Belonging

Tumbling away into the night full of stars, the guide waving from far,
Like a frozen misty morning ready to own your scars.
Beneath the questions, the answers, the protests, the pauses,
Did you believe there nurtured the anchor in the closet?
Oh, but your world is too filled with too many of you.
Too bad, I have always belonged here, and will always do.

Neither your unspoken glances nor the mirage of acceptance,
Not the shells you laid to make me walk the rocks of assurance.
I stood through the fire, the wind, the water, the space,
The Earth only classified as humans, never normal or gay.
You exist in boundaries and creeps, like no rules are meant to be defied,
Then again, love has no language- It’s just LOVE certified.

I am a beginner and a foreigner, I am accepted and discarded,
I believe in humanity which lays to rest across the noises.
Not your woven sweater of warmth you’d look for on a wintery evening,
But maybe the pile of wood, ever ready to be lit, for dreams and making.
A dreamer, a doer, an erupting ball never shallow,
If you’ve seen me smile, do not mistaken my tornado.

I will let the stars light by, and well if the morning sun pleases,
Here’s to my cross-dressing, the short hair, my choice of men, women or none- it eases.
You know when you are unwelcoming and all stares- I thought I’d make do with them all, pretending to be unaware,
And just be- with this revolving mystery of “Do I” or “Do I not” really DESERVE to be?

I am a human of varied emotions, a body with multiple reflections,
The pain, the shame, the acknowledgement, the despair,
Like my yearning soul who’s constantly looking for air,
And a catapult ready to shoot for the stars- as the vast sky may revere.
It doesn’t matter as long as I believe in my colors,
Blue, Violet, Red, Green- I essentially constitute the SPECTRUM, fair?.

My stories aren’t about how I don’t see myself a fit anymore,
My living dazzles around all that I’ve got to become, now and more.
I am a Diva to my dreams, a Dude to my moves,
I ain’t breathing shame in those locked spaces anymore.
My little song of freedom to this winsome, wholesome rhythm of hope,Goddamn, I have always belonged here, and will always do.

Maybe we should chat?

                                                               Courtsey: Google

Listen- I was thinking maybe we should chat.

You are under no obligation to say “Yes” but it’d be really interesting to get into your head and discover for myself these fatal, out-of-the-world, devastating- (metaphorical & literal)- ideas. I’m sure your brain operates vastly different from the most of us and that’s what really shapes you as the kind of being you are.

So, tell me- What is it that you notice first?

I’m not too sure but do you go to sleep with similar kind of thoughts or you’re thinking about it all day long or you’re just too inadequately supplied with the basic living essentials that you feel this is your gateway to being noticed?

Uhm, What is your daily routine otherwise, i.e. when you’re not at this mission? Or is this something that is not strategized and it happens, like one of our random dinner plans or a school bunk?
I want to know about your childhood- and your siblings, and parents- were you too pampered as a kid or they abandoned you for reasons unknown?

Was there a lot of pent up anguish, hatred, disgrace and detest that you were waiting to erupt at the next available opportunity or this was just one of the items in your to-do list that’s now checked?
Did nobody come speak to you when your synergy of shame or no shame overruled your essence of humanity and you were dragged into your first act, by choice or involuntarily?

Also, how was it? How did it feel? Powerful, Non-rattled, I-Am-The-Ruler-Of-This-Kingdom, Strong, Happy, Regular, Boring or Nothing? Nothing at all?

Instagram these days are filled with Sarcasm & Redefining Humor posts and I’m suddenly reminded of this one which has a giant pile of notes with a question popping-up to say, “Would you slap your parents if you could win five million dollars in exchange?” You get the drill now, don’t you? So, would you perform your activity if we were to pay you every time for it? On that note, it could become a legit profession and imagine you living the burden of its pride every passing microsecond- Is it cool enough or embarrassing or nothing again?

I don’t know if you’d be able to relate but most of us have dreamt to be where we are today or are “in-making”- Lawyers, Pilots, Engineers, Doctors, Writers, Sports-people, Drivers, Storytellers, Actors, and a zillion other professions which exist, popular, non-popular, famous, unheard of- all kinds of them. I don’t quite think we have it placed in our little notebook what you practice- What do you suggest how do we term it? Or you’re non-opinionated about it, again?

The other day, we tried telling 21-year-old Meera to not step out late at night in shorts- we thought there’s a pattern.
But then, 35 years old Jameela was just out last afternoon to buy grocery, that too draped fully in a Burkha- Good job, you broke the pattern. And how- Neither was 6 months old Shiny spared nor was 10 years old Aamir.

As much as we’d hate to believe it, this is growing more and more common in the households, churches, streets, villages, board rooms, vanity vans, slums, vegetable markets, fields- And we have no safe spaces to hide ourselves anymore.

I hope I have not angered you by asking too many questions and I’m not sure if it could agitate you further by what I’m going to say next, I’m sorry I’d have to say it anyway- I AM NOT AFRAID OF YOU.

I ask questions because maybe you never bothered to ask yourself these, enough number of times. And while pleading, counselling, fearing, screaming, punishing might/might not effectively clean your mind or soul, I hope listening does.

So, with your consent, whenever you’d want to talk, I am listening.

And if you are hesitant about how to start, here, let me break the ice for you- “I am a rapist and I need help.”