways, I went on my way, while the words echoed in my ears. I tried hard to forget, but it is not the easiest way if that trait is the very spine of your body.

This made me wonder about, other peoples like me, who do not know how to be more masculine, how to get through this stage, how to face all the hateful taunts, how to ignore them, or in extreme cases how to shut them down.

Trust me friend, I am still looking for the answers.

Lady with a Beard

The headline is a conundrum! That is the very first image that any person would form of such a paradoxical clause. Whenever we talk about the term lady, we search through our mind’s rolodex and come in terms with certain unique features on the basis of which, we differentiate a woman from a man.

We reside in a world where anything is possible. Can there be a blur between these two {and I’m not talking about HERMEPHRODITE}?

Certainly there can be. And the term is DRAG {not Formula1}.

Drag is an art form of impersonating the opposite sex. Men who opt for an illusion of a woman are called Drag Queens. Similarly women who project an illusion of a man are called Drag Kings.

Stereotypically, a man is muscular, beefy and butch and all those widely accepted qualities of a masculine abode. To do a character of opposite sex i.e. a woman, they have to feminize themselves and then work to look like a stereotypical woman {though in the past there have been many deviant changes in this field}.

Though, one may seem to consider a drag queen as a transgendered/ psychological woman, but it is not the fact. Drag queens are transvestites for art purposes. Just like any typical model.

In many cases, the culture of drag is thought to be a subculture of the larger culture of homosexuality, but that’s not the case. A person, regardless of his/her sexual orientation is called a drag performer if he/she maintains a character illusion.

Let us talk about drag in Indian scenario.

In Mahabharata, when Arjuna was exiled, he impersonated a woman {or tried to}. People may see him in the light of a transgendered person. But instead when you look closely through all the loopholes and try to make sense of it, he was actually a drag artist; a character illusionist.

In the famous show, The Kapil Sharma Show, the female characters of Sunil Grover and Kiku Sharda are female. Analogy says that they both showcase the drag culture {in a derogatory way though}.

In most of the states where PRIDE is not seen as an important ritual, the possibility of being drag artists is next to negligible.

In the end what I or for that matter anybody would say is: 

IT’S NOT PERSONAL, IT’S JUST DRAG……………………………..

My Identity in Crisis

As a child, when I looked at myself in the mirror, I saw a guy who is feminine in his voice; his walk; his style; his ways. In a nutshell, I saw him as a budding woman. At that stage of my life, I would be so disgusted with myself that I would brush off this fact and turn away from the derogatory reflection of my own. In fact, I would make failed attempts to act like the boys of my age.

Now, fully grown up, teased and taunted along the way by the forces, I have come to embrace my pseudo-real self.

What am I? A man, a woman or whichever construct the society throws me into?

In an orthodox world, you are either a male or a female and in some special cases, a transgendered person {though, people would still question your identity and thus your existence}.

What if you do not fit into these categories? What if your identity is your existential crisis? What if you are the one who blurs the line between both the gender constructs? What if you are a man with a feminine side or vice versa?

Apart from the traditional gender identities which are ‘naturally’ binary, there are several more that might be less than a mile from you, yet remain unexplored.

There are different terms pertaining to those ‘disabled/unnatural/different’ categories such as androgynous, gender-fluid, gender queer, gender**k, two spirited, intersex, etc.

The aim of my story is to debunk and unearth precisely the label that I belong to {even if you are against labels, you inadvertently get trapped into one}.

When I think of myself as a being, I keep in mind all my physical, behavioral and psychological features. From the appearance, I am a fully functional adult human MALE body. On the contrary, when I would see my behavior and the repercussions {these repercussions would include the imitations that I faced and would continue to encounter}, I am a classy budding feminist female DIVA. When I come to the psychological side, I would like to express myself as a DIVA but also as a MALE.

In short, with all this narration, I wanted to describe myself as an amalgam of the extremes in a typical feminine and a masculine abode. 

Androgyny is the quality of having both of these characters at once. An androgynous person is one whose state of mind is essentially between that of a man and a woman. Hermaphroditic or ‘Ardhnarishwar’ is a similar term to portray the physical appearance of an androgynous person.

 Our identity is who we think we are. Similarly, our gender identity is what we think we are, and nobody other than ourselves is responsible to decode that.

SO,

Solve the puzzle and then celebrate your triumph.