Friday, 13 December 2013

Tell YOUR God, I Forgive Him

2009 is better known as the year Swine Flu first made an appearance on the global scene, or the year when the world lost its first ever Pop Icon - Micheal Jackson or the year an African-American man took office in what was previously the most conservative quasi-democracy. However in the capital of the world's biggest democracy, a small group of young men and women were rejoicing a Delhi High Court ruling.

The Delhi High Court ruled, that a 19th-century provision in the nation's penal code, that effectively banned gay sex, shouldn't apply to consensual acts. In effect it gave the green light to gay couples in capital by decriminalizing gay sex. LGBT supporters (myself included) the world over rejoiced as the movement for Gay Rights saw its first high in India.

On Wednesday all this changed. India - the world's biggest democracy - suffered a 150 year old setback. The supreme court of India, the apex judicial body, overturned the ruling, and as I sat here a heterosexual person whose life isn't all that affected directly I thought, does it even really matter?  What can I, one little person, the proverbial David against this big bad Goliath, do? Take to the streets and protest? Scream bloody murder to everyone I meet till I reach out to everyone I know? Write a blogpost? How would any of this REALLY make any difference?

I've already written a post before this expressing my stand on the matter. So should I dedicate a few tweets, maybe a Facebook status to the matter and forget about it? No. The day I stop speaking up against injustice is the day I condone it. The day I stop caring about the love, life and dignity of others is the day I stop being a human.

I read somewhere: 'Homosexuality is found in over 450 species. Homophobia is found in only one' whether I chose to lie with a woman or a man, let it be MY choice. Whether I chose to make my body the citadel of life or not, let it be MY choice. Let me show you the blueprint from which we were made, you and me both, so that you can realize we are all the same.

They say heavens gates were built to keep me out
That God's word
forces secrets into my back pockets
Leviticus 18:22 and men I cannot call my lovers
For it would mean that I am unholy

Demonized
Heretic
That I'll end up in October crucifixion 
A rusted fence of sin
They say that God can soundproof his ears to fags
that he never meant to create 
They say that God has abandoned me

Tell your God that I mention him in my prayers
tell him I miss him 
that I know its not his fault
It's just that he hung out with people like you for far too long
Tell him I carry the faith of a Gospel choir inside my chest
Tell him I haven't turned my prayers into chalk lines
Tell YOUR God, that he is MY God too
That I want him back

Tell him to show you my Blueprint
How he created us both
Tell him to remind you
That I am beautiful too
Tell him I've read the bible
I know of love
It is diverse, thousands of flowers
I've seen it in the shape of an orchid blooming inside my chest
Until the day it way ready to come out

Tell your God he did something Right
I grew up to be a lover
Tell your God
I've seen him officiate more weddings than funerals
Tell him we are all imperfect
And thank him for it
Tell him he's a great father
Even in absence
That his children feel safe in his arms
That the Sun rises for him
Her
You
Us
That I can feel his warmth on my back
Tell him
I don't believe the Rumors

Tell YOUR God
I Forgive Him.

Credit: BNV 2013 - Denver

Source: Google Images


Friday, 27 September 2013

10 Reasons I Can't Get Married

If you are an Indian girl of marriageable age (anywhere between 18 to 30 - because of course after 30 only an ogre would marry you) you will understand the purpose of this post. I love my family (at most times) and despite their most decidedly all-up-in-my-business-attitude I've learned to overlook the annoying and embrace the awesome (because in their own way, each one of them is, without fail, awesome!).

Having said that, this post is my polite way of conveying to all of them, that I am currently NOT ready to give up all earthly desires and live a life of constant misery and oppression just yet. And don't worry, if don't heed the polite, remember I have a flair for the dramatic, I'm the family drama queen and black sheep all rolled into one!

But that doesn't take away from the parents, they are after all a few steps ahead. The result of this is, that in my family 'no' is Parent Patented. What do I mean by that? Follow the conversation below:

Me: Mum can I go out for a party at my friends.
Mum: No
Me: Mum can I go out for dinner with some friends from DPS?
Mum: No
Me: Mum can I...
Mum: No
Mum: are you ready to meet boys (because let's be real at 24 there aren't too many men around) to get married?
Me: ummm.. ahh.. the thing is... no.
Mum: Alright then be ready to go to the Gurudwara tomorrow to see a prospective groom.
Me: O_O (all bug eyed)

Having now ranted sufficiently enough. Welcome to my list of "10 Reasons I Can't Get Married". Please feel free to use any or all of these reasons on your own parents should they suit the circumstances, or if you need an excuse to get your parents to kick you out.

Number 1: I'm 24. If you don't get what I mean, read that again, I'M ONLY TWENTY-BLOODY-FOUR!!!! I am not nearly standing on the doors of Spinsterhood yet. Just because I love dogs, that does not mean, I'm going to end up happy and alone with 50 dogs, simply because I don't think I'm quite as lucky. So give me a couple of years, or a couple of couple of years, hell just give me a decade, and I promise I'll either find someone or get you to find me someone.

Number 2: I know you think the only thing I have going for me in life is that I'm young enough for someone to want to marry me, because of course my run of the mill mouth and scintillating good looks may have me on your hands from AD to ADD, but I have news for you, the gazillion of Rupees that you have been saving since the doctor said "Congrats it's ANOTHER Girl!" I'm sure will be enough to bribe some poor lost soul into spending his life with me. So there problem solved! People are bribable at all ages, and I promise next to the money nobody will care if I'm 24 or 42.

Number 3: I'm not mature enough to club the inner bitch from opening her mouth and saying something grossly inappropriate, just yet. So basically I will be a mother-in-laws worst nightmare, and I really won't wish someone with verbal diarrhea (Copyright PVN) on any poor mum-in-law.

Number 4: I'm still young enough to at the least kid myself into believing I can find a husband myself (although buying a new Toothbrush gives me nightmares-have you seen the variety out there??). The problem is my belief is like a little kids belief in Santa Claus, if you take it away too soon, you risk scarring me for life. So let's make a pact let me keep my belief and I'll forget all about that time in 4th grade, when you  made me spend an entire night in school for Christmas! (I don't care that it was a sleepover or that I begged you. I'm a communications person, and I'll spin it so hard, people will think you are worse than those parents from Criminal Minds who burnt their kids alive!)

Number 5: I am one of those very very VERY few Indian girls who doesn't know a spoon from a ladle and my culinary skills do not extend beyond making Maggi and Chai. Like if the fate of the world depended on my cooking skills, we'd all be being eaten by pigs right now. So if you can find a man who can live on Maggi and Chai, bring it on. Till death do us part indeed!

Number 6: I remember when the last Harry Potter Book came out, I spend 3 days and nights reading. I didn't sleep (yup me and my trusty flashlight came so close), I did not eat (which if you know me if a really big deal, I'm the kind of person whose eulogy will say "She spoke really fast and she loved Food"), I did not pay any attention in class, and I did absolutely nothing else. Nada. Zilch. Zip. Find me a man who is ok with me turning into a Zombie every time I open a new book and I'll consider it.

Number 7: I'm not prepared to accept defeat, no matter how much anybody denies it. Howard Roark is NOT just a fictional character, and I will not rest until I find him! Then I'll marry him, and we can be miserable together. P.S. if you don't know who Howard Roark is, I have six words for you, "I don't believe you! The Fountainhead".

Number 8: What if I marry Mr. Moderately-Right only for Mr. Right to show up? If you aren't ok with me having an extra marital affair you really should let me wait for him. For your sake and mine.

Number 9: This is not a game of bowling. Just because I'm the last pin left, doesn't mean its your moral duty to knock me down. Just because I'm the youngest and it's been a while that you had a party, doesn't -under any circumstances- mean that you have to sacrifice me at the alter of matrimony to do it. Hell let's throw a "The New Season of Glee is Starting" Bash! We can sing, we can dance, we can wear weird itchy outfits, I swear you wont even realize its not a wedding!

Number 10: Jokes apart, I want to very politely inform you that I am NOT ready to get married right now. I love you, and if you bring this up again, I'll sweety remind you that the average marriageable age in Japan is 35, and I will insist on finding myself a Japanese man. I love you and all, but who I choose to marry is my business. I promise to take your words of wisdom on board but at the end of the day, I am more than your child. I'm a thinking, opinionated, high functioning (ok moderately functioning) human being. The decision of who to spend my life with or without will be mine, I promise to make sure you are happy with the decision, but the decision, nonetheless, will be MINE.

Photo Credits: Alma Wedding Photography

Friday, 19 July 2013

Im-Perfect Love

I just saw A Walk to Remember tonight for the first time and my first thought was, What a stupid movie! The very fact the leading lady dies in the end is a put off for me. See I love fiction. I love movies and books and poetry and dramas of the fictitious variety. I believe that life is full of too much sorrow and hatred, violence and blood shed to begin with. So in my mind, fiction keeps hope alive. It makes a person want to persevere to be better. To be better daughters or sons, better husbands or wives, better workers or employers, but most importantly better people. When I read a book or see a movie, the eternal optimist in me comes out. I want the hero and the heroine to end up together. I want the world to be saved. I want the strength and dignity of the people in these books or movies preserved. In my mind it is bigger than the story. It is sacrosanct.

And that is why I hate the movie. But beyond that, as I sitting thinking about how much I DONT like the movie, a thought occurs. The movie talks about the concept of the elusive perfect love. A love so deep and abiding it touches the soul. A love so pure and selfless it makes the onlooker envious. It talks of a love that is, "always patient and kind. It is never jealous. Love is never boastful or conceited. It is never rude or selfish. It does not take offense and is not resentful. Love takes no pleasure in other people’s sins, but delights in the truth. It is always ready to excuse, to trust, to hope, and to endure whatever comes." In other words, a love that is perfect.

What I realize is that it is easy for love to be all those things, for it to be perfect, when all it has is a summer. When eventually the heroine is going to die of Leukemia and the hero is all to willing to put his life, his dreams and ambitions on hold, to accommodate her and her dying wishes. For the heroine to inspire the hero to be a better person.

In reality however, I think love is imperfect. There are always going to be times when it all the things the author mentions, but there also going to be times when love is impatient or unkind. When it is boastful or conceited, rude or selfish. All to often it takes offence, and many a times it is resentful. Love is in contradiction. It is contradictory in its outlook and manifestation from moment to moment, and it a collection of all the perfect and imperfect moments that create the epic saga called life.

So how is it that we measure if for the most part love was patient or impatient, kind or unkind? Is there a benchmark that declares, say for instance, that if for 50% of the time love was patient and kind, not boastful or conceited, rude or selfish, then it is perfect? I think for the most part love is a collection of perfect and imperfect moments, and by that definition, for the most part love is imperfect. It will either  make you bend or make you want to make someone else bend. It will either be jealous or make jealous, it be rude or suffer at the hands of rudeness. It will make you want to stand up, or make the other person stand down. For the most part love is in the monotony. It is in fighting over who makes morning coffee (or tea) or who forgot to switch off the lights. It doesn't reside in the short term plenty, but in long term inadequacies.

So given a choice between a short term perfect love or a long term imperfect one, I guess I'm ok being imperfect. I'm ok being rude or jealous sometimes and patient or kind other times. I'm ok as long as in the end through all the highs and lows, through all the imperfections, the love has survived and made me a better person than I was yesterday. That to me is Imperfect Love, and it is better than Perfect any day.
Photo Credits: Alma Wedding Photography