IS THIS POSE RIGHT FOR ME?

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.

THE  BOTTOM  LINE?

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.

Advertisements

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.