Navigating Solutions and Darkness

Photo by  Wellington Cunha  from  Pexels For almost a decade of crushing on girls, I didn't even know that homosexuality was a thing - let alone bisexuality. Even when I found out about homosexuality, of one thing I was sure - that wasn't me. I wondered though - I wondered who I might know that might be. And I thought about the older, attractive girls I admired. The ones who had a reputation for disregarding social norms and conservative school rules about segregating boys and girls. The ones I so desperately wanted to be... but never to be with. Right? I thought about them and concluded that perhaps they might do these strange things with each other - make out with each other the way guys and girls were supposed to do. I tried to imagine it, and experienced a thrill, and came away even surer than before: That that's not me. That's just not me. It was only when I found myself hanging around a schoolmate's classroom, hoping to catch even the slightes...

Written November 16, 2010 Another night with insomnia keeping me company. That and the comfort music thumping a pattern into my addled brain cells. It's funny how Facebook and sleeplessness do these things to you, but I find my thoughts slipping into places they hadn't been to in awhile. I don't really know why I'm surprised, but I've tried to move on. No, really. But I guess I can't kid myself for long. Those things I try to forget, the memories that lie in wait in that locked room, aren't going nowhere. And besides, I did promise. I promised myself that I'd go back there, and pull the covers off, and maybe even do a little bit of dusting. Mostly, I think all I want to do is just sit and bask in the atmosphere of a world I never wanted to leave. Maybe those of you out there who still have what I could never have don't really see the point to it. Maybe you guys don't understand why I flinch every time someone comes out with that ...

"I've got anxiety worming its way through my body..."

Social media doesn't determine my worth. It doesn't determine yours either. It's literally the most superficial, shallow thing to ever exist. Even so, I've always loved social media, from back before Facebook and even Orkut. All the way back to a little something called Hi5.  It all started when I overheard a bunch of kids I definitely didn't think were cool discussing Hi5. It was a social networking site, and if even they were on it, then I was definitely missing something.  To my great chagrin, the government of UAE banned Hi5 a couple of days after I first heard of it. In fact, when I tried to search for the website and found the prohibitory banner, I rather wondered if I'd somehow precipitated this by wanting to be cooler.  Then came Orkut, where the girl I'd been steadily crushing on since I was 9 wrote me a glowing "recommendation." To be honest, booking it out of Orkut as soon as Facebook became widely available was something...

It's Blogtober and I'm 4 days late to the party already. Time for some intense backdating. I was 5 when I watched  Titanic, although I've remembered myself as being 3 for some reason. I can't say I understood everything that happened in the movie - whatever happened with the place that had all the vintage car stuff was a complete mystery, and I'm pretty sure Dubai censorship rules are the reason I never realized Jack's painting was a nude painting. But there's a reason why the movie was hailed the way it was - and still is. And that is the sense of something so vast and inescapable. The sense of watching a tragedy unfold in real time, and being made to feel helpless by it. Something like that is incredibly tragic. Watching men self-destruct in real time, on the other hand, is tragicomic. My friend watched me laugh as I compared a couple of people I've dated - their patterns of self-destructive behaviours, their detachment, the utter hopelessnes...

Soon this will feel like a distant dream. Until then, may you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber. - Elise, Westworld Soft as the fabric falls over my skin, I can't help but think this is how it should be - the only way it can be.  Happiness, true happiness, is easily enough captured when you know where to look. And yet a shadow by my side reminds me, forever, that there is more to happiness than simply being happy.  I found my happiness in an ocean of tears, and I was content to drown in it. I found joy in a mirage, laughter in silence, love in the shadow of a grave. I slipped, I fell, I closed my eyes and found what felt true. Hard, cold math comes to my rescue, and I bid it go away. Hie from here, dark fiend, come to burst bubbles and dreams.  Tilt your head back, slip, slip into the spilled wishes. All the how I wishes, flitting from one pool of sunlight to another. How I, How I, How I wish I could fly. How I wish I'd never hurt again. How I w...

Written September 7, 2010 A dark series of squiggles make their way down and across the page, in that order. Cheap poetry and lame jokes are the order of the day. For once the silence has retreated and is content to watch from the top row of the bleachers. For once there's no raining on the court while the ball's in play. There's a rose that lies at the back of my locker, wilted and fading away. It's a rose I don't expect to see in bloom again. It's a rose I've put aside, but one I cannot bear to throw away. Perhaps I should consign it to the bonfire I've made in my backyard, out of all the relics from the past. Perhaps keeping it in my locker is dangerous, for it might bloom again. Roses such as this one have been known to bloom more beautiful than before, long long after they withered away into nothing more than thin brown sticks and faded and detached petals. And in my excitement, I might just reach out and grab it again, forgetting th...

Soon this will feel like a distant dream.  Until then, may you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber. -  Elise,  Westworld Chantham Kalindi Nadam - Chess ചന്തം  കാളിന്ദി നാദം  - ചെസ്സ്  I loved this movie when I first saw it. (I can never be accused of having particularly good taste). This was mostly because I used to be a huge Dileep fan. (I can never be accused of having particularly good taste). I used to be a huge Dileep fan because I found him extremely funny. (I repeat, I can never be accused of having particularly good taste).  I wouldn't go so far as to say that it was love at first sight for the  Chantham Kalindi song and I. But it was definitely crush at first sight. And then this thing happened at dance class, and my crush developed into a full strength infatuation complete with angry jealousy and fantasies inside my head.  I may have mentioned this before, but I am not a naturally talented dancer. Today, yes, I ...

Trying not to get starry eyed over this boy may have been the hardest thing I've ever done. Memories are tricky. You know how olfactory senses are supposed to be the greatest triggers for memory ever? Well, something that comes close is reopening an old, closed door... and then combining it with another old closed door opening up. Out of the blue. Man, I kind of feel like I got hit in the face by a whole bunch of doors, and yes, this is about the Backstreet Boys concert that just happened in Dubai. When I first heard about it, I remember thinking, whoa, my Instagram story feed is going to be insane when this is happening. And I was definitely right about that. I mean, damn Dubai, I thought you couldn't hurt me anymore, and now I feel like I'm fifteen all over again. I won't, I tell myself. I won't encourage these feelings, just because there's yet another lanky, chocolate boy involved. I won't long for what I can't have, won't start to imag...

August 3, 2010 Not so long ago, there was a mass of ugly, writhing worms hidden under the floorboard. And I used to go out there every now and then, and pull up the floorboard, just for the pain it gave me, to watch those motherfuckers squirm through my thoughts. Apparently creepy wormy thoughts have been replaced by punches to the backbone that knock the wind out of you, and leave a neat line of navy blue potatoes right down your back. Crazy night, I tell you, when you figure out that your name has been changed to Salome. When the fact that its your fault makes you a little happy. Just a little happier. :) You're damn sleepy, and yet you keep your eyes open out of guilt, and because you need to give yourself more cause for guilt. You have music pouring into your ears, and out of your fingers, and all you can think is that you're 3 months too late. You have your best friend telling you about how she felt like killing herself, and you're so numb, you have nothing...

അവരെ ആദ്യം കണ്ടുമുട്ടിയ നിമിഷം തുടങ്ങിയുള്ള എൻ്റെ സംശയമായിരുന്നു - അവരുടെ പേര് അവർ തന്നെ തിരഞ്ഞെടുത്തതല്ലേ എന്ന്. അറബിക്കഥയിലെ രാജകുമാരികൾക്കുള്ളപോലത്തെ പേര്. ആ പേരിന് ചേർന്ന സൗന്ദര്യവും. നൃത്തം എന്നെ പഠിപ്പിക്കാൻ ശ്രമിച്ച അനേകരിൽ രണ്ടുപേരാണ് കൂടുതലായും ഓർമ്മയിൽ വ്യക്തമാകുന്നത് - ആദ്യത്തെ അധ്യാപകയും, പിന്നെ അവസാനത്തെ അധ്യാപകനും. നൃത്തത്തിന്റെ നൃ പോലും ചെയ്യാൻ സാധിക്കാത്ത ഒരു കുട്ടിയെ സാമാന്യം നല്ല രീതിയിൽ ആടാൻ പഠിപ്പിക്കണമെങ്കിൽ, അതൊരു സാമർഥ്യം തന്നെ. ജീവിതം മുഴുവൻ നീളുന്ന ഒരു യാത്രയുടെ ആദ്യചുവടുകൾ അങ്ങനെയാണ് അനാർക്കലി എന്ന നർത്തകി എനിക്ക് കാണിച്ചു തരാൻ ഇടയായത്. തൃശൂർ ഞങ്ങളുടെ വീടിന്റെ അടുത്തുതന്നെയായിരുന്നു അനാർക്കലി പഠിപ്പിച്ചിരുന്നത്. എല്ലാ ദിവസവും ഒരേ സമയത്ത് എല്ലാവർക്കും ഒരുമിച്ചായിരുന്നു ക്ലാസ്സ് എടുത്തിരുന്നത്. ഏറ്റവും ഇളയ കുട്ടികൾ മുമ്പിലും, മുതിർന്നവർ പിന്നിലും - എല്ലാവരും തട്ടടവ് തുടങ്ങി ചെയ്തിരിക്കണമെന്നത് നിർബന്ധമായിരുന്നു. ഓരോ അടവ് കഴിയുംതോറും അത് വരെ പഠിച്ചിട്ടില്ലാത്തവർ മാറി പോയി ഇരിക്കും. അങ്ങനെ അലാരിപ്പും തോടയവും ഒക്കെ കഴിഞ്ഞ് ഏറ്റവും അവസാനം വലിയ ചേച്ചിമാർ അവരുടെ...

ഓർമ്മകളിൽനിന്നു മാത്രം പറയുന്ന കഥകളിൽ പലപ്പോഴും പിശകുകൾ കാണും. ആരോ വേറെ ആരോടോ പറഞ്ഞത് അവർ എന്നോട്... ഈ രീതിയിൽ ഞാൻ പണ്ട് കേട്ട ഒരു സിനിമയെക്കുറിച്ചുള്ള അഭിപ്രായം. കെ പി എ സി ലളിതയുടെ ചെറുപ്പകാലത്തെ സിനിമയാണിത് - തീർച്ചയായിട്ടും ബ്ലാക്ക് ആൻഡ് വൈറ്റ്. പക്ഷെ അതിന്റെ പേരോ, അതിനെ കുറിച്ച് വേറെ ഒന്നുമോ എനിക്കറിയില്ല. സിനിമയിൽ കെ പി എ സി ലളിത വർണ്ണിക്കുന്ന കഥാപാത്രത്തിനെ അവരുടെ ഭർത്താവുപേക്ഷിക്കുകയും, സിനിമയുടെ അവസാനമാകുമ്പോൾ തിരിച്ചുവരികയുംചെയ്യുന്നു. അയാളെ വർഷങ്ങൾക്ക് ശേഷം കാണുന്ന ഭാര്യ ഒന്നും മിണ്ടിയില്ല, കരഞ്ഞില്ല, ദേഷ്യപ്പെട്ടില്ല എന്നതിൽ സിനിമ കണ്ട ഒരാൾ അതിശയിക്കുകയായ്. ഇത്രയും സ്ത്രീകൾ അടിച്ചമർത്തപ്പെട്ട ഒരു നാടാണല്ലോ നമ്മുടേത്; ഒരു സ്ത്രീക്ക് ഒരു തരിപോലും അവരുടെ വികാരങ്ങൾ പ്രകടിപ്പിക്കാൻ സാധിക്കാതെ വരുന്നല്ലോ, എന്ന് ഇയാൾ അഭിപ്രായപ്പെടുകയായിരുന്നു. നമ്മുടെ മാധ്യമത്തെ വിമർശനബുദ്ധിയോടെ നോക്കുന്നതിൽ എനിക്കുണ്ടായിരുന്ന ആദ്യത്തെ അനുഭവമായിരുന്നു ഇത്. അന്നാസിനിമ ഞാൻ കാണുകയായിരുന്നെങ്കിൽ കണ്ടത് ചിന്തയില്ലാതെ ഞാൻ ഉൾകൊള്ളുമായിരുന്നു. ഇന്ന് ഞാൻ കാണുന്ന മാധ്യമത്തിന് പക്ഷെ അത്ര എളു...

Written October 10, 2010 Sandals slapping on the sidewalk The chill wind whipping at my face I’m running away from another day Running towards the night I stare out the window Stare at the clock I’m checking my watch out And the cell phone clock The teacher’s a- droning I frown at my page There’s lines of poetry And patterns curving up the margin Surely that can’t be right Surely she’s talking sums Surely there’s something somewhere I’m required to listen to But the window’s open The chill winds a- beckoning And I’m wondering what I’m doing inside On such a lovely grey evening The hall clock ticks on I turn another page And my pen’s a- doodling In a hundred different colours And a hundred different pens On a page covered with sums The hall clock strikes The door opens The chill wind is in the room Teasing my hair Asking me out Sorry guys, gotta go Maybe another day, this will go better Maybe another day I’ll do What I was supposed to do in the first place Perhaps tomorrow I’ll leav...

Soon this will feel like a distant dream.  Until then, may you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber. -  Elise,  Westworld I was introduced to Massari in high school - probably tenth grade, probably thanks to MTS and MTR, my tuition buddies. (MTR got married a couple of days ago, congrats, girl.) Tuitions were a real eye opener for me, socially speaking. It was my chance in a long time to interact with people outside of my very limited social circle. We weren't really in the habit of googling lyrics back then, except sometimes, so I didn't even understand half of what Massari's singing about for the longest time. And it really doesn't matter - even today, Be Easy  has a beat that makes it impossible to sit still. It is also so deeply coded to memories of that time that it can instantly catapult me back into that time. But Be Easy was always the consolation prize song. The palate cleanser for when you've had too many repeats of Real Love. This song has got ...

Soon this will feel like a distant dream.  Until then, may you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber. -  Elise,  Westworld സ്നേഹതുമ്പി - Snehathumbi, from the movie December This super cheesy song was my anthem when it came to my first big crush. I suppose it was the imagery of two people who know each other as kids growing up to fall in love that did the trick. I really was obsessed with this song for quite a while. The funny thing is, so was Sibnonymous. I don't know who he was crushing on at the time, but we really bonded over the whole thing. Whenever one of us began to sing it, the other would join in. Occasionally we would forget what the song sounded like, and would have to try and remind each other. At the age of 6, all of us began to go for Catechism classes for the first time. Every year, all the batches would put on a show, and our batch was assigned the story of Jairus' daughter. For the uninitiated, Jairus' daughter died of an illness, and Jesus tu...

Soon this will feel like a distant dream.  Until then, may you rest in a deep and dreamless slumber. - Elise, Westworld 2016 and 2017. Two life changing years for me - two years in which growing up has taken on so much more meaning. Even now, I can practically feel  my brain forcing my personality to change, and my perspectives to shift. In the one sense, these two years have been one fucking awful thing after the next. In the other sense, these are the best two years to have happened to me.  I'm supposed to avoid emotional rollercoasters, but that becomes a little difficult when you consistently wake up from nightmares in tears. These nightmares have little to do with my conscious mind or daily life. And yet, I'd spend the entire day smiling and chilling and generally being productive, only to face the nightmares at night. The very wide gap between what my conscious mind is doing, and what my unconscious mind is doing is rather unnerving.  And yet, "reco...

Photo by  Matt Duncan  on  Unsplash I remember the first time I fell in love with a language. It was fourth grade, and we had to learn a third language in school - after English and Arabic, both of which were compulsory. The options were Hindi, Urdu and French. I didn't know any Hindi or Urdu and my parents really couldn't help me there. The scripts were a little difficult to acclimatize to, and I really wanted to learn French. Urdu was never even really considered an option (I wonder why). The kids who learned Hindi and Urdu actually spoke it as their first language, so I guess that was pretty convenient for them. The teachers for both these languages taught in said language, I would probably have been lost from Day 1, and that would have screwed up my perfect percentages.  I was eager to learn French - I connected to it as much as I failed to connect with Hindi and Urdu. It helped that Mrs. S was glamorous in a way teachers in that school definitely weren...

My horse jumps Yet another stile Hooves spraying surf Right into my dreams Tonight So much outside Doesn't seem to touch Me/ though I watch This and a million other  Movies in dream-time Places I knew Just months ago Have lived on Behind my eyes A world or two Captured in memory Growing now Of their own accord I watch the sleep Of a million others And wonder where My pen doth stray My world revolves Despite the line And yet I know I can't leave The Past alone Written on August 29, 2010

Photo by  Luke Stackpoole  on  Unsplash Why is it That there's something In the air That I can't quite put my finger on Why is it That my lips clench Over whatever thought Is rattling the bars of my mind Tonight/ Desperate, wanting out Why is it that I have to smile Why is it that I can't say no Why is it that I couldn't remember And why is it that the memories come Rushing back tonight? Why is it that Some things are just Too crazy to be believable Too crazy to be true But just the right kind of crazy To have happened And forgotten - Written on August 4, 2010

Photo by  Drew Hays  on  Unsplash I remember the first time I saw him. I was fifteen. He was dancing, teaching the steps, and his every move was poetry in motion.  I wanted to impress him, wanted to show him I could dance too. And even though the steps were simple and repetitive, it was soon clear to everyone that I was a great dancer.  I wanted to spend every moment staring at him, drinking in his absolutely perfect features. He was so handsome, like the princes you dream about when watching Disney movies, but never actually meet in real life.  He was charming, he was friendly, he popped his collars and wore wraparound shades. There was just one problem - he was nine years older.  I've often said that the only older guy worth dating is the one that isn't interested in you. And he was one of those guys. And much happened in those months that we spent together that convinced me that he might actually like me the way I liked him....