Like Water for Chocolates

Sweet vanilla mixed with sandalwood scents 
Kinks and coils kissing on your collarbone 
Soft moans 
I place kisses between heated up thighs 
And go deeper before you decide to change your mind 
I can change your heart and 
Rearrange the beads of sweat trickling beneath your right breast 
My fingertips trace circles around your Hershey kiss nipples
Im wrapped up in your pheromones 
High pitched tones 
Calling for every god 
You’re scratching up the walls
I grab your hands and pause long enough to place lip stick prints on your wrists 
Then I crash into you 
And get hot 
And boil over
And spill 
Splash 
Drip
Like water for chocolate 
Stir, blow, sip

Dear Drunk Girl

Because, dear drunk girl, I love you even when you don’t.

Dear Drunk Girl,

I see you everywhere.

I live in this college town, in the only owner-occupied house on a street of student rentals. I see you during Welcome Week, Saturday mornings when there’s a home football game, on St. Patrick’s Day and every Thursday, Friday and Saturday night.

You are at parties next door and across the street, stumbling up our hill in high heels at 3:27 a.m., and sitting on the curb crying and yelling into your cell. Often, I see you getting dropped off in the morning in last night’s party dress, heels in your hand and your hair a crazy mutation of the previous night’s carefully arranged “do.”

I have watched you play Strip Beer Pong on the porch, wearing nothing but a bra and jean shorts. I have heard you talking as you passed my house late at night, your words barely understandable (although very, very loud) and mostly about being “so fucking drunk.”

Don’t roll your eyes at me because I’m old enough to be your mother.

I drink, and I’m not a prude. I am familiar with the relaxing power of a Guinness or a gin and tonic, and I admit that I feel a little prettier, a little more entertaining at a party after a drink or two. I’ve also been really drunk, although not recently. I’ve felt my bed spinning, thrown up in a bar bathroom and woken up believing and wishing that I would die because everything hurt and the world was simultaneously too bright and impossibly fuzzy and muffled.

You are not judged. I’m worried about you.

I have a 16-year-old son, and while I worry about what could happen to him, from driving drunk to alcohol poisoning, he will never be vulnerable in the way that you are. It’s wrong, maybe, that we live in a society with that kind of inequality, but we do.

In a college town like this, there are people who show up on big drinking days looking for young women who are so drunk that they’re easy targets for assault. I didn’t make that up; a police officer described to me the number of calls he’s been on where a woman was left behind by her friends, and someone hurt her.

The officer, the father of two daughters, had tears in his eyes. He said it happens here every weekend.

The officer also made a remark about the way the victims tended to be dressed, which immediately made me furious. I called him on it, asking if he really believed that any woman was inviting assault by wearing revealing clothing. He said that he wasn’t being “political” with me (whatever that means) but that realistically, a man who is going to take advantage of a woman’s incapacity was not going to sit around thinking about whether her party outfit was an invitation to him, or to someone else.

I hate that this is true, I think you should be able to dress any way you like. Because you are young, and beautiful, and you should not have to cover up because some men are predatory or Neanderthal. You should be free, as free as any man on earth.

But.

Here’s the part of all of this that I really, really want you to remember: if you drink so much that your judgement is impaired, that you lose control of yourself, that you black out, you put yourself at risk. That is your choice, and nobody else’s. You live in this world, for better or worse, and with freedom comes responsibility.

Please don’t drink so much that when you break a heel, or stop to puke in the alley, your friends keep moving and leave you alone. When you are shitfaced drunk and isolated at 3:00 a.m. in an alley, you are not safe.

Please don’t drink so much that you hook up with guys you don’t really know, and might not even like very much when you’re sober. If you’re that drunk, it won’t be a great sexual experience anyway. Plus there’s all that disease and pregnancy stuff that could totally mess up your plans and stop your big, beautiful life in its tracks.

Please don’t drink so much that you call that guy you went out with twice, and ask him why he isn’t at the party, and if he’s with another girl, and then yell “you fucking asshole, I know you’re with her!” into your phone. And don’t take your top off in public. And don’t pass out in strange houses.

Because I also see you sober.

I see you everywhere. I see you walking to class in the morning, carrying your design portfolio or your chemistry notes. I see you marching in the band at the Homecoming parade, and coming home from soccer practice with your messy braid and your duffel full of cleats and shin guards. I talk to you about your plans to be teachers, to plan LEED certified buildings, and to move to D.C. and get your start in politics. I see you organizing “Take Back the Night” vigils, and carpooling to the Capitol to protest against injustice.

I know that you can be anything and everything, and I want to keep you safe so you can get where you’re going.

I’m somebody’s mom, and I’m part of the “village” that’s still raising you, even after you move away from home and off campus.

Because, dear drunk girl, I love you even when you don’t.

Affectionately,

That Lady on the Porch Across the Street

(Elephant Journal)www.elephantjournal.com

WILD LOVE

“I will remember the kisses
Our lips raw with love
And how you gave me everything you had
And I offered you what was left of me
And I will remember our small room
The feel of you
The light in the window
Morning coffee
Our noons our nights
Our bodies spilled together
Sleeping
The tiny flowing currents immediate and forever
Your leg my leg
Your arm my arm
Your smile and warmth of you
And how you always make an effort to make me smile”

The Beast Within

“I can love someone then break their heart
And I can save someone then rip them apart 
I can never be too good in this world
No one can blame me 
The past had tore me to pieces 
I tried to let it go but it’s haunting me
Gripping me and leaving marks too 
Guess the past is your present if you carry it with you 
With pain stuck in my chest
I pay care to no one 
Yet sometimes I see light 
But the darkness that wraps me is too tight 
Sometimes I feel it, I even hear it 
The beat of this thing called heart 
And it makes me smile 
But like lighting, the past comes 
Too fast for me to stop 
It invaded everything inside me, soul even tamed 
So the smile fades back 
But this light keeps seeping in 
And it made me feel emotions 
This light gives me wings, gives me pure intentions
But the darkness never leaves 
It shuts off the light 
It clenches my heart with every emotion I feel 
Now I’m back with nothing but anger in sight”

Is That Her 'FEMORAL ARTERY'

I met my lover late one night,

Stethoscope on my chest, BP cuff on my right,

And as he held my hand, on his resident’s command,

He summoned up all his might -

"I'm a doctor-in-training", he said,

Resting his body against my bed

"And is it too soon to make you swoon?

Because I know we've just met -

But you make my heart thump so hard

That cardiac arrest is on the cards,

Fast my blood flows for my soul knows

That true love has caught me off-guard.”

What was there to say but yes?

To a lack of experience he had confessed,

Yet I was fine with the nerdy pick up lines

Because for me adoration he had professed -

But he’s rare with actual compliments

Instead choosing to thank my ‘rents

For their chromosomes, their centrosomes

…I think good will was meant?

And even when he finds the right words

It sounds completely absurd

To hear “My dear, your telomeres

They have never faltered!”

All my girlfriends think I’m single

Because I never bring him out to mingle -

He works long hours, rarely showers,

And in small talk, the only lingual

Skills he has pertain to nerves of the tongue,

And if there’s pathology he has the lungs

To speak and speak for a more than a week,

As if other meddies he were among!

Surgery sets his heart on fire

More than my wanton desire,

Causing a fuss with his bloodlust

Whenever I want my body admired,

So when he’s making love to me,

I know he’s thinking of anatomy

Not what goes where, or how he fares,

But is that her femoral artery?

“Found it!” he cries instead of my name,

As if our activity is not a game

Of take-a-peek but hide-and-seek

Where physiology is the aim!

Still I know he’ll never cheat

Because he never has the time to meet

Another girl to take for a whirl,

And besides, I know I have them beat

With my ample mitochondria, cranial hypertrophy,

A million neurotransmitters and long phalanges -

Subcutaneous tissue, it’s never an issue;

So I’ll let him study our mutual biochemistry

Because he gives me atrial fibrillation,

Ventricular contractions and palpitations,

Every single date my muscles fasciculate,

Forever he’ll be my doctor, and I, his patient
.

[An old poem I had lying around. It never fails to amuse me.]

An Indian Girl's Response To India's Daughter

There are MANY (believe me, MANY) things that annoy me about the discussion about this documentary. The following are a few points I need to express after watching a lot of the news debates on the topic of bans and specifically the Nirbhaya documentary.

What I find the most IRONIC about the debate that is happening in our country is that policy makers, politicians and people in power who condemn the documentary HAVE NOT SEEN THE FILM AND AT THE MOST HAVE READ TRANSCRIPTS (e.g.: the BJP’s Shaina NC and Senior Advocate of the Supreme Court Dushyant Dave)

Secondly, the people as mentioned above believe that interviewing the rapist, Mukesh Singh provides him a platform to justify his actions. Let’s all not forget that this man is on death row. No matter what he choses to say, he will die. The point of interviewing him was to expose the SICK minds of these men and also to highlight the fact that EVEN REGULAR INDIAN MEN SOMETIMES SHARE THE SAME OPINIONS TO THOSE OF RAPISTS. Javed Akthar drove this point home VERY well in Parliament. Let us ALSO remember that the movie DID NOT GLORIFY THE RAPIST OR HIS OPINIONS. If you misinterpreted it that way YOU ARE SIMPLY WRONG AND DO NOT UNDERSTAND RHETORICAL FILMMAKING.

Some people at this point say that the film portrays ALL Indian men as rapists (sound familiar to that ‘not all men’ topic) and ALL Indian women as poor helpless victims. As a woman of this country I honestly AM afraid of MOST men in my country and their overbearing attitudes have FORCED women to become helpless. This is a Feminist issue, and WOMEN’S SAFETY should be at the forefront, not the reputation of men. If the men of India feel that they DO NOT think of women so poorly then they need to PROVE IT. There were 35 onlookers when Jyoti Singh and her friend were found naked and bleeding to death but ONLY ONE POLICEMAN helped. If the men of India had taken her to the hospital then maybe I wouldn’t be bringing this up at all. In india we teach women to AVOID rape rather than men not to rape. So I think Indian men have a poor reputation to begin with anyway.

Speaking of reputations, the Indian government claims that the documentary is an international conspiracy to defame India. This stems mostly due to the cause the Leslee Udwin is not Indian and that this is a BBC documentary. To this I would like to say, did ANYONE fight so hard to ban Danny Boyle’s Slumdog Millionaire? His movie (albeit based off a book) showed largely India’s slums, poverty, underworld and corrupt policemen. Did anyone think that that would defame India? Nope. Was Boyle Indian? Nope. In fact we CHEERED when the movie won an Oscar. India didn’t worry that post Slumdog, a LOT of people from the West viewed India simply as a country of slums. Then it didn’t matter. So why does it matter now…especially since this film is based on FACTS and not fiction.

What truly defames India is a regular ‘Let it go’ (“Chalta Hain”) attitude. Didn’t the security exposes post the 26/11 terror attacks defame India? Don’t ministers of parliament who watch PORN DURING ASSEMBLIES defame India? Don’t politicians who bribe and threaten their way to power defame India? There are MANY MANY MANY more things this country needs to worry about. If India wishes to be seen in a good light then the Government needs to STOP pushing things under the carpet in the form of bans and actually start changing the lifestyle of the average Indian. And just to be clear— the “western countries” the Government is so scared of already know that India is unsafe for women. Delhi has been nicknamed the RAPE CAPITAL OF INDIA. Isn’t THIS something we should be ashamed of?

Now regarding Censorship, a lot of people in power have said there is a limit to freedom of expression and that it is social responsibility. To that I say, you cannot have your cake and eat it too. Banning ANYTHING in India is undemocratic. You cannot claim to be an inclusive country and then impose a ban (this would apply to the idiotic beef ban as well). Also bans are futile because Youtube and Tumblr and Torrents exist. Any person with a cellphone and a data connection has access to these “banned” films. If you ban a documentary on rape and intend to “curb the internet” then I hope that popular WhatsApp video of a girl’s gang rape is ALSO banned because I don’t see anyone doing anything about that.

With censorship, I find hypocrisy. The Censor Board and Government claim that films like India’s Daughter will INCITE rape. Do these people really think the average Indian is THAT STUPID? If we were, then (like the ‘smoking is injurious to health’ warning Indians see EVERYWHERE) there should also be trigger warnings and violence warnings. News channels should stop reporting murder for fear that it will INCITE people into committing murder. Shouldn’t item numbers THAT REGULARLY OBJECTIFY WOMEN also carry warnings as well?

On the other hand I DO AGREE with those who say the NAME of the documentary is problematic. For a film that aims at empowering women, the name India’s Daughter only puts India’s girls into another tighter box. The only way to feel empathetic for her is to find some relation to her like a sister, wife, mother or daughter instead of viewing her as an individual W O M A N. However, this is a very small pitfall in comparison to the other points I mentioned above.

In conclusion, what I worry about here is not just the horrifying situation of women’s safety in India but also the attitude of our government to these topics. On one hand we want to uplift women but are in fact shutting them down. I don’t need to go into detail and enumerate the number of politicians who have all preached that Indian women who do so and so, or wear so and so should be kept at home or worse, raped and punished.

It is alright for someone to not enjoy the film or have their opinion about it— but a healthy discussion (which is what India lacks) is not possible if no one has SEEN the film…and this applies to any topic.

The ban on India’s Daughter needs to be lifted and the Nirbhaya story discussed. It has been the push India needed to start a powerful protest movement, not unlike those of Ferguson and Je Suis Charlie. Moreover it is the hot iron rod India needs to push her into FINALLY taking action and bettering the safety for women. After all, how can I be a well informed, empowered woman if I’m made to sit at home and have a blindfold over my eyes?
#nirbhaya #documentary #India'sdaughter#Delhigangrape

THE ONE

When you find him you will find he is not 'the one', that there is no 'one',
But that together you are two. With him you will find you have the freedom to be who you truly are and still you will hold the place for the person you may yet become.
He will love you upfront and coax you from a distance.
He will stand up to your defiant ways and will not back down when your forceful fire is ignited.
He has his own strong sense of identity that may more than match yours and he will probably achieve more with his calmer, quieter more consistent demeanour than you may with your somewhat chaotic, more charged responses.
When you find him you will feel that he does not complete you. Cannot fix you. Nor is he meant to. Instead he will add to the marvels that already exist inside you. He cannot give you what you are only meant to give yourself. Self worth. Self respect. Self honor.

You will find that he too is flawed. Human.

When you find him, you will want to cling to him when the dark hours descend around you. When the long nights tell their tales of hurt and hunger. You will see the changing expressions on his face when he tries to understand, then comfort, then stay solidarity by your side.

You will know pain, loss, anger and hurt just as you did before, yet when you find him you will find too that the biggest part of these strives is less somehow. Their terror is deflected somewhat by the shield that your unity brings.

You will sleep easier knowing that he is there next to you. Knowing that under each of your casing lie two souls that found their way home, even when the road was long and so very lonely.

Say it out LOUD

One of the major problems we face today, is narrow mindedness-being uncomfortable and afraid to speak about certain topics. It limits our growth. I still see parents changing the television channel instantly a commercial of most potent birth control measure is aired-condoms. Or people being afraid to accept their sexual orientations because the society is fucking judgemental. “Hey society! They are ‘people’ okay. And it’s their damn choice”
We need to speak loudly and boldly if we wish to see a change. Its 21st century! We should live in a world where we can say, “Transgender,sex,gay,abortion!” Out loud and without hesitation or shame.
I will not accept the company of people who are racist, homophobic or sexist.
I will accompany those who believe all of the said things are extensions of ignorance and fear. So that I have something to learn from everyone whom I choose to be around who know how to live without fear.

Duty to our children

Saw this quote and photo. Had to share
“It's not our job to toughen our children up to face a cruel and heartless world. It's our job to raise children who will make the world a little less cruel and heartless.” 
― L.R. Knost