“I am Sorry Daddy for Being a Fat Fag”

Once upon a time, I was just a kid, a regular shy kid with average weight but then one day, things started to change. The magical words of some fairy godmother lost their way and struck me and I became fat and faggy. You see, people used to say that,fat and faggy. Daddy was the first one to come up and notice it and tried to control it. He never liked me though; he had several reasons not to like me. I talked faggy, I walked faggy, I looked fat, and I looked ugly. People didn’t like me and so he didn’t like me. You see! it was very important for him to see if people liked me or not.
I was girlie, that’s what people used to say to him and so one day he decided to make me a boi, a real boi, a man. He asked me to stop running after butterflies and plucking flowers and to start playing with boys, elder bois. “But daddy I love butterflies, I love flowers, they make me happy, they are so beautiful, so colourful. Look at them.” He didn’t even look at me, how he can look at them.
He was always ashamed of me, poor Daddy. I couldn’t run good enough to win any race. I couldn’t play cricket or fight with other boi, not as I was supposed to do.
“Daddy, I got second position, see my certificate.” He was looking at the boi who stood first. He didn’t look at my certificate. It didn’t have that golden medal imprint on it. I guess daddy like golden colour. He never talked to me about anything, just gave directions.
Daddy you remember those shopping sessions when I couldn’t get anything of my size. No jeans, no shorts, no tee-shirts for me then; I loved pink tee-shirts though but I couldn’t take them, they were girlie you see. I still remember the sarcastic smile of every shopkeeper who would come towards me with an inch tape to check my size and after it he would start laughing and so would you. How much embarrassing it was for you daddy? I am so sorry for it daddy.
Do you remember daddy that Pinky, (my sister), used to call me motta(fat), aalo (potato), maajh (cow). I guess she didn’t know that my name was “Hadi” even I forgot my name was Hadi. And then I became her “baji” (literally means elder sister but is also used to refer someone as gay). I guess you know that Pinky has been always very good at giving nicks, especially mine. Daddy she was just a little girl then you see, just a little girl and it’s good that you never confronted her for that. You were such a grown up man, Daddy.
Have I ever told you that my peers in school used to bully me, make fun of me, harass me for being fat, for being shy, for being gay. Daddy have I ever told you that I used to cry without a sound, only in tears in the school loo after my daily raging session. Have I ever told you that the senior students used to kiss me and try to get all snuggly with me even when I could see that was something weird?
I can recall all your sayings daddy, like don’t eat this, don’t eat that, run like a dog, don’t you hate your body, look at all the fat, look at your chest come breasts, look at your love handles, “Aren’t you ashamed of it”? I am sorry Daddy! I never told you that I was really ashamed of myself, of my body. I so much wanted to cut myself in to pieces and gift you the size you want. I so much wanted to drown myself in the most concentrated acid ever existed, to get all my body and soul dissolved in it. I want to bang my head with the wall so much that I wish to lose the consciousness of being fat and faggy. But I couldn’t do any such thing, look at my survival instinct daddy, won't you appreciate me for that? Look how rough and tough the son of yours, the son of shame of yours, has become.
I stopped making friend Daddy, I stopped playing daddy and all I continued was getting fat and fag. I am so sorry for that daddy, I am really very sorry. I have been such an embracement for you for every one. You see daddy, some people do say this to me, “Nae (No), you shouldn’t feel that way, you should be take positivity out of it.” Fuck man, fuck for making me say fuck, and then for not getting my point. Don’t portray the bloody clichés, I am not going to be carried away by these beautiful lies and shallow ‘feel good’ stuff.
You know daddy, it was Danny who tried to make me realise how beautiful and good I was. He must be an alien daddy, a freak daddy; he never bothered with my fats and fagginess. I still remember that Saturday night when after a get together, we were walking down the lane I saw the bus we had to catch and I just looked at him said, “Let’s run and catch it.” He was a bit shocked and reluctant but as I started chasing the bus with full reverence and juvenile fervour, he joined me in. We didn’t get that bus but I got a great deal inside me. I ran that day daddy, I ran without thinking that you or anybody else will be ashamed of me.
You know daddy, once I started hanging out with my queer folks, I realised how much this body, my body is a hurdle in getting me a nice guy. The folks used to advise me “Babe you are awesome, really handsome, just lose some weight and then you will be the talk of the town.” ‘Talk of the town’, what a wonderful title daddy, see! they are as much concerned about me as you were. I want to take this opportunity to send my apologies to them as well. I am sorry lovelies.
You know daddy recently somebody just said it in his flow, “I can’t be with someone who’s so fat that if I ‘ll poke my finger in him, it will go inside.” You know daddy what I did that day. As I got back and went to refreshen up myself, I put off my shirt and stood in front my bathroom mirror. I could see all my extra fats, my flabs, around my belly, around my love handles and my chest cum breasts. For all those years I have hated them, detested them every single day. But at that moment, very first time, I started caressing and kissing my flabs and said to them, “I love you all, I love you my flabs, my fat, I love you very much. What if nobody loves you, respect you? What if everybody hates you, dislike you and make your self-esteem go down? You are beautiful, you are part of me, I own you, I respect you, I love you immensely. I will appreciate you, I will love you the way nobody else will do. Just trust me, just give me a chance.” I continued to say all that for I don’t know how much time and during that I was having tears in my eyes. The tears of belongingness, of appreciation, of love, of care, of overriding a history of shame and guilt, of resurrected pride. It was extremely cathartic and so was the text Phunk send me a few days back, “You are real, that’s why you are beautiful.”

(Image Courtesy: Jesse Therrien)