Wednesday, June 30, 2010

Dear S!



Dear S!

Today we chatted after such a long time that I was unable to control my juvenile excitement and exuberance. Literally, if it has not been my office, I would have been shouting and bhagrafying like a kid but still I managed to go round and round at my revolving chair as a token of celebration. How strange is the fact that it has been a long time since we met online and still I don’t know how you look like? I never asked for your picture and you never intended to share one. Nevertheless, it’s cool enough because this novelty of e-communication keeps my interest and curiosity intact. Just like a writer, who develop countless characters churning out of his mind factory but his/her readers’ still carry different images of those characters. Everyone, even from Mirza Hadi Ruswa to any of his common reader will have a different and unique image of Umrao Jan Ada. Therefore, in the similar fashion, I have my own S. Every time whatever we chat about, our day-to-day life issues, occasional flirtatious remarks, our work, I just add all that up to the processing unit of my mind that have stored you. Hence, you are making your image yourself and I do not want anything to come between you and me, even your picture. I am better off this way.

You might have forgotten that by caste, I am Kashmiri Butt and Kashmiris are bound to have fair complexion and chubbiness. I have never told you that since I started going to school, my class fellows used to make fun of me because of my weight. There favorite time pass was to call me “motta aalo(fat potato)”, “hathi(elephant)” and “majh”(buffalo) all the time. You know how I dealt with the situation? I stopped playing, stopped running, although I heartily wanted to but……just forget it. I remember that I never retaliated than; I never reported their behavior to any of my school teachers because once when I informed one of my teachers, she herself started laughing and laughing did nothing else. I can’t explain the level of embarrassment I had felt that day. I don’t even know what I was feeling was embarrassment, I just remember that I had tears in my eyes and red sweaty face. I didn’t even share those incidents at home, with my parents. You know why? Because my father used to detest me almost every day for not being a “mard” (man) enough along with for being a fat ass. He considered my obesity as the serving reason for every possible perversion on the face of the earth. He used to scrutinize my food, made me jog and run in parks but to no avail, my body declined to take any other form. I could not complain all this to anyone so the only comfort I had was crying and eating (yes eating at odd hours). I have always been a dull, idiotic, feminine, fat, good for nothing son of him. You know, I wanted him to at least like me for once, which if he had did once, I would have lost weight. My mother, a conventional obedient wife to her husband could never rescue me, could never understood me. Just never.

You know, whenever Maamo(maternal uncle) used to take me with him for shopping and couldn’t get the pants of my size, he used to laugh out with the shopkeepers. What I did to deal with the situation was stop shopping for myself and stop wearing ready-made pants and jeans. You know I so much loved wearing jeans. But forget it.

You know S! I don’t mind loosing weight or going to gym but the thing is that no one has never bothered enough to hold my hand and ask me for it. Everyone always mocked at me, made fun of me; no one never considered that this elephant also has a heart in his huge body which can feel and respond.

I still remember when I met Sonu very first time in my life at that restaurant; he looked at me and responded, “You are looking so disproportionate.” By God, I never felt so much guilty for being fat that day, in front of that restaurant. Time passes away; I don’t have him now, all I still have is my disproportionate body.

Than there was Fadi who used to say, he “really likes me.” And when we ended up in bed, just after that he said “Look, obesity cultivates several disease and medical problems, so get rid of it before it as soon as possible.” Than he kissed me and said, “But still I like you.” And I replied, “Thank you very much” and never saw his face ever again.

Than there was this guy Mary. He was quite a shy, introvert person and we developed quite a good understanding of each other after some time. One day I asked him to start relationship but he was quite hesitant. When I continued to inquire, he replied hesitantly, “You are really good. You have been a wonderful person and I haven’t met anyone like you. But if you wouldn’t be so much obese than I might have thought about you.”

S! I never thought that my chubbiness and obesity would be taken as a deadly sin. I have never discriminated people, at least who are dear and near to me on the basis of their appearances. But I think I should have told my school fellows that how tacky they looked with their flowing noses, and how much dumb and black they were. I should have made my school teacher aware of the fact that she got the ultimate talent of painting her face in the most weird and awful manner known to the world. I should have told my father that his own father used to consider him a complete jerk. I should have told Sonu that he looked like an anorexic dwarf who needs to donate himself to cartoonist for potential inspiration. I must have told Fadi that how much ugly, dark and hairy he was, giving him a look of the floor of a conventional barber’s shop. I must have told Mary that how badly he needed braces to keep is “outlawed” front teeth in control and how they made him more of a Dracula than a human.

I know S, you are truly a good person and you haven’t said that in any bad context but you see, when today, during chat when you suggested me, “Go to gym and loose weight” you just reminded me of all that what I have been gone through.

Regards
Hadi Hussain

Photo Courtesy: Sergio Roberto Bicahara

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Apology to Ahmedi Brethren


Doubtlessly, 28th May will be regarded as one of the most memorable days in the history of Pakistan. By the grace of Allah Almighty, we exploded six atomic bombs in the Chaghi Hills back in 1998 and now in 2010, we exploded and killed more than 100 Ahmedis praying in Masjids, oh sorry, in their worship places in Lahore. A really commendable achievement which has brought a huge round of applause from the whole world as we really know how to nip the evil in the bud before it blossoms, we are completely aware how to stab people who don’t agree with the majority. MashAllah, we are the true heirs of Islam who know how to keep the true spirit of Islam alive by blowing up every non-conformist and how to feel proud of it. This is our Jihad, this is our salvation, this is how we are going to end up in heaven and enjoy the promised package of 70 hoors, oh sorry 72 hoors, dying to be fucked by zealots of Islam.

Indeed such actions are committed by the Tailbans, terrorists or by intelligence agencies of our neighboring country (whom we most of the time don’t name, although it’s an open secret that it’s INDIA) but let me ask what the hell the government has been doing apart from unburdening itself from the responsibility towards its citizens and not admitting to the security lapse. I ask where has been the worthy government when anti-ahmedi banners were on displace at the Mall Road Lahore. What our respected politicians have been doing in the Khatam-e-Nabuwat (End of Prophethood) meetings and conferences with the bigwigs of Islam? Surely, they were not discussing how amazing and wonderful is the idea of having Muhammad (P.B.U.H) as the last prophet. It is obvious that such meetings and conferences are arranged to assemble resources and to pledge against Ahmedis, who supposedly do not consider Muhammad (P.B.U.H) as the last prophet and the presence of our politicians in such meetings clearly states their subscription to this ideology.

It is complete out of comprehension that how, the Muslims, are segregating other Muslims from the mainstream just because of certain differences. I cannot understand how they can act as a yardstick to everyone such a personal matter. In addition, who has given this right of declaring anyone Muslim or non-Muslim. I remember that Hadith from my school days which describes an incident of a war in which Muslim fighters killed some Kauffars(infidels) who were saying that they have converted to Islam. When this case came to Muhammd (P.B.U.H), his face turned red with rage and he said that, they should not be killed if they were claiming to be Muslims. Also, the last verse from the chapter Al-Kafiroun of the Quran which states, “To you be your religion, and to me be mine”. If these are the clear directions of our most prestigious and valuable religious texts than why we are not adhering to them? This religious hypocrisy within us is evident to the impetus that we select those guidelines that cater our interests. Just like Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, who declared Ahmedis non-Muslims through second amendment in 1974 to safeguard his political interests. Followed by General Zia ul Haq(read Zia ul Fuck, because that’s what he has done to our whole country and to the generations to come) who barred Ahmedis from calling themselves Muslims, calling for Azan(prayer call) and naming their worship places Masjids. I mean there wouldn’t be another example in the world history where a country has ostracized its own citizens in such a blatant and inhuman way, legally.


I was reading an article by Yasser Latif Hamadani in which he quoted that in 1944, when a group of Muslim divines approached Jinnah to persuade him unsuccessfully to turn all Ahmedis out of the Muslim League; he responded by saying, “Who am I to declare non-Muslim a person who calls himself a Muslim?” If that was the way, the Father of the Nation dealt with it than why we end up being so bigoted and insane.

This whole incident has made me an emotional and psychological wreck. I could not concentrate for days after it. So, let me hear that it is a matter of immense guilt, shame and regret not only for me but also for every conscientious citizen of Pakistan who believe in the sanctity of human life. I have never been so much ashamed of being a Muslim in my whole life before. Being a minority myself, I can understand how it feel to be a minority and what are threats and risks attached to it. This incident clearly indicate that whoever has issues with Ahmedis being Muslims and worshiping in Masjids will definitely have issues with the Muslim queers, calling themselves Muslims and praying in Masjids. Also, I was put off by the reaction of a few so-called en-lighted human rights activists who disapproved of my solidarity for the community. Because they think, they are non-Muslims who need to be disciplined.

I know, I am unable to understand the level of pain and suffering Ahmedi community has experienced in this atrocious event and I can’t even pay back for all those tears they have shed for their dear ones. I am also aware of the fact that at times how shallow it looks to say Sorry but that's all i am left with. I apologize for whatever happened. I am sorry for all that has been done to you people since last 121 years and still years to come. I know you are hurt and so am I and let us hope that together we can and we will bring a change some day.

Photo Courtesy: Bystander Effect by Iwan Beijes

Thursday, June 10, 2010

I am Top


In accordance with the binary rules of our sub-culture,
“I am a top”.
I am a top because I screw
because I pay
because I don't do all those
"girlie" things which are considered
more abominable for me than seven deadly sins.
I am a top,
I can't cry my heart out
can't sit cross-legged
can't drag
can't gossip
can't be loud and proud
can't even laugh my mind out
And if I dare do all this stuff
then I’ll be a "Baji."
Tops are strong.
Tops are macho.
Tops are tough.
They never get emotional.
Can never get hurt.
Always remain happy and enjoy.
That's what expected of me.
That's what I end up being
a top........
After challenging the heteronormative
codes of conduct, I have to conform to 'gay codes',
gay prototypes-
Where we have only
tops and bottoms
plugs and sockets
Mards and Bajis.
There's not a single gay and gay only.
Just hetero wannabes.....

[Baji: A slang for gay (effeminate one mostly); Mard: A macho man]

(This poem has been published in May 2010 issue of Gaylaxy magazine).
Photo Courtesy: Abstract Shape by Ivan Prole

And it Continues....

“Between 1933-45, an estimated 100,000 men were arrested as homosexuals in Germany, of which some 50,000 were officially sentenced. Most of these men served time in regular prisons, and an estimated 5,000 to 15,000 of those sentenced were incarcerated in concentration camps. It is unclear how many of the 5,000 to 15,000 eventually perished in the camps, but leading scholar Ruediger Lautman believes that the death rate of homosexuals in concentration camps may have been as high as 60%.”
“March 2000, Hamid Nastoh, 14, committed suicide after being continuously bullied by his school fellows for being gay.”
“May 2001, 52 gay men were arrested on the Queen Boat; a night-club in a boat moored on the Nile, Egypt and was charged with "habitual debauchery" and "contempt of religion." 23 among them faced prison sentences of between one and five years of hard labour. During detention, many were sexually abused by the police.”
“August 2009, a 26-year-old man and a 17-year-old girl were killed and at least 15 received injuries, when an unknown person opened fire on the crow attending Israeli Gay Youth (IGY) event at Tel Aviv branch of the Israeli GLBT Association.”
“April 2010, Dr Shrinivas Ramchandra Siras, 62, was found dead in his apartment. He has been suspended from his job as Chairperson of Modern Languages at Aligarh University, India; on “moral grounds” after students broke in to his place and filmed him with his partner.”
These are just a few vivid excerpts of the blatant display of bestiality, violence and discrimination of heteronormative society against sexual minorities. The very society which considers itself the only legitimate heir of morality and wisdom. Which is so judgmental, so much bigoted and uncompromising in its structure and options that it never allows anything or anyone with a difference?
I always used to wonder and think over the beautiful creations of the nature been found in abundance. Look at the variety of exotic variety of landscapes, the countless types and kinds of flora and fauna or look at the crown of creation, the humans for that matter. There are so many variations in their faces, hairs, emotions, behaviors, thinking patterns that one cannot 100% predict them and most importantly we accept and respect this diversity whole heartedly without making hue and cry. But it’s so paradoxical that when it comes to the sexual orientation, people become skeptical about the very nature who itself favours and creates diversity. I question all those strong headed individuals minds to just think how come nature in incapable of creating diversity only in this department?
What gays are usually called in the sub-continent, homos, chakka, baji, khusri, fags, perverts, sinners…….? That’s all the heteronormative society offers to them. That’s the price they have to pay for being different. They are questioned, they are discriminated, they are ridiculed, they are assaulted, they are raped, and they are murdered only for being different. The society might be happy with them if they remain closeted, get married, have kids and leads a straight life taking them to promised heaven!!! They just want to live in their bubble with their pigeon syndrome.
These are the pre-setted rules and norms for any patriarchal society that it feel threatened and insecure about anything or anyone whose is going to challenge its existence, its gender roles and stereotypes. They think that there can’t be anything other than being a heterosexual, leading a straight life; man on woman action is the only rule of the game. So how anyone can think about a man on man or woman on woman action?
Moreover, homosexuality is viewed as a greater violation of the male gender role than the female gender role; that is, men are more likely than woman to be punished for being homosexual. Men must be assertive, dominating, aggressive, and emotionally inexpressive whereas women should be gentle, submissive, kind, communal and emotionally expressive is a universal prototype. And it’s that dominating role of man which is giving him right to control, direct and rule the world or the womenfolk for that matter. So if, there’s going to be a man on man action than who will be the dominating one and who will be ruled. This threat to the power structure of the heteronormative society is the root cause the homophobia. And to bring any substantial change, we as the responsible citizens of the society, who believe in and value human rights, must come forward and try to change this thinking pattern. Because it’s not a matter of any unknown homosexual, but of some one who is part of our society. He/she can be our brother/sister, son/daughter, uncle /aunt…just anyone.
I had a very endearing experience which I am just going to share with you all. Just a few days back, after my class on gender and sexuality, a student came to my office and said, “Sir! I have been observing you throughout the whole semester and the way you have been addressing the otherwise Hush, Hush issues regarding sexual orientation and queers, is simply stimulating. I googled you and come up with your articles and stuff regarding queer issues and I guess, I have come to know who you are.” I was a little startled at the way she was heading towards the great revelation. I responded “Writing something about any issue under the sun doesn’t claim anything for any writer apart from the critical appraisal.” But she seemed quite adamant in getting my word of mouth and so she said, “Sir! I used to think that if I’ll ever meet someone with different orientation, I will definitely discriminate him/her but now after observing you, having you around, reading your articles and poems, I have realized that how much wrong I was about my own self. I can’t discriminate you, I can’t hate you, I just simply can’t.” Even I have started respecting and loving you more than before and because of your patience with which you handle and digest homophobic comments from the class and most definitely from the society is simply awesome. Let me say that we the people of normal orientation aren’t normal and human enough because we simply lack that level of patience and tolerance which has been a hallmark of many people like you.You have sensitized me completely. ” I was literally on the verge of tears after all she was saying. “I was thinking about you for a few days now and I was wondering that how much you have been gone through in your life. It’s so hard, so difficult and so much painful indeed and I salute you for it.” I was leering at her with complete silence and was trying to hide my approaching tears. Now, after having you, last night, very first time in my life, I took my cousin’s different attitude a cute thing rather than a weird, obnoxious state of affair.” I smiled and only managed to say this, “Thank you so very much, for accepting me for who I am. Thank you.” And she left the room with wet eyes and a smile on her face which insured me that there will be some day when none any queer will be discriminated on the face of this earth. And I hope and pray that it will happen soon.

(Dedicated to Harib Ali for his undying spirit. This article has been published in May 2010 issue of Gaylaxy magazine)

Obsessive hoarder


It’s a part of human nature to develop associations pertaining to their individual preferences and tastes. One just cannot simply chalk out a well-tailored catalogue of associations, but there are certain general trends of forming associations. Some people feel associated with the place they were born, some with their schools or colleges, some with their professions and a few with their friends. After some time when one comes out of the direct influence of one’s associations, one is only left with memories. Based on associations, memories provide opportunities to relive those times which made one smile or cry. When one can afford to be a prototype of one’s own self, not of someone else one can indulge these fond associations and keep them closer in life. Memories are those golden tablets which encapsulates the odds and evens of our past life. After several moons, last night I managed to sneak out some time to relive my past. I opened the cabinets of my room where every important thing of my life resides. How paradoxical is the fact that I invested long tiring decades of my life to develop associations and to collect memories which now lie neglected in a few cabinets. It seems my whole past life is worth of being ‘cabinetnised’ and nothing more or less than that. These mementos are the measure of units of memories to me.

Books, greeting cards, pictures, stupid graffities, all, are my ticket to the amusement park of my memory which fascinates me, strengthens me and makes me feel good. I cried in my heart when I remember the times when I had laughed my heart out and I smile remembering the moments when I had cried.
I dragged out the big album of my family and friends, my most treasured possession where I can see and feel different occasions of my life; when I was a few months old; when I joined school; my school trips and hanging out with friends, everything was there visually present, shot in pictures. Every picture has its own story, language and moment.
Further I started rearranging the countless greeting cards of my family and friends. Every card makes me believe in dreams like Paulo Coelho with several reassurances of “Friends forever” and “Missing you”. All is gone and it seems to be the story of some bygone, extinct species of humanity who once lived.
I than turned towards my book cabinet and started rediscovering the lost meanings and idealism in all those books that fascinated me once. Life doesn’t leave me an idealist anymore, but still I liked the times when I was an idealist. My books are part of my idealistic self which I have buried years ago, but still I feel happy to recall that phase of myself. Because at this late hour of night, no one is around me, no one is demanding something practical or professionally from me, so I am alone with my lost, forgotten self, whom I can visit only through my memories as I am still an obsessive hoarder of memories.

Photo Courtesy: Little balls by Jason Aaberg