The Freezing Flames

I Was Seventeen

2009-12-11T12:58:00.003+05:30

And I used to wallow in the woes of legal childhood - until today.

Is it strange that I do not want to grow up? When I told this to Mom, she told me to look at all the things I will be eligible for now: smoking, drinking, driving (not in that order on the same night, though). I reminded her that in most places one still has to be 21 or older to be served alcohol.

In any case, I do not want to smoke or binge drink nor do I think she would let me. Also, I shouldn't be allowed on the roads behind a steering wheel until I take a course in hand-eye-brain coordination. Yes, I am pretty accident prone.

She said that I can vote. Well, that is one good thing.

I still feel seventeen. Maybe I will be seventeen till I die.

I am happy. There is a little party tonight and I am trying to think of ways to make it more fun. If I had a trampoline we would have jumped for hours. And if the Cram City had a laser tag arena we would have gone and played that too.

You can bring the kid to adulthood but you can never bring the adulthood into this kid.

Not A Hero

2009-12-08T18:38:00.007+05:30

_____

I wrote this post this morning. Publishing it now.
_____

I am officially so sick and tired of this situation that I just can't bring myself to reiterate what I have said at three different internet locations. Tomorrow, I may or may not post in detail about what went down. So, let the following suffice for now.

Case in question - the following tweet:

Which prompted this (and more tweets from me that set the wheels in motion for the drama that ensued):

Greg Grunberg is an actor who plays Matt Parkman on one of my favorite TV shows, Heroes. He also does charity work towards finding a cure for epilepsy - which his son suffers from. I used to like him and think that he was a real life "hero". Not anymore.

Chaz Bono is the son of singers Cher and Sonny. Born Chastity Bono, he recently publicly came out as trans and is currently undergoing transition from female to male. He is an LGBT rights advocate, writer, actor and musician.

Now, go and read this:

"'Heroes' Star Greg Grunberg Tweets Transphobia" | The Bilerico Project

And this:

"Greg Grunberg is a douche – or doesn’t know better" | queersome

If you have time, also read my comments on both blog posts.

Then come back here and tell me about what you think.

I'm off now to do something about the headache this has caused.

---

UPDATE:

December 9, 2009
6.59 AM (IST)

"Greg Grunberg Responds...and So Do I" | by Rebecca Juro at The Bilerico Project

- An open letter by Rebecca Juro (author of The Bilerico Project article linked to earlier in this post) in response to an email sent to her by Greg Grunberg.

---

UPDATE:

December 11, 2009
8.32 AM (IST)

Putting the matter to rest:

The Greg Grunberg Story: An Update | The Bilerico Project

GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) was called in and they took action which prompted Grunberg to apologize again, this time with feeling.

I do not think he is a bad person at heart, he just didn't know better. Let us hope he got the message and now knows better than how he acted before.

Big thanks to everyone who came together and helped in getting this done! Goes on to show the importance of solidarity. Let us remember that always.

ShutterBug: "One-third Passion and Two-thirds Pride"

2009-12-07T13:20:00.002+05:30

Photo title inspired by this song by Tegan and Sara.

"Got a straw inside of me
And it's filled just fine
Got a straw inside of me
With the strongest wine
Well I'm one-third passion
But I'm two-thirds pride

[...]

I got a burning passion in my throat
I got a burning passion inside me"

~~~~~

Lately, I have been taking a lot of pictures of myself. Sometimes, I upload them to my flickr photostream. I clicked this photo through my phone camera yesterday, edited it using Nokia Image Editor and uploaded it last night. On my photostream, there are a couple of photos similar to the original of this one. Take a look if you want and tell me what you think.

~~~~~

Rise and Shine / A Rather Amateurish 'Audiophile' Post

2009-12-04T10:49:00.009+05:30

I actually slept last night, for a change. Fell asleep around 1 AM, I think, and woke up at 4. Not too bad, considering I had a cup of strong coffee at 8 AM, so I'm likely to stay up for the while. I'm trying to shed my vampire skin - don't want to sleep during the day anymore.

From 4 AM till now I have been on teh internetz going through my twitter, feed reader, email etc. and listening to new music. I know, I know - gotta shed my webaholic skin too. Anyhow, I checked out an artist recommended on genderfork.com and it was love at first sight - or sound - doesn't matter which. I heard hir for the first time today and I was sitting there, starry eyed, lost somewhere far away...

Wow, that rhymes!

The artist is Chris Pureka and this is the video that made me fall for hir. This feeling is kinda new to me. It usually takes me a while to warm up to any artist but this was... well, let's just say it made me consider that something like "love at first sight" might actually exist, even though mine wasn't really a "love at first sight" case.

I am in a different mood today, ain't I? Is it the coffee or something else? I don't even write like this usually, do I? o_O

Amanda Palmer

Tegan and Sara

Anyway, then there is AFP a.k.a. Amanda (Fucking) Palmer of The Dresden Dolls fame who shot her own absolutely crazy "karaoke verité" video of Tegan and Sara's song "Hell" in New York City. Check out AFP's crazy version here. I feel sorry for poor kids like myself who have nothing but a Nokia cellphone to get online because this video is effing NOT AVAILABLE ON YOUTUBE MOBILE which means I cannot watch it. Gawd, sometimes I hate not having my own laptop here. To cheer myself up, I went and watched some other Dresden Dolls videos instead, including "Coin-Operated Boy", which I love, and this particular brilliant video of "The Kill" shot by a group of Brazillian fans.

And can I just say that I love mobile internet radio which I discovered yesterday? I deeply regret that I didn't discover it sooner.

Enough babbling. Now, for that gawddamn physics project...

Wishing ya'll a good day ahead!

P.S. This post probably has a video link too many. Bear with me, please, while I try to figure out whether I got out on the wrong side of the bed today - or on the right side.

Lost In Translation

2009-12-01T23:59:00.001+05:30

When one is sad or angry, negatives seem to magnify and overshadow the positives. I had no idea what was happening until that phone chat inadvertently turned into a heartbreaking conversation - three hours and a lot of tears.

Begin long rambling rant:

Apparently two years are enough to make me forget how bad things used to get at home sometimes when you both got mad at each other over the littlest of things.

We kids used to take refuge in each other. Lock my bedroom door, turn up the music and shut out the rest of the world. We made small talk, discuss music. We would then jump on the bed, sing loudly and try to have fun generally. Try to escape.

Right now, she is alone and I'm not there for her.

Generation gap. Lack of communication. Frustration running high.

Adults tend to put a teen's anger down to hormones. They tend to overlook the actual cause of anger because, "Oh! It's just that age." But age can't be the cause of anger.

You fight, she gets irritable. You tell her off, she retaliates. You put it down to teenage angst. The cause of anger doesn't register. All that registers in your mind is that she yelled at you because she doesn't understand. But she does.

You can't take away her only means of escape. You should understand that only because I grew so addicted to it doesn't mean that she too will. She isn't like me. She doesn't have 'issues' that I did.

She doesn't watch the telly. She's shy and doesn't hang out with friends. She isn't even on any social networking site! She does like reading and learning new things like I did when I was little. You bought me printed books for that. Times change, she has virtual books.

She has tried to talk about things that she learns - science, history and culture - if only you cared enough to notice. You look at her sitting there and all you can see is a distant image of me - the one who became an addict. She is a dedicated student. She studies way more than I ever did. But when you see her sitting at the computer desk, why do you momentarily forget how drastically her grades have improved lately? Why is your only thought that she is being spoilt? Is it because of what I did? Why must you compare her with those old images of me that you have in your minds?

At least she can talk to you about it all. What used to be my answer when you asked what I did all day on the internet? I would mumble something and try to change the topic.

What could I have answered? -- I am looking for affirmation that I am indeed normal and not a freak. I am reading up on all these famous people who are gay. I am trying to relate to the experiences of other people who are like me, for there are so many out there! I am reading about labels and categories and trying to figure out where I fit in, if at all. I feel like my being transcends societal boundaries. I am talking to all these people and I feel happy. I am closer to fine. But today I read about the persecution that queers are subject to by the society. I am worried, Dad. I am afraid, Mom. -- Could I have told you all this then and expected you to understand? Not then. No, I couldn't. I was simply too terrified.

I can't put my arguments before you and expect for them to be taken at face value. I have so many things going against me. My words are likely to have negative impact because of my history.

When you fight now, she can't even retreat into a corner like we used to. She has bad days because of it, too, you know. She often breaks down.

She told me about little things that hurt. Like when you fail to appreciate her accomplishments. Instead, in your frustrated state of mind, you unintentionally make a remark that is hurtful.

I know it's not anyone's fault. You barely get enough time to breathe. On top of that all of this tension and trouble. I understand. I only wish I could do something about it.

Granted, the current situation at our home isn't even twenty percent as bad as what we hear about happening elsewhere but it feels just as painful. Maybe it has something to do with the fact that both of us have led very protected lives. You told us that since you didn't have such a good childhood, you want us to have the best that you can give. And you do give us your very best. You do.

Maybe because the two of us have never known what 'bad' really constitutes, occassional hardship affect us so much. We are unable to withstand pressure and rough patches.

Andy advised me not to get angry when I talk to you - for I must - about your situation... but right now I'm simply too sad to be angry.

I can't think properly. I can't even express myself coherently right now. I am afraid that I am giving my readers a very, very wrong idea of the situation. Note that I am addressing only the least pressing problem on my blog because not everything can be discussed here.

It's not the fricking internet connection at home that I'm worried about. No. It's my sister and the situation between my parents.

I want to help her and them. I want not to talk but to communicate with my parents. We can work out a solution. But they probably don't think we, especially she, are mature enough. If only they saw that beneath her childish exterior, their 13 year old daughter is just as mature as I am, if not more.

I wish they understood.

I don't know what I am supposed to do.

Less than ten days left of being seventeen... but I likely will still be strung out on confusion long after.

Pissed off

2009-11-30T08:24:00.001+05:30

Fuck you, world.

Shake It, Like A Ladder To The Sun

2009-11-01T23:05:00.004+05:30

A few days ago on the train back from New Delhi when I was bored and sleepy, I tweeted the following:

Firebolt needs a girlfriend. Send in your applications through twitter or email.

Did I think twice before clicking 'Update'? Nope! What I did after, though, was yawn and stretch, then slump and doze off for over an hour.

The next day I found a handful of twitter replies regarding the shout out waiting for me. I sat down to answer them. Unfortunately, my asstastic talents include a natural cluelessness about flirting. I don't know how to flirt. Period. Now I think my silly answers have probably ruined what little 'chance' I had with them. LOL!

Anyhow, I received an email from a friend asking for an application form. I hadn't thought of making an official form before. It seemed a fun idea. So I made one! I'm putting it up here. You can fill it out if you like. *wink wink* *snicker*

------

Name:
Age:
Gender Identity:
Sexual Orientation:
Location:

------

Describe yourself:

Interests:

Dislikes:

------

Three things you like about me:
1.
2.
3.

Three reasons you and I should hook up:
1.
2.
3.

------

1. Are you a cat person or a dog person?

2. Are you into queer music?

3. Have you ever barfed on someone else's shoes?

4. Have you ever spontaneously burst into a song/dance in a public place?

5. Do you know how to drive?

6. Are you taking this application seriously?

7. Do you believe that I am being serious?

8. What is the craziest thing you have ever done?

9. Are you vegetarian?

10. Do you believe that one day machines are going to take over the world?

11. What is your wildest fantasy?

12. Are you crazy?

13. If no, then what made you fill out this application form?

------

:D

Age no bar! Drunk typing is always funnier! Wear a tinfoil hat and click a picture! Turn this into a meme if you want!

When you have filled out the form, send it to flamezville at gmail dot com or put it up in the comments section. Have fun!

Cheers! ^_^

All Nightmare Long

2009-09-30T23:59:00.004+05:30

-------
I wrote this post last night itself but ran out of balance on my cellphone and couldn't publish it then. Here it is now.
-------

29 September, 2009.

As I type this, I'm lying down - tired, irritated, angry and with a headache pounding my head. My day at the Cram School was not at all a good one. Neither was this morning one of my best. I woke up from a terrible nightmare.

I dreamt that was a transboy. A pre-operative female to male transgendered person. And, I was at the local McDonald's for a snack. There I needed to use the restroom. There was a queue of balding middle aged men in front of the men's room. I joined the queue, extremely concerned about passing as male. I hadn't had top surgery yet. The men would glance at me but then looked away as though I was an embarrassment. Nobody asked any questions, although.

Soon it was my turn and I was inside the restroom. Then, he came in. Skin unnaturally dark like black leather, an extremely ugly, contorted face. He was unusually thin - almost two dimensional - and extremely tall. He hardly looked human.

He was furious. He told me that I wasn't supposed to use this restroom. I replied something incoherent. He commanded that I strip down to prove I was a male. I refused. He growled that I was a disgusting freak and did not deserve to be in this restroom. Advancing on me threateningly, he said that he was going to show me my place. I knew what was going to happen but somehow, I couldn't move to save myself. I was rooted to the spot in extreme fright. Then all of a sudden my Dad was at the door. I pleaded him to save me but he was somehow frozen still as a statue. He could do nothing.

What happened then, I'm unsure. It's a blur. Next thing that I do remember was that I was running with terror tearing at my heart. And I was crying.

I was crying and running through the Cram School but the place was unrecognizable. It seemed as if the building and its corridors had fed themselves and grown like branches of a tree.

Dad was running alongside me. We had both escaped - how, I know not. I told him I needed to talk to a lady who works at the cram school about the assault. 'Sexual assault' - I remember using that phrase. Strangely enough, I have never talked to this lady in my life but in this dream I believed that she was a counselor and could help me.

We found her sitting with some other kids near an artificial fountain. I told her I had been sexually assaulted. She looked kindly at me and asked us to follow her to her office. We made to follow her. Dad was a little way ahead of me and had just entered the building with the counselor at which instant, my assailant came out of nowhere and attacked me, once more.

I managed to fight him off and tore blindly into the building to find myself in an unfamiliar dark corridor with the assailant in hot pursuit. I fled for my life. The corridor came to a dead end ahead and I was trapped. Terrified. The walls loomed in front of me. I turned around. He was approaching on legs that were long - too long. Then he was towering over me. I slipped through the gap between his legs and ran. He skidded and stumbled before turning around to pursue me again. Even as I ran from him, I knew his long legs would catch up with me soon - but suddenly I was clear of the dark corridor and was running in twilight on a street. I ran around a bend and found myself some distance away from the counselor's office where Dad also was. Across the street from the counselor's office, there was a kiosk where a policeman and a policewoman were selling magazines and newspapers. My assailant lurked around the bend, not daring to come any nearer.

At that moment I realized that I had patches of beard growing on my face like knots of grass. Suddenly the point of view changed and I was looking at myself. My face looked hideous with those weird patches of hair on it. The point of view switched back to mine.

I told Dad that I was going to tell the cops. But the cops ignored me. They were too busy arranging magazines. A bull came charging out of nowhere and demolished the kiosk with a single ram of his horns. The very next moment, my assailant was upon me.

I screamed in anguish - it might have been a moan, I don't know. I turned on my side and suddenly my eyes flew open. I found myself drenched in cold sweat and tangled in sheets. I ran a palm across my cheeks to find them reassuringly smooth. Realizing that it had been only a nightmare, I glanced at the clock which said 7.06 AM. Lying back down, I let it all sink in. I was shaking - physically and mentally.

This nightmare somehow managed to combine some of my fears into one sucker punch - public restroom phobia, anxiety of gender presentation in public, body image issues, the stupid cram school etc.

I now know of another fear that had been lurking in some corner of my subconscious until this morning, when it was brought to the fore by a traumatizing dream.

Getting over a nightmare is easy and I think I almost have... but what happens to those who must live with the knowledge that their worst nightmare has become, in fact, a crippling reality?

Slip inside the eye of your mind...

2009-09-28T10:21:00.002+05:30

Similar words, different sentiments?

"There is no place like home
When you've got no place to go"
- Green Day
(¿Viva La Gloria?)

"How can I be lost
If I've got nowhere to go?"
- Metallica
(The Unforgiven III)

Or do they hold the same meaning essentially?

Homophobic Trends and Twitter Wars

2009-09-05T18:52:00.009+05:30

Today around 1.00 AM IST, while almost everyone on this side of the Atlantic was asleep, a new twitter trend reared its head. True to my vampire nature, I was up with my friends across the pond (and a couple of European nightowls as well) when we noticed this trending topic and went ballistic: #uknowhowiknowuregay

Tackyness and poor grammar aside, it really was as bad as it sounds. Tweets promoting this trend ranged from silly to truly homophobic. Most such tweets were rife with gay bashing and offensive stereotyping, outrageous regardless of whether the hashtag had initially been intended as a light-hearted joke or not. Some idiot thought it would make a good trending topic and that's how it began.

@thelinster coined a counter-trend to revolt against the ongoing gay bashing: #yaygay. Starting with tweetsbians, it wasn't long before the #yaygay hashtag gained popularity. Retweet upon retweet, people were urged to attach #yaygay to their pro-LGBT tweets. Some were aiming solely to overthrow the trend while some were also trying to educate the perpetuators of #uknowhowiknowuregay by hijacking the offensive hashtags in the process.

Sometime mid-war, a similar hashtag slipped into the trending topics: #uknowhowiknowurgay, without the 'e' in 'ure'.

This was the first Twitter war I participated in. I don't care much about trends but this one hit too close to home not to follow. I was among the handful who ignited the #yaygay rebellion and were involved in it from the start. More and more people kept joining in. 6 hours and gazillions of tweets later the mission was accomplished around 7.00 AM IST and #yaygay became the no. 1 trending topic. In the meanwhile, Twitter had apparently removed #uknowhowiknowuregay and #uknowhowiknowurgay from its homepage due to the controversy it had caused. Exhausted, I fell asleep at half past seven in the morning.

Check out the first few pages of my twitter stream for a glimpse of what went through. For a more statistical, er, trendistical approach go over to Prerna Lal's blog.

A bit silly, I know. But it does attach importance to the power of community in social media. It is amazing how there were less than 10 of us in the beginning but the numbers grew steeply and #yaygay soon became the top trending topic, if only for a while.

Sadly, Twitter also removed the #yaygay trend from its homepage for undisclosed reasons. #twitterfail, anyone?
It's angering that this trend was censored soon after it became the top trend. It was a revolt of sorts against the gay bashing that the Queer community has always been subject to. I'm trying not to go into the whole biased censorship thing here but I do know for a fact that the homophobic trends were up for hours until we decided to do something about it. You can read more on that here.

Because our lives are way too short to waste on hate, let's embrace love and equality for all. #yaygay [link]

A big thank you and a bear hug to each one of the rebels. Good job, soldiers! Yay gay!

Honest Scrap

2009-08-31T23:59:00.004+05:30

Tag, I’m it! Kyle at Butchtastic has named me, along with 9 others, Honest Scrap.

There are three rules for this award:

First, link back to the person who gave you the award: Kyle

Next, I'm supposed to give the award to ten other bloggers but almost everyone I know has already been tagged. So...

I'm tagging:

1. Joey
2. Tina
3. The Unsung Psalm
4. Britni
5. You. Yes, YOU.

10 Honest Things About Myself:

1. Majority of my wardrobe is black, down to the underwear. Lately, I have been wanting to change that. I need more color in my life.

2. Believe it or not, the first record I ever bought was a Ricky Martin CD. I was a tiny boy then, a misguided soul trapped in the entrenchments of MTV India and Channel V. It wasn't until a couple of years later that an enlightened man on the Internet rescued me and introduced me to Satan's music.

3. I believe I have committment issues. One of my best friends sometimes tries to convince me otherwise. Then she turns around and calls me "Shane." Ha?!

4. Extremely addicted to the Internet though I am, I always seem to have a backlog of web related things to get through. Emails, blog posts, forum replies to name a few.

5. The hair on my forearms is longer than the hair on the sides of my head. I might just turn into a wolf any day now.

6. My tear glands are more active than I would like them to be. In other words, I cry easily. But my tears are silent.

7. I have read each book in the Harry Potter series multiple times. The first one over 50 times, decreasing gradually approaching the seventh book (7 times). I can easily quote some parts of the books from memory.

8. I like most of Eminem's music. I even have his poster on my wall but sometimes I want to tear it off, generally when I listen to his blatantly sexist tracks.

9. I sometimes watch porn for laughs. Most of it is fake enough to the point of being amusing.

10. Since we're being completely honest, here's a public confession. I wanted to send thank you notes to those who were involved in sending me the compression vest. I bought cards the same day I received the package but never got around to writing in them. I still really want to send them in but I fear it's too late now.
*hangs head in shame*

Playing God: The Boringly Scandalous Bits

2009-08-31T01:50:00.006+05:30

~~~~~

Listening to: Tiesto feat. Tegan and Sara - Feel It In My Bones

~~~~~

Sometimes I wonder what would happen if the Sims characters came out of the game and took revenge on us players for all that we make them go through.

[Click on any and all to enlarge]

Exploring the neighborhood...

Having apple pancakes for breakfast with roomies...

Making "friends" with cute girls at pool parties...

And later, painting with sapphic overtones.

Is that Kanye West making out with my military hero sim?

What does a punk rocker's first kiss look like?

Snogging the girlfriend after a strenuous
workout session. SO relaxing. ;)

There were more screenshots but I decided not to bore you. I've made my sims do everything from homework to housework to stealing king size beds to rummaging in dustbins to fishing for hours to baking cookies to repairing the WC and... Oh, never mind.

I even created an obnoxious, ugly, green-skinned, purple-haired sim just to kill him off. I gave him the 'hydrophobic' and 'coward' traits, moved him into a lot which had only a swimming pool, made him get in and built walls all around it. He was trapped and terrified and drowned in a few sim hours. Then the Grim Reaper came... Muahahahaha!

Have fun!

P.S. Having done this post, the feeling that I need to get a life has grown stronger than ever.

P.P.S. Yes, I do realize that most of these screencaps involve sims kissing each other. That does not mean it was the only interesting part in The Sims 3 game. Though it does, in a way, indicate the lack of life in my perpetually uneventful existence. One word: Llamas.

Shane and Carmen (and some others) - The Sims 2 Style

2009-08-21T03:09:00.000+05:30

I spent several hours this week playing The Sims 3. Between juggling multiple households in-game and catching up on my favorite sci-fi shows, I found these old Sims 2 screenshots I took in March while I was still new to The Sims franchise.

Some of you might already be familiar with Shane McCutcheon and Carmen de la Pica Morales of The L Word and their doomed love story. They were one of my favorite couples on the show until Mama Chaiken rained down her wrath on her meta-masturbatory opus and decided that the lesbians of this planet didn't need Sharmen anymore.

(Click on pictures to enlarge)

But what cannot be had on TV can be had on a computer, specifically in a game where you play God. Barely two weeks into The Sims 2, I had begun consuming vast amounts of custom content available for free download on the Interwebs. It wasn't long before I had a Shane McHeartbreaker doll sitting in my game and a Carmen Sexbomb to go along.

Being the lothario that Shane is, she had a great time flirting and making out with the local ladies. However, in utter contradiction to the show, she didn't have a long list of conquests yet. It seemed that in my Kingdom, Shane McHeartbreaker was waiting for her Carmen Sexbomb to come along.

[Making out with I don't remember whom. And the reason Shane is wearing that horrid camouflage suit I downloaded is that the original game didn't have anything else butch enough.]

Which she did. And soon.

[Sharmen on a date]

Up sprang the "Wants":

[Shane's Want]

[Carmen's Want]

Making out on the bed before "WooHooing":

[That's a Linkin Park bedspread. Yeah, yeah... I know what you're thinking.]

The morning after:

[I gave her a set of Green Day's "American Idiot" undies, so what? I'm just a geek like that... Playing God, after all.]

And... The following evening:

[Shane - back to her old ways. I think her new date was a colleague she brought home from work.]

That was The Sims 2 and four months ago. The Sims 3 is the rage now. For a look at what this Sim God has been up to lately, check out my next post. Cheers! ^_^

Shor Bazaar's "Savita Bhabhi"

2009-08-20T05:08:00.009+05:30

Around three weeks ago, my friend Kris' band Shor Bazaar (Noise Market) released their first single "Savita Bhabhi" independently. For the foreigners, Savita Bhabhi is an Indian comic porn character. Since in the Indian society anything related to sex is a huge taboo, the government decided to ban the porn site. Shor Bazaar dedicate this single to Savita Bhabhi and to the freedom of expression.

In Kris' own words:

"Personally, I believe Savita Bhabhi.com is a very genuine and creative concept - at least, from the point of view of our society. I see her as person who defied the stereotype of an Indian woman, always bound by restrictions and rules, suffocated of a right to express her feelings and desires.

It is unfortunate that our Government decided to ban the website. I feel that the echoes the discrimination towards sexual minorities. Hence, this song feels like a liberation - a tribute to freedom of expression, the freedom to be yourself."

The song is a humorous, tongue-in-cheek take on the travails of young men with their graphic object of fantasy - Savita Bhabhi. If you understand Hindi, check out the single on the links given below. If you don't, check it out anyway for the music. Cheers! ^_^

- Shor Bazaar Blog: http://bazaarshor.blogspot.com
- GimmeSound.com: http://www.gimmesound.com/ShorBazaar/
- ReverbNation: http://www.reverbnation.com/shorbazaar/
- MySpace: http://myspace.com/bazaarshor/
- MyBand.co.in: http://www.myband.co.in/Shor_Bazaar/
- Chordvine: http://chordvine.com/
- SoundClick: http://www.soundclick.com/bands/default.cfm?bandID=927184

Homewards!

2009-08-13T23:53:00.002+05:30

I leave tomorrow morning for home, on a one week vacation. I'll be there till 22 August by which time:

India will have celebrated her 62nd Independence Day.
I will have gone through a thorough medical check up because I haven't been on my best health ever since I returned to the Cram City in April.
I will have frequented the nearest KFC outlet multiple times.
I will have started doing math, seriously.
I will have played The Sims 3 for hours.

In other news, New Delhi is under swine flu scare. My mother, being the nervous little soul that she is, called me up yesterday warning me about it. At one point she suggested that I cancel the trip, which prompted me to give her the well heard one-liner:

"Now, Mom, a million people have died from AIDS yet no one wants to wear a condom. Ten die from swine flu and everybody wants to wear a mask?"

This was followed by a flustered pause at her end, punctuated by my chuckles.

Oh, come on now, Mom, we both know that I know more about sex-related things than you do. My asexual behaviour is just a facade I've put up to hide my real nature. :P

It's almost midnight as I type this. I have folded my clothes but they are yet to be packed into the bag. Then there are my binder and boxer briefs which are hanging out to dry. I'll pack them tomorrow.

Speaking of boxers, my Mom doesn't know that I've acquired more than one pair by now. If you remember, she discovered my first pair in March. I wonder what her reaction would be at my latest acquisition from men's underwear section:

Only, it's sans fly this time.

What'd you think the picture would be? A full frontal shot of me wearing them? Ha! ;)

I've been warned that the Internet connection at home is quite unreliable, hence my disappearance off the face of the blogosphere for a while is a possibility.

I've bought a truckload (not really) of chocolates for my sister. Hope she likes them.

Tiredness and fuddle-headedness are a-calling. I'll take your leave here.
Good night!

Resolve

2009-08-11T11:58:00.002+05:30

Guilt, shame and tears
Yet again

Another resolve
Bonded by blood

Another's heart in my own's likeness
Bonded by earthly promises

(penned this through overwhelming emotions very early this morning)

Gender Blender: My Father's Son

2009-08-02T14:28:00.003+05:30

At home I am simply me - genderless, in a way. Perhaps genderless is what I would like to ideally be. My gender doesn't matter when I'm with my family or my closest friends. Only outdoors do consciousness and fears of gender presentation strike.

I realize that I have not talked much about my father. My Dad is a calm, quiet man. He is a caring father and quite a good cook. I shall relate to you a few incidents involving him, me and my gender.

Image source

When I still lived at home, both of us used to go together to the local barber shop for haircuts. Around two years ago in Kolkata, our old barber shut down his shop for some reason and we had to find a new one. The new barber, as he cut my hair, asked Dad whether I was his boy. He said that yes, I was his son.

I was angry.

That was two years ago and it was the first time he had done such a thing. I have changed a lot since. Those days I was struggling hard with my gender identity. I hated being stared at (I still do) and I felt that it could get worse if they were told that I was a boy only to find out later that I was not.

I expressed my anger to Dad. He said he won't do it again but also that it was no big deal.

More recently in March '09 when I was in Delhi on vacation something else happened. I bought my music player at a shop in Nehru Place I generally buy blank DVDs from. The shopkeeper had always taken me to be a boy and I had never told him otherwise. I get called "Bhaiya" ("Brother") or "Sir" about fifteen times a day so I don't bother correcting anyone anymore.

Dad had come along with me this time. While I compared different music players, the shopkeeper struck up a conversation with him. He got quite confused because Dad was using female pronouns to refer to me.

Once we exited the shop, I made a request similar to the one that I had made to Mom the previous week in Palika Bazaar. I asked him not to use female pronouns for me in public. He nodded in agreement.

At the next shop, upon being asked by a friendly shopkeeper whether I was his son, he replied, "Yes."

Cut to April 4, '09, on my way back to Kota from Delhi. Dad and I shared a train compartment with another family. Their son was also going to Kota. Since I look like a 13 year old boy, they were amazed when I said that I was in fact an year senior to their son (who looked quite like a man). His mother spoke to my Dad along the lines of, "..aapka beta.." ("..your son.."). My Dad honored my earlier request and did not question their perception of my gender. But this time, I interrupted to say that I wasn't a boy. They were quite surprised at this proclaimation but Dad's face was inscrutable.

I came out because I did not want awkwardness later during the trip. It was a wise move because the mother got quite chatty with us, asking me all sorts of questions about student life in Kota. But how had my Dad felt, then, about my contradictory words and actions? I don't know.

Poor man, he must be so confused.

I don't want this confusion for him. I deal with it enough everyday to know how awful it is. I have no idea what he thinks of it. We don't talk about it. In fact, these days we don't talk much at all.

I wish I could protect him from the mess my gender identity is. I wish he would understand what I'm going through. Maybe he does. Maybe...

When I was little enough to fit wholly on the window sill, I would climb and sit there, staring at the road awaiting his return from work. Mom would try to bring me down and fail. When he would finally return, I would jump up in his arms and kiss him. I would take his helmet and put it on my little head. I would wear his shirt and prance around the house - a little boy who wanted to grow up in his father's shoes.

We would go on evening strolls. We would play on the swings, slides and see-saw in the park. He would hold me at night, tell me stories and lull me to sleep. Sometimes, I want to go back to those times.

Then he was promoted and suddenly we didn't have as much time together anymore.

Meanwhile, my mother's health deteriorated and all our attention was diverted to her. He had to manage everything all by himself (and he did a very good job of it). Our connection was lost between his busy schedule and Mom's delicate health during my tween years. This was around the time I went in denial.

I have since grown up and we have grown apart.

In public spheres, am I his daughter or am I his son? My tomboyishness has evolved into this dapper masculinity, a gender deviance. It is hard to classify. It is difficult to understand.

Maybe someday we will sit down and talk about these things. Maybe someday we will laugh about it. Maybe someday I can proudly be my father's son.

I will be my father's son - but only to the world because between the two of us, it doesn't matter.

To him I am genderless.

To him I am his daughter, his son, his baby.

Do You Like My Fauxhawk?

2009-07-22T11:28:00.001+05:30

My fauxhawk

I have been thinking of getting a somewhat radical haircut. Maybe something like buzzed hair on the sides of my head. How about getting stripes on the sides? I would still want to be able to make a fauxhawk (preferably one that goes all the way down the back of my head) after the haircut. I've been letting my hair grow for almost two months now. For me, that's a long time. I'm also considering fauxhawks with relatively longer hair similar to the picture below. The problem is that my hair is pretty unmanageable so I find long hair (relatively speaking) quite irritating and difficult to maintain. Your ideas and suggestions are most welcome.

Statutory warning: Smoking is injurious to health :P

In other news, my cellphone memory chip crashed early morning on July 10, taking with it all my data - photos, apps, music and journal entries - down under. Among other cool things like photos of my most awesome hairstyles, I had taken some photos to show you how the compression vest is working out for me (which is pretty well, by the way). Now it will have to be worked on again. I have not bought another chip yet. I will, in a day or two.

Although unrelated, I want to share with you this article I came across today:
The Heterosexual Questionnaire

Have a great day! ^_^

Delhi High Court Overturns Section 377: I Am Not A Criminal Anymore

2009-07-03T02:06:00.005+05:30

Yesterday, the Delhi High Court decriminalized homosexuality by reading down Section 377 of the Indian Penal Code in a historic judgement. The court said that criminalizing of gay sex between consenting adults is a violation of fundamental human rights. In doing this, it has set a strong precedent for other State High Courts and Lower Courts that might hear cases involving Section 377 in the future.

Although the ruling is technically valid only in the state of Delhi, legal view is that it is a precedent that no other jurisdiction would challenge. A Supreme Court ruling would have governed all over India. As yet, the Central government has said nothing regarding whether there will be an appeal to the Supreme Court. [1] [2]

Provisions of Section 377 will continue to govern non-consensual penile non-vaginal sex and penile non-vaginal sex involving minors.

The entire judgement can be read here.

A few highlights (courtesy @gay_india):

Delhi High Court holds that sexual orientation is analogous to sex and that discrimation on basis of sexual orientation is not permitted. This judgement effectively implies that discrimintion on the basis of sexual orientation is held illegal as well.

"Those perceived as 'deviant' or 'different' are not excluded or ostracised from inclusiveness of the constitution."

"Homosexuals are subject to extensive prejudice because what they are perceived to be, not because of what they do."

"Where society can display inclusiveness and understanding, marginalised can be assured of a life of dignity and non-discrimination."

This is so amazing. I had never ever thought that my country would get here, to this point, so soon. I used to wonder whether I would ever see homosexuality become legal in my life, in this country. Looks like I underestimated the integrity of the Judiciary and of my countrypeople. The past few days have been great for me, what with my very happy coming out to my sister and now the legalization of homosexuality.

-----

A little sugar: Delhi - Love Under The Rainbow : Desicritics.org

A little non-sugar: Same sex, same rights now - Samay Live
To quote my friend @The_Whipster [a.k.a RWS], "This is the worst article ever written in the history of the world!"

-----

Happy though I am, I would be lying if I said that I am not worried about a few things:

I'm afraid, now that the wingnuts are white-hot with fury, if the case is brought to the Supreme Court, it might override Delhi HC and rule against us. Even the Law minister V. Moily is opposed to the Delhi HC ruling.

Also, the police has been known for harassing and exploiting gay men and transwomen under threat of Section 377. I'm not sure whether this ruling will have any effect on the predatory ways of the 'protectors of citizens' because not many people will sue in fear of being outed. Mind, the society still largely holds homosexuality as against 'Indian Culture'.

I don't mean to sound pessimistic but I do fear there could be a huge backlash against the community. Queer bashing could most likely increase with rapes and murders of LGBT people like it happens in the USA. Indian society still remains mostly against homosexuality. In a country where there have been cases of extremist fathers shooting their daughters dead if they run away to marry a lover, I can forsee similar honour killings happening because a gay son dared to stand up against his orthodox family.

Yet, these are reasons to not give up and keep fighting all the more. We have kept our heads down this long, now is the time to hold our heads high in defiance of 'morality' forced on us by the religious extremists. With the law on our side, the society is due to follow anytime now. It is wonderful that the Judiciary chose to be on the right side this time. Kudos to the fair Judges and persevering Queer rights activists. This is a huge day for everyone who has been fighting tooth and nail for rights of millions of people.

One steady step on the lowest rung of the ladder but we have a long climb ahead of ourselves. By no means is this the end of the battle. We shall continue to fight harder, louder and prouder against oppression and eventually victory shall be ours. It is only a matter of time.

Coming Out to Lil' Sis

2009-06-29T23:59:00.000+05:30

June 28, I decided, was most appropriate for coming out to my younger sister. What with it being the 40th anniversary of the Stonewall riots and with Queer Pride marches being held in three major Indian cities and over the world.

Around 8:30 PM, I leaned back in my chair. I had just had momos and Diet Coke. I had taken off my watch, glasses and shoes. I hadn't taken off my binder because it somehow reminds me what I am. My wallet was taken out of my back pocket and thrown on the bed. I tried to relax.

At long last, I called her and spent half an hour making small talk with her, with Mom and with her back again. As I was about to blurt it out ["You probably already know..."] there was a disturbance at her end as the power went out and commotion ensued. Now, I had gotten this far to the point and I wasn't keen on hanging up because of a power cut. But Mom had entered her room and Dad was stumbling around looking for a flashlight so she pleaded me to call back later. I yielded, fuming.

She called me back instead, only about 5 minutes later as the power had come back on. After ensuring that her door was closed and she was alone in her room, we resumed our conversation. I chose a safe subject to initiate the topic: movies.

Me: Did you see that other movie I recommended, Imagine Me and You?

Lil' Sis: Not yet.

Me: Okay. Have you looked it up on the web?

Lil' Sis: Yes and I already know what it is about. I don't even need to watch it, you know, because I heard the whole thing when you were here and you saw it on the computer while I seemingly slept.

[This happened back in March when I was home on vacation and we had to share a room. The desktop is placed right beside her bed.]

I then asked her whether she knew what else I had been watching. She replied, "I'm not going to tell you." When I persisted:

Lil' Sis: Well, there's that show with that actress, Katherine Mongysomething.

Me: Katherine Moennig?

Lil' Sis: Yeah, that one. Shane. From that show.

Me: Are you going to utter the name of "that show" at all?

Lil' Sis: No.

Me: (enjoying myself) Oh, come on.

Lil' Sis: It's.. that.. L..

Me: "L" what?

Lil' Sis: (annoyed) Oh alright! The L Word! And I've looked it up on Wikipedia as well. There's Shane and Carmen and Leisha Hailey in it and... I know you downloaded its episodes when you were here.

Prompt came the confession.

Me: Well, you've most probably already guessed and it doesn't matter if you haven't because I trust you. I want you to know that -

Lil' Sis: (cutting me off) Wait... Are you like Ellen?

Me: Well, not exactly "like Ellen" but yes, I'm gay.

Lil' Sis: That's okay. I knew it. Ever since you were in 10th grade, I've known.

Me: How?

Lil' Sis: The way you are. You're different. And cool. And I'm alright with you being yourself.

That was it. I could die happy right then.

She asked me whether I was telling her this because "of all these marches happening today". I then explained to her the significance of June 28 as the anniversary of Stonewall riots. Our conversation seemed to go on for hours as we talked about all things queer. Movies, music and her thoughts about having a queer sibling. Her reply, "You're the coolest. Nobody else has a sister like mine." -- Exactly what I feel about her.

At one point, she said, "But I'm normal."
"Normal?", I reacted.
"No, no, I didn't mean it that way. I'm not like you. I mean I am..."
"Straight?"
"Never mind. Let me figure it out first, then I'll tell you."
I left it at that.

We talked about a lot more things queer and straight. I'll write about them later. I did ask her whether Mom and Dad had seen any coverage of Pride events. She wasn't sure but said that they had read the newspaper in any case. At that moment they were busy cooking dinner. Dad was multitasking: helping Mom with dinner, humming a song, talking and watching some cricket match that was on.

She asked me when I'll tell our parents. I replied that not before I get a job. After, maybe. I asked her not to tell them. I also talked about my alter ego on the Internet and requested her not to go looking for him. I trust her. She's not a nosey little git like the siblings those teens on those stupid Disney TV shows have. She respects my privacy a lot.

My Lil' Sis is a bright little gem, only 12, so understanding... and the coolest sister in the world. I just love her so much!

Big cheers and happy Pride, everyone! ^_^

Double Whoop!

2009-06-21T03:08:00.004+05:30

The Freezing Flames turned an year old on the 5th of June. What's more, this is my 100th blog post. I've come a long way since my poor excuse for a first blog post and am quite happy to have gotten into blogging. The blogosphere is a dynamic, vibrant and interesting place to be in. It has also helped me make such awesome friends. I want to thank each and every one of my audience members for managing to digest my trash for one whole year without puking, fainting, falling sick or dying. You're the best!
:D

I know that I've been pretty quiet lately. I don't post much and I also have a backlog of emails to be replied. The only places I've been active on are Twitter and my feed reader. Somehow, I'm going through some sort of chronic selective network withdrawal.

Anyway, here are a few random updates on my life...

I've decided upon coming out to my sister, long distance. I told you about my suspicions that she suspects. More recently, she:
- discovered more LGBT artists in my music collection
- expressed her support for LGBT equality
- has hesitantly shared with me her plans for staging a lesbian wedding on The Sims 3
- fished around a bit for information on my virtual life
- watched Milk and loved it
- asked me to be not like Lucas but like Ellen, i.e. not transition but remain a tomboy/butch dyke
- is as excited as I am about an upcoming movie about The Runaways starring Kristen Stewart as Joan Jett who, we all know, is queer.
I'm almost completely sure that she knows. So, it's a waste not telling her and getting over with it already. The only problem is that I am unable to come up with exactly how to go about it. A phone call is the most viable option. How about, "Hey, you probably have guessed it already but I'm queer. Not just gay. Queer. And yeah, I agree that the Jonas Brothers suck. Bye."
The binder that was a gift from my very generous and thoughtful friends is working out great for me. I no longer have to endure any kind of pain. The rib ache and back ache are gone, gone, gone. Thanks a lot, guys!
My eyesight has deteriorated even more. Any tips on improving it?
My grades have dropped very sharply. I associate it with procrastinating and not studying. I feel terrible.
My room needs tidying up and my shoes need cleaning.
My academic reputation which has been biting dust since May 2008 needs to be earned back again.
I've been having sudden cravings for:
- cheese
- chicken
- momos
- The Sims 3

That's all for now. Cheers! ^_^

The "Phony" Trans Movement

2009-06-03T03:22:00.002+05:30

About a couple of hours ago, I came across this article in my feed reader:

Sacramento Based Radio Hosts Defame, Advocate Violence Against Transgender Children : glaadBLOG.org

Here's an excerpt from the article:

"In a long tirade on the Rob, Arnie & Dawn in the Morning radio show, heard in Sacramento, California, on KRXQ 98.5 FM, hosts Rob Williams and Arnie States verbally attacked transgender children when discussing a recent story about a transgender child and her parents' decision to support her in Omaha, NE."

The article focuses on the demand by GLAAD (Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation) for an apology and for proper action to be taken against the hosts. Though it does not shed much light on what the radio hosts actually said, it provides a link to the original recording itself.

Click here to listen

I could not bear to listen to it for more than 12 minutes. It is nothing more than an ignorant, illogical, disrespectful and downright hateful diatribe by a couple of transphobes, one of whom makes childish attempts to drown their opponent's protests by making funny noises. Although this host claims to be fairly open minded, he says that once he has come to a conclusion, he's not open anymore. That's when my ears strain to close themselves.

Rob Williams sparks off the debate by talking about peanut allergy. Yes, he effectively compares transsexuality to peanut allergy. He says how he has researched and found that allergies are "phony" and all of them are, in fact, treatable. Do tell me how, Williams, because I believe I am violently allergic to you.

He goes on to describe the Trans movement as "sillyness" and "phony". Being trans is "all about drama" is a "gimmick and schtick" and transpeople are desperate "drama queens".

He calls on the parents of this transsexual child against "enforcing the idea that he is a girl". I don't think that this guy knows any transperson in his life. He doesn't know what adult transfolks would have given to not have gone through puberty in the wrong body. He has no idea about the hurt he is causing by uttering these words. Or maybe he does and thinks that they deserve the venom because they're "evil drama queens". And yeah, "freaks", "weirdos", "liars" and probably a bunch of other degradatory things.

He says, "All it takes is a hug, maybe some tough love or anything in between." I couldn't bear listening to the whole recording myself but news reports say that Arnie States actually advocates physical abuse as a cure for transsexuality, saying that if his son ever expressed a desire to wear high heels, he will beat him up with his own shoe.

This shows just how little thought these so-called entertainers have given to their words before condoning discrimination and violence against transpeople. They don't care if a 15 year old kid gets shot at by his classmate for being who he is. They don't care if 11 year old boys kill themselves over being bullied and called 'sissies'. They don't care how many trans teens commit suicide every year because of people like them. They don't care if other ignorant people take their irresponsible words to heart and violently lash out at transsexuals, even if it is their own child.

Of course, all transpeople must be such desperate attention-seekers that they will willingly sign up for a life of discrimination, rejection, violence and mortal fear.

On the subject of therapists and doctors looking over and performing sex reassignment procedures, he says that doctors, therapists and psychologists will propagate and legitimize anything as long as they get their checks. Is this man for real or what?

I just couldn't bring myself to listen to the whole thing. It was so bad that I wanted to tear off my hair.

Props to Dawn, one of the three hosts, who stands up for transpeople, tries to make her colleague see sense and also, who "cried over the plight of these people" the last time they talked on this topic. You bet. Anybody who has functioning brain and heart would cry at the insensitivity and hatred with which Williams rants about "phony" (that's his favorite word, apparently) and "attention-seeking" transpeople.

Williams and States, do you know what's phony? You.

For the sake of their children, I just hope that their own kids are not trans. They might just abuse them to death to cure that phony sillyness.

Art Thieves

2009-06-01T23:57:00.002+05:30

A few weeks ago, I learned that Australian artist Hazel Dooney was giving away 500 free signed special edition photographic prints to celebrate the 500th entry on her blog Self vs. Self. I promptly signed up for myself.

It arrived today via surface mail, while I was out for class. When I returned in the evening, my landlady gave the envelope to me. I took it upstairs to my room, admired it and then had my good friend-cum-housemate join me and discuss.

A while later, I noticed something strange. The envelope had been taped shut at the other end. Something was wrong. Somebody had probably tampered with my mail.

I got mad.

I went to my friend's room and told her about it. She advised me to take the tape off. I did that and immediately saw that the envelope flap had been peeled open earlier.

Tampered with: peeled open at the opposite end

I went to my landlord and lady and asked them about when it had arrived. They said that they weren't sure because the domestic help had handed the envelope to them in the afternoon. It had been lying outside in the porch until then. Now, anyone (read: the pesky bitches that rent the rooms on the ground floor) could have picked up the envelope, opened it at the wrong end, looked at the contents, replaced them, affixed it with two drops of glue, then with two layers of tape upon realizing glue wasn't enough, strolled back outside and put the envelope back where they found it. I asked whether anybody else had opened it. They had no idea. They asked if anything was missing. How would I know?

I can guess what might have piqued their curiosity. The envelope had come all the way from Australia with the words 'Studios' and 'Photograph only' on it. So, they decided to sneak a peek.

PHOTOGRAPH ONLY

I'm not 100% sure that this happened. It could've occurred at the studio itself yet there's a big chance of it happening otherwise.

I don't care about their seeing the contents. I doubt they can tell art from porn. My friend joked that now they would've been assured that I am not a girl but a boy. I could only laugh at that. The kind of people they are, they can bitch all they want about how I'm perverted because I look at such dirty pictures. They don't have the capability to understand it and I don't give a shit. But hell, somebody bloody tampered with my mail. This is a big deal. This is a blatant intrusion of my privacy.

This incident has eclipsed my happiness at owning this piece of art.

People have no consideration. Fuck, what's a kid gotta do to have an ounce of privacy in this asshat town?

Another Surprise!

2009-05-21T23:15:00.003+05:30

On Tuesday at 11.40 A.M. somebody knocked on my door. I had gone to sleep only about an hour earlier after having stayed up studying all night. I turned in my bed and slept on. Then the knocking turned to pounding combined with the calls of my housemate. I awoke with a start, hastily pulled some clothes on and answered the door.

She: "You've got mail."
Me (checking my cellphone): "Huh?"
She: "Not that kind. Courier. The guy is waiting downstairs."

Hearing that, I ran downstairs to the waiting FedEx delivery guy, signed the receipt, accepted the package and climbed back upstairs. I turned the envelope over and saw it had come from Connecticut, USA.

On May 11th, Tina contacted me saying that they have something for me and asked what my shirt size was. I responded, asking what it was but she refused to give any more hints. Although, she guaranteed that I would like it.

A little more than a week later, here the package was, on my table. I opened the envelope, extracted the object and looked at it for a surprised moment. Then, I jumped around my room in ecstasy for a while.

It was a binder.

There were four notes inside the envelope. I read them, my eyes shining with joy. They were from Tina, Jess, Leo, Freedomgirl, Holden and femmeismygender. With every line, my heart swelled with love for them. Tina mentioned that more people were involved in the sending of this package for me. I want to thank each and every one of you from the bottom of my heart. You must know how much this means to me. Your thoughtfulness and kindness blew me away. I'm so very thankful to you for this gift. So much that I'm unable to voice the gratitude I feel. Words fail me. Just know that you've made me a very, very happy kid.

You should also know that I had been wanting a proper binder for a very long time. A vest like this one would have to be bought online and would've cost me around $50. That amounts to a lot when converted to Rupees. I didn't have that kind of money. I couldn't ask my parents either because that would involve coming out. I had been contemplating setting up a binder fund for around three months. But even then, there were lots of problems. One of my best friends was even willing to lend me her savings, yet that wouldn't have sufficed. Although I didn't admit it to myself, I was on the verge of giving up. Then, this package arrived.

This compression vest once belonged to Jess and has been used on a few occassions. He no longer uses this one. It is a size M, I guess, because I told Tina that's my shirt size.

Compared to Ace which was hell, the vest feels like heaven. I no longer have to endure rib ache and back ache. Ace bandage crushed my ribs and restricted my breath and flexibility. The compression vest, on the other hand, works with my body to give it a nice shape. Granted, it doesn't flatten my breasts but it makes my clothes fit me just right. When viewed from the side, my breasts are quite discernible but from the front, it looks like a smooth chest. The vest also trims my tummy, which is another awesome thing. I can breathe freely now, move as I will, walk without hunching and no longer have to go through sleepless nights of stabbing pain.

Although, judging by the shoulder span, width and the fit I think I might be a size S. I'm not sure because I have no experience with compression vests. Even so, this vest really is an awesome improvement for the Ace binder. Yes, Leo, I'm throwing the Ace away.

Once again, I would like to thank all of you. You are wonderful. I love you.

Hugs and kisses,
A Happy, Happy Kid.

Gender Blender: A Surprise

2009-05-08T01:21:00.006+05:30

22 March, 2009
Palika Bazaar, New Delhi

Mom: "______, where are you going?"

Me: "Over there. I think I saw a Green Day t-shirt."

[She follows me into the shop]

Me: "And please don't call me by my name in public. People stare. It makes me uncomfortable."

My name is quite feminine -- feminine like Jane, Stacey, Anna and the lot. I like it. It is short and cute. What I dislike is when it is used to address me in public spaces and people around stare at me, probably questioning their perception of my gender. Their stares (generally focused at my chest region) and whispers make me uncomfortable and very self-conscious. I try to pass as male wherever possible or else stares, whispers and questions arise, adding to my discomfort. Although, some individuals non-conforming to the gender binary say that they find such situations enjoyable, I often don't. When such confusion arises among a small group of acquaintances, it is alright. Even I may find it enjoyable then. But when it comes to being stared at and muttered about in public, my discomfort surfaces. I try not to think about it and laugh it off but it isn't easy.

[Image source: The New Dowse Celebrates Gender Diversity]

During the past year, I have freely experimented with my gender expression, questioned the gender binary, tried to seek a definitive and failed. I have hence changed quite a lot. My masculinity has attained new heights, I have been binding and my hairstyles have become quite "hi-voltage". I have also begun avoiding female pronouns when speaking in Hindi and I switch over to gender neutral English when the former ploy is inapplicable. Aliases used by me at shops, cyber cafes etc. are gender neutral.

Coming back to this particular Delhi incident, I had impulsively asked my Mom not to refer to me by name in public spaces. If I had thought that she would frown and dismiss the request as preposterous, I was wrong. She hardly batted an eyelid before agreeing. She then proceeded to ask which t-shirt I wanted. My sister was there, too.

Later that night, when I was admiring my new clothes, shoes, ties and the lot at home, Mom mentioned the incident, all by herself. Lil' Sis and Dad were there as well.

Mom: I had no idea that it made you uncomfortable. You should've mentioned it earlier.

Me: [squirming] Oh no, it's not a big deal. It's just that...

Mom: You know what, from now on when we go out I'm going to call you Nick.

[My jaw hit the floor and I looked at my sister, pink in the face]

Lil' Sis: [grinning] Nick? Why not try something fancy, like Phoenix?

Me: [stammering] No, no.. Nick is fine... Just fine..

Mom was smiling. Dad was a bit surprised but was quiet as usual. My sister had now resorted to smiling mischievously and I was still busy picking my fallen jaw off the floor. I had never imagined that Mom could be so very understanding. She never even required an explanation.

Sometimes things which you least expect to happen take you by surprise. It happened to me that night. Silent euphoria ensued.