I think this may be my final post to this blog. I have arrived back in the place from which I set out – Leeds, another home. I have cried every day since being back (four days). I did not expect my heart to break like this, but alas, I guess that is the price…
AN ODE TO THE TRAFFIC
It bears writing a final note on the traffic since it has been one of the standout features of Lahore, perhaps one of the things I will miss most, oddly. I love the normal rickshaws, obviously, but the 10-rupees are my favourite – sitting in the road, seatbeltless, part of everything, swallowing the dusty air….
TRANSGRESSIVE LOVE
i believe all love has the potential to be transgressive. i’ve been thinking about how if LGBTQ relationships can be normative (eg conform to mainstream ideas of gender, partnership, capitalist consumption, domesticity, legality, marriage etc) then in the same way surely heteronormative or non-romantic/non-sexual relationships can be non-normative in many cases (non-normative as in transgressing…
VISITING MY NANI’S BIRTHPLACE: IF HOME IS WHERE THE HEART IS…
this week i had the special and blessed privilege to visit the town in which my nani was born. on the way back i found myself turning the phrase, “home is where the heart is”, over in my mind… what happens if your heart is able to break into little pieces that plant themselves in…
RE: LOVING WORDLESSLY
twelve days since I massaged massi’s legs and we said we loved eachother, we now sit in reverse: my naked calves in her naked hands i laugh-ask her if she thinks i need a pedicure – knowing the answer – knowing the love. she says, you’re beautiful in Punjabi that sounds fiercely honest that breaks my…
“YOU SHOULD GET A PEDICURE”
[nani]: she got bitten loads on her ankles (pointing to my ankles) [the unexpected neighbour]: … you should get a pedicure (to me) [me]: … ha… yeah… I guess that’s not really my vibe (or roughly, in Punjabi) [the unexpected neighbour]: (makes shocked face that looks simultaneously aghast and deeply hurt) [me]: (tries to laugh…)…
DRESSING LIKE EVERYTHING BUT A ‘GIRL’
nani says i dress like a buddi (old woman), they call me buddi jaan sometimes and berate me for not wearing more youthful (colourful? vibrant? accessorised?) outfits. massi says i look pindi (from the village) because i wear my dupatta more like her, here, than a hijab like i do at home. they both say i wear my shalwar like…
