Gays and Societal Repression - My Take

After following the news that ‘Malaysia condemned Muslim gays’, which we all have got and breathed heavily in secrecy; even though it is for a second; and now when the topic is being sensationalized peppered with views from two different tangents as its support system to rationalize – I like to take a dig. (Well, it’s my gay-ic habitat to dig at this and opine.) 

The discussion open two threads – how historic values being distorted and how convulsed religious belief (esp. Muslim) lead to condemnation of gay liberation worldwide. 

Histories or no histories – of a nation / state or country have ever influenced society towards ‘gay tolerance’. If that would have been the case, then countries like India, Pakistan, China or United Kingdom would have never seen the rise of LGBT movement within themselves. None of these nations, till date, are full-fledged tolerant to LGBT commune. (No matter, how vehemently we feel proud about being ‘a gay’ we all are closeted at certain levels.) [Brickbats following my way…] Expecting the entire world to be tolerant is like believing to a ‘doomsday’ and sky to fall. 

Since I am not a privileged ‘globe-trotter’, hence, I would not like to take case studies of different country, irrespective of my knowledge about world histories and social system. Therefore, I use India and its varied social systems, which I have lived and experienced as the baseline for the talk. 

Indeed, we are old as ancient, like the white-flowing beard of Abraham; with rich heritage influencing our architecture to literature to social system. We are first to have exalted ‘pornology’ and named it ‘Kama Sutra’. A book that combines ‘philosophy’ and ‘science’ in a very spiritual way yet sexual all-through – a theory which has never been countered worldwide. When you look at the book closely, it gives way to some of the interesting theories in a sublimated way. 

First, ‘sex’ is most important part of our living because ‘a good sex can liberate mind, soul and body from the baser instinct to a spiritual orgasm’. (I wonder why most of the gays from PR snigger when others discusses about sex and only sex – doesn’t our glorified history or philosophy support people to think, talk, eat and sleep sex all through.) 

Second, ‘sexuality’ is practiced and got many forms – which are naturally acceptable. There is nothing wrong being a bisexual or zoo-philia or being dominative or kinky; our most exalted literature and murals on the walls of famous temples depicted them with acuteness and adorned. (Why do then, most of the gays from PR turn vindictive to bisexual profiles or domination; leave apart the zoo-philias – people will get heartache, if somebody confesses?) Interestingly, none of these have shown pedophiles or female infanticide, which are man-made and un-natural.

If observed, these paintings or murals are done on the walls of temples or Buddhist caves – which means ‘sexuality’ in any form leads to liberation. Thus, when your minds have done it, and the baser instincts are satisfied then you concentrate on spiritual liberation. A starved and seeking mind can never attain god-likes. Period!

  

I might be going wayward but not exactly. The reason to highlight the above point is largely to societies have always undergone changes, which fashioned our lifestyles and thoughts, time-to-time; irrespective of how glorified the histories of a nation were.  It is therefore the social system but, even that have seen changes in a most rapid form, since its evolution. The community of transgender and trans-sexual have played a formidable role in many of the historic periods of Indian governance but ignored later. We have tales of Timur but nobody knows about admiral Zheng from China. (Sic!) In present world, therefore ‘transgender’ are looked upon with disgust, fear and abhorrence; even among the so-called ‘gays’ who don’t accept them as their own but with reservations.  

So, a society always changes under the influence of a political reign. In this context, a similarity could be found between the thread and Malaysians. Now, a political system of a country do draw its influences from the religion that majority practices. In this case, the most controversial – Muslim beliefs is under the scanner.

Coming to Muslims and its fanaticism, ‘yes’, too many cooks have spoiled the broth. But, this is applicable to Christian countries also. In fact, Muslims tend to practice what Mohammed preaches but Christian follow what nobody have stated by stealthily putting them under Jesus’ gown asking the follower to ‘suck him up’. Surprisingly, one of the above comments try to equate Vedas and Koran and Bible (though I am not a right-wing fundamentalist) yet the comparison is absurd.

Vedas are all-comprehensive yet liberated i.e. the interpretations are individualist whereas Koran and Bible are to a large extent, self-governing; thus leading to repressive interpretations. All three have discourses on ‘ways of living’ yet Vedas or Upanishads have never ceremoniously dictated their ways instead stress on the fact, ‘liberation of mind and soul from the worldly ways’. Thus, those who follow it can always interpret the readings in more translucent and individualist order. This is also applicable to Buddhist order.

Comparatively, Mohammed or Jesus in their preaching, have been restrictive and stress on ‘few world functioning as the way to attain liberation’ (like, ‘condemnation to homosexual feelings’ (which is clearly dictated by Mohammed and Moses)). What Jesus and Mohammed have failed to realize is worldly order and society undergoes changes with time; instead they have acted upon more like ‘god’ who knows the secret of life, hell and heaven. Vedas, Upanishads and Buddha never treaded therein.

Now, the teachings or ways of Mohammed are so restrictive that invariably it leads to self repression; which is not a good way. A man or a woman, when follows self-repression tend to have urges towards what is denied. My experience with Muslim men shows that ‘…they practice homosexuality or bisexuality or zoosexuality with ease but never discusses or accept openly.’ Similarly, countries which followed the teachings of Mohammed to bring societal regularization have often witnessed large number of gays in closeted or practiced homosexuality but in denial. In fact, when Article 377 was not diluted we have practiced it and most of the PR-profiles have enjoyed it. In fact, those who were real-time gays or transgender have their own world with own governed rules and we played what we believed with an honesty.

After dilution of 377, what Indian society has witnessed is large number of men folk joining the brigade claiming to be ‘gays’ but act more an opportunists or ‘sex-escapade’. They tread into the gaydom, largely for cheaper and easier way to ‘f***’ or ‘get f***’ thus, causing confusion among the gay order itself and the society. We have lost the rules of game, we have lost the fun and turn into ‘sex slaves’ or ‘whores’ to be precise.

Why I am ranting so much? The reason – I believe, is because, a society must have certain regularization else too-much democratic way leads to nothingness. It is too early to be panicky or shocked with the news. We need to look at how Malaysia and the states, in discussion, take the ruling to the people – if it leads to a catastrophe then we might need a serious discussion. We must agree ‘majority of the world is a householder’ and gayism is an opportunity but inherent practice. [Rest in peace.]

Searching Paigah Tombs @Hyderabad

It was to keep the dead peacefully, after they are gone. The sunny surroundings warming the cold bodies in dark graves are a refreshing ‘find’ to otherwise, ruined historic Hyderabad. In fact, I’m bored looking at the city ruins – dilapidated and sandy; a painful eyesore.

And, after three years of haul; finally the discovery is enthusing in many ways. The rich stuccoed and intricate ‘jalis’ of Paigah Tombs, or as locally famous ‘Maqhbara Shums-Ul-Umra’ tucked in one of the dingy alleys is almost a discovery or invention. Created in 1787, the several generations of Paigah nobles were found to have their graves in this particularly gorgeous mausoleum where the sunrays from the perforated marble screens draw geometrical designs and floral patterns on the calm marble floors.

[Unfortunately, many of the Hyderabadis are unaware of its existence, even the Google Maps shows a more complicated route; which leads to a graveyard instead. The best way to make to Paigah Tombs is to hire an auto from Yakutpura Railway Station to Owaisi Hospital, Santosh Nagar. The tombs are located in the lane opposite to the hospital.]

Bye! Bye! Durga Puja...

It arrived and passed, like the past years. With all the thrills, joys and celebrations casketed in sweet lil’ boxes with silver foil and given away; life is back to regular activities. (Huh!)

And, my usual rambling started...

This is first, in three years, when I was left home alone after ‘Az’ has dumped me out. I tried to break free often but no avail. Sit back home, stared the walls, watched porn, and slept for hours. Next time, dear lord, please do not visit because occasions make me ‘sick’ and ‘lonely’.

Planning to re-work on my sagging blog posts; what do you feel?

Stranded and Strangled Life!

Another year…another festive season!

This is the third year, in a row, when I will be at home with myself. I’ve almost forgotten the sweet fragrance of embers in ‘pandals’; the mesmerizing thousand lamps and beautiful kohl-laden eyes of Durga.

One more year (this time)…and I will be at den; sulking and wounded. 

Miserable South India

If faith is well-ground and belief is personal then, why you need to pay Rs. 100-500 for a temple visit. I am too disappointed with Southern part of India, primarily on two grounds:

• First, the unkempt and almost ruined heritage which once housed many a great dynasties; forts in South India are into a pathetic state.
• Secondly, the privileged rows to pay a visit to the deity. No wonder, why the temples in South India procure unaccounted wealth. You are charged get a good glimpse of the god else a ‘free darshanam’ will need a strained and jostling effort yet the god is almost hidden.

 And, then who said India is not a biased land.

 

Cantankerous Cacophony

I’m your man, Mr. Mephistopheles if god makes any more children. And, I’ve decided to sell me to your harem to get poked with pitchforks by red men with horns and goat-legs than being with bevy of cantankerous cacophonies.

Now, if you’re through with the mumble-jumble; do spill out the beans before I die from unnerving boringasmic. Damn! O.K., with clear thought and throat I proclaim that ‘world could be a nice place to live with adults only if those infants yet to pubertize leave us graciously.’ C’mon you lingbie…else I blow off.

Dear Blog, you won’t understand the point because there’s ain’t a childroid blog to torment thee. What rod? Childroid – the ones who can cause hemroidal pain on your background. Huh! Oh, you don’t believe… (huh, you!)

Fine, hear this: while returning from the most unorgansmic tour from one of the private parts of Southern India which offer nothing apart of teariness; I battled my way to occupy one of the window seats in a snail-like train. Thankfully, the train left the station timely and run amidst the green-filled landscape bringing relief to my sloshed and nicotine-sanitized mind. Droopy eyelids gets heavy as the mild track song sings me a lullaby. The busy compartment filled with strange and unknown Travelers Bum of all shapes, sizes and gender engaged in their selves while I got sleepy and fell sloshed.

An hour might have passed…the train cascaded over the sunshine track through numerous stations while I was sloshed when a screech woke me unwarranted. J-E-S-U-S! No Mephistopheles. Swarmed with gang of childroids – on floor, on the seat, on the passage, blocking the exit door; the compartment looks like a dungeon. (Moron, stop behaving a gay.) HELL-O!

I’d have been less hyper, if the train wouldn’t have delayed for more than two hours to reach the destination that otherwise take five hours. This must be ‘a divine injustice’ coz’ as the train start delaying the horror multiplies. The rest of the journey was a tortuous tour through hell. Screeching children, jumping children, crying children, annoying children – bevy of childroids popping up from everywhere and add to nuisance.

Twitched eyebrows, lips, eye-bags; I try to twitch every possible muscle to express the annoyance but nothing crease out the woe. My 8-hour long nicotine free mind now gets perky and looks for a gunny bag to stuff the bevy of childroids and beat them merciless. I wonder why people are not born adult. Is childhood necessary? F***

Random and Randomness: When Mind Stop Thinking

It’s time for me to unwind myself and take to sojourn journeys to rehabilitate. Life is otherwise a booing bitch till a travel plan is doled out. This reminds me that “the last time I did the roads is two-year back…” So, before I again set forth and my blog turns into a mini-travel book let’s look at the things around. And, a horror struck.

The world around is burning (where do I step). London is burning, States is in debt. Asia is terrorized and Japan catastrophe. Skeletons tumbling out of the parliamentary closets, the common man shed his/ her immune self, jilted lovers find comfort by axing their ex’s, faggots settling for marriages. Where do I step?

Strangely but deeply, I began to believe that the 21-12-2012 is real. A new order is set to motion and before it happens let me look at the seas, mountains and plains before they all washed off or exploded. 

Birth hood is inevitable and I might born in a new way.

Indian Railways

Dear Minister…

This is an open letter, could be high on emotion, but deserving an honest version that any of the review statement churned from bureaucratic masturbation after responsibly dissecting the causes of train accidents in India. My version is neither populist nor propagandist rather heartfelt.

To the best of my memory, the last time I ever had lost any of my relatives in a train accident dated back to 1940s. Those were the time; when travelling by train was nothing short than a ritualistic practice with passengers tucked into a holdel (an un-fashioned military bedroll) and carry a personal porter too. Train journeys were considered as stress-filled and often sinfulicious. Interestingly, the concept of coal engines and waiting rooms add glamour to the journey. During one of those journeys, my distant maternal grandmother met with an accident and left abode. I was unborn then.

Generations of childhood, in our family, have been told the story and the harrowing experiences about how the family members’ strugglefest to trace her body lying under a heap of corpse. She was in her teens and newly married – petite, beautiful and young. Her body when handed over was charred, disfigured and partially decomposed. She was gone but her ordeal remains a talk-point during many of the train accidents we have witnessed, over the years.

Since then, my family has made many a train journeys. Some did it frequently while other occasionally but, we did enjoyably. We travelled alone, we travelled with families; we travelled during the happy summer vacations and (yes) when critical emergencies struck household. In fact, many from my generations and generation preceding us, has spend most of their memorable moments with Indian railways and still cherish them lifelong.

Indian railway, during my generation and ones preceding, is the lifeline to us. The mud-cup filled with sweetened milky tea was the favorite drink with unmatchable taste. The stretched acres of land with rows of palm trees, or the large banyan groves where men resting in a sunny day, or the changing land from red-to-brown-to-black; seen through the window of a moving train, brought us close to a realization about the vastness of our country called ‘India’. Indian railway contributed to our learning when we were child.

For me, the Indian railways always had a special connection thus it pains to witness it Erod. The proponents might misguide it as ‘advances’ but amidst of yearly up-gradations the system falters to meet the basic and fundamental requiries.

Dear Ministers, there are many a thing that the commission report never register except of number of casualties or the tariff rates or the new introductions in rail route; is how a commoner like me, feel when travelling around. If you pay notice:

1. I don’t feel secure about the iron tracks anymore. They no more shine like they do when I was a child. In fact, the last time when I walked by the train tracks I noticed scratches and the screws are being rusted. Can you polish the tracks once again and spare few crones to buy new ones?
2. My hometown is in Delhi while my relatives stay eastwards. Thankfully, we got ample of trains – so many that often we end up not reaching the destination on-time due to traffic congestion. On the other hand, when I settled in southern part of the country, due to professional compulsion, I almost lost being in touch with them. We got only few trains to connect and all of them remain over-booked (seasonal or unseasonal) so my mother can’t visit me often. She is sixty and diagnosed of having acrophobia. Can you make more frequent trains connect the north to south than north to east ways?
3. Ah! Interestingly, when India became an IT-hub and almost all my relatives or friends start doing something or other with computers – we become the most technologically developed country. Yet, none of us have a full-fledged and flawless online railway system to build – neither the nation nor department. What a shame?
4. My paternal house is located in distant suburbs of Kolkata where there was an unmanned check post. When I was child, we used to cross the tracks to reach the platform. It was 20-years back but 20-years later, during one of my Konkan vacation I have crossed multiple unmanned check posts and faulting signal systems to reach destinations. Life returns to a circle but with where we have the ‘proclaimed advancements’.
5. Hospitality! A distant word that loses its definition either airways or railways. I’m sure we don’t mind spending few extra bucks while reserving a berth; provided the washrooms are cleans, water is safe and free-flowing, environment is hygienic, and food is hot and tasty.
6. While writing the above comment, I stumbled upon the word ‘reservation’, which we need but rarely gets. Three-month advances, multiple changing of dates still ‘no tickets’ unless a tout is religiously followed.
7. The arrival and departure of trains coined the term Indian Standard Time (or IST), which invariably means we don’t mind being late or never be on time. An efficient traffic system and all of the above could definitely change the meaning, if acted with diligence.

The moral: While the Indian Railways seems to have perfected rescue and relief operations following accidents, it has not met with much success when it comes to accident prevention. The safety drive needs a review to identify the grey areas — be it signalling, track replacement, or the status of the rolling stock. It is time the political class stopped viewing the Railways as a plum platform for patronage disbursal and saw the Railways for what they are: a vital, but failing component of India's transport infrastructure that has the capacity to make or break the nation's competitiveness.

 

 

 

Ministries must work now lest it could get too late.

Burden of Love

When debt began to burden your soul, it’s time to payoff. Love follows the same path. I no more feel, it’s worthy to write about ‘love’ so passionately because the passion dried. And, now I realize: “people have won their ways to be with me till they feel there’s nothing left”. So, time to put him in a trash-bin. Adieu love!

A Woman in the Chapel

Sitting before the altar with her fingers clasped to each other resting on her chest; her head bowed with a few streaks of loosened hair veil her eyes. She shed a single drop of tear. She spoke the most silent prayer.

A demure, frail woman as she wants the world to picture her but images could be deceptive. She wasn’t meant to be a skylark or a doe; nestling in a broken elevator and look at the weather change. With her ambitious wings spread, she can eclipse the sunny sky with thickened darkness where calm-bloodied moon shines.

The immortal Maria! It all changed when the ambitious-bee dunks her so deep that she didn’t mind walking down the memory lane, as one of the most notorious femme-fatale of crime of passion. Two of her victims – a naval officer and a media-man battled for her till one of them lie down in his grave while other languish in the jail.

Lovelorn Maria as she reclaims. None of them loved her soul but the body; and this enraged both to struggle till one of them pulls the dragger and the body fall. Poor girl, Maria! Grievously, she witnessed him bludgeoning and hackneying the body of second consort to pieces before they were exhumed in a deserted place. Maria stood by the survivor, like the Lady Macbeth, compassionately. A passionate crime or crime of passion that she witnessed, designed, and executed with ambitious grandeur; ironically exonerated by one compassionate judgment.

For three years…she watched the weather change in the sky from her pigeonhole…now, the sky remains prostrated but her fangs clipped. (Betrayed Maria!)