Growing in All Different Directions

So we grow. And we develop. Not just physically but also emotionally. And the emotional growth is so much more harder to accept. You become confused… “Which way am I growing… what am I growing into? Who am I becoming? Which is the real me??” There are so many shades of you, it’s hard to know which is the real you… When are you just pretending to fit a particular situation and when are you actually being yourself.

I guess, no one can answer that correctly. There might not be a correct answer. Because maybe… all those shades of you are the all of you growing in different direction instead of following a straight path. What you feel with different people, how you behave in the same situation but in different places or with different people, it’s all you. It’s all the real you. Even when you are pretending, it’s you.

I guess it’s OK to doubt, to be confused, to ask questions about yourself, to feel like nobody understand, to feel alone. But you are not. You really aren’t!! it’s ok not to get the answers right away. There aren’t always answers for everything.


A Hijra in the Family

it’s a hard country to live in where all everyone ever care about is “log kya kahenge” (what will people say). why are we so judgmental?! sometimes we don’t even realize how powerful our judgments can be. That we can become murderers without even using a weapon to kill a soul.


I was just another boy wanting to be a girl. Now, I’ll be just another boy. I have not complained, nor do I complain now. I only tell a tale, for that’s all I’ve got. A tale, some could relate to.

This is for everyone who sees the queer movement as a superficial rich kid’s tantrum. I hail from a deeply religious middle class family with strong roots in a place known for its gender based crimes.

One of these days if I stopped existing the world wouldn’t know but I don’t want to be just another lgbt person. I don’t want to be just another statistic, just another note. I want to see the light, I want to be able to  hope but I don’t know where to look for hope, where to find it.

There was someone who told me, that maybe I should get my career sorted…

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It’s not about you…

been reading about leelah for a few days now. and every time I cry. her mom is blind! even after her death she ignores leelah! that’s cruel and selfish.

Because I'm Fabulous

I remember being pregnant with my children, feeling as their gentle flutters progressed into full belly flops on my bladder and painful karate kicks against the backs of my ribs. Back then I had no clue what my children would be like; they were more like ideas than real people. I’d sit in my rocking chair with my hands clasped gently over my stomach and wonder who they’d be. Dreaming of children who loved singing as much as me; envisioning singing rounds, our voices weaving together in harmony.

Then they were born. Short, chubby, bald people who looked a lot more like Winston Churchill than either their Dad or myself. People that screamed randomly, pooped on themselves, and considered “gah” to be an entire conversation. I still had no idea what they were like except loud, messy, and highly uncoordinated. They slowly evolved into their own people. Emma was colicky and had a desperate need to be…

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Another truth this new year. 😉
When I write I am always the victim. The truth is I always try to write stuff from the prospective of the other side of the story. And I was always so engrossed in looking the other way and trying to find why someone would do wrong, how someone who does wrong is also suffering, I forgot to look at the side where people actually get hurt. Mostly my stories are about some emotions I am feeling and writing kind of exaggerates it. I build up stories and maybe in some way try to prove to myself that I am not in the wrong or that, if I did something horrible it’s because I had a valid reason behind it. Reasons which no one could see and hence no one would ever understand. I always tried to find ways to play the victim. But the thing is I did hurt people. No matter what my intentions were, what my back story was. I am hurting people. I have hurt people. Because I was too stubborn to see the things as they were. Maybe because I thought I could never do anything wrong. I tried too much to romanticize every situation. And I got fed up of myself.
In reality I am a cruel person. Maybe it’s the only way I can hide my hyper-sensitivity. Maybe I am just not a good person. I don’t know. There is no excuse for being this way. I just don’t like appearing weak and needy. I hate asking for help, for favors, for anything which would put me in someone else’s debt. I hate owning the imaginary ‘IOUs’. I think everyone should just shut up about themselves and just bear their share of emotional burden and everything they think is wrong with the world.
The way I do it is through writing. I forget that not everyone is like me (And thank God for that!). Everyone vents out in different ways. They do not have the same outlet to vent frustration as me. And they don’t need to. My way is no ‘righter’ than their’s.
When I look back and go through stuffs that I wrote, I see that I am always the one being wronged. The fact is, I can, and no one can stop me from writing the way I want to, from being who I am, for feeling the way I feel. It might not be conventional, but it’s me. And I don’t care if they judge me. And in the same way, they too are right to use any means they find comfortable to share emotions. If they want to whine their heart out or if they want to keep it quiet and gulp down that shot. I am no one to judge them. I don’t know how to get over this judgmental attitude. Is just ignoring them the right way??!
I guess I am kind of obsessed with the right thing the right way and the right everything!
I forget that there is no one right way of doing stuff. I realize that I am not here to find the right or the wrong ways. It’s neither my responsibility nor my place to play moral police. I should learn to just live my own life the way I see fit and the way I enjoy it the most. What matters is the right way for me. I only want to be proud of myself, what I do and look myself in the mirror and love myself and sleep with peace at night.


I usually never make new year resolutions. I know I am too fickle to follow anything for a whole year! Being fickle and having a short attention span is one thing I am consistent with. The only thing maybe.
So this new year of 2015, I thought, why not instead of making a “what I will do“resolutions which mostly probably hardly lasts a week at most, I’d start with a little bit of truth. 
I love Taylor Swift songs! Almost all of them. I don’t know about the person but her songs and her lyrics are awesome. She is talented and I constantly listen to her new 1989 album. In fact that’s the only album playing in my playlist since I downloaded it!
Yup that was it! My guilty pleasure! Lol! Even though I act all cool and tough and indifferent in the real world, inside I am a super romantic, romance loving, pink loving, girly girl. And I love heartbreaks! Stories, songs, quotes, everything love related. I relate with them or I imagine identifying with them probably!