31.12.2023

It is already the last post of 2023! Happy New Year to my readers. You are a very regular bunch. You have followed me throughout the difficult last few months of the year, you read my observations about art, society and everything. You commit to reading my posts – some of you were even reading me on Christmas and today, some of the busiest times of the year! Thank you for following me and my thoughts.

Today’s highlight (aside from giving a tour at work and getting the applause at the end) was buying some bottles for an after-work celebration and then watching everyone drink them. It felt really good to toast my good friends there. I think of almost everyone I work with as my friend (some people just don’t make it to friend level, unfortunately, but that is a rarity and not through lack of trying on my part). Just to give them that little moment made me really happy.

I went to volunteering afterwards and worked on Indian art in museums. Which felt good too. Because I was promoting my own culture, Indian culture. I met someone new there who worked in animation and we had a good conversation. Volunteering rewards you like that. My boss cooked dinner for us like he almost always does. It was nice eating with everyone – they are all my friends too.

When I got home, I applied to be a remote writer and researcher for another volunteering place. All a writer looks for in life is the next opportunity and the readership. It is not about the money. It is not about the status. It is about the love of writing and conveying your thoughts to people. I don’t need power and influence. All I want is to make someone think about what I am writing and feeling and thinking. And the dream is for someone to fall in love with me through my writing. Just one person. That’s who I write for in reality. Don’t get me wrong – I want a big readership. I would like to have a say. I would like to shape things. But at the end of the day, writing is about love, for love, in the hope of love.

The celebration of the New Year was watching an Indian singing contest with contestants from real life with my parents in Hindi. Spending some time with the person who loves me the most in the world – my mother.

So, this year’s New Year’s Resolution? To go out and meet people. I will force myself to do it now. I don’t want to. But now, I will.

My wish for the New Year is that this world becomes less selfish and more caring.

30.12.2023

General Information:

https://www.npg.org.uk/whatson/exhibitions/2023/taylor-wessing-photo-portrait-prize-2023/prize-winners

Some of the Photographs:

https://www.npg.org.uk/whatson/exhibitions/2023/taylor-wessing-photo-portrait-prize-2023/exhibitors

In this short piece of writing (I write such pieces to share art and culture and to keep in practice), I want to focus on some of the photographs I found interesting in the exhibition. Why the photographic portrait? I did my doctoral thesis on the relationship between the law and the photographic portrait in Victorian fiction. I have spent years thinking about photography and because my thesis was published as an academically successful book, I guess that makes me an expert. So, onto the list, in no particular order. And the reasons why I thought the images were interesting and worth talking about.

The Wrestlers by Prarthna Singh (from the series Champion)

A female wrestler holding up another wrestler across her shoulders so we see buttocks next to her face. It is like one of those old hunting photographs displaying the prize. Formally, there is the repetition of red between the two women on their clothing, so we are looking at similarities and patterning. The woman wrestler stares into the camera intensely. The earth is barren, like a traditional Indian wrestling site. But the woman wrestler’s face is between the trees in the background, suggesting a connection with nature and growth or even that nature and womanhood can flourish despite adversity.

The context is that these women wrestlers are fighting in Indian states known for high rates of crimes against women, female infanticide and child-marriage. As the curator label says, they are becoming what we call ‘strong women’ in traditionally male dominated spaces and challenging accepted representations of femininity with their powerful bodies.

My comment: What the curator label doesn’t mention is the Hindi smash hit film ‘Dangal’ which preceded these images. This was about how a man who had to give up wrestling to make money trained his two daughters to become wrestling champions with a pro-feminist message thrown in. However, Dangal was about the Father and patriarchy – it was the father’s wish that his daughters became wrestling champions and like men (traditional male wrestlers). Here, although the photograph is powerful as the representation of a woman fighter, can we really see these images as resistance against the patriarchy? Such photographs are probably inspired by the ethos of Dangal and, actually, the patriarchal Indian state is hell-bent on destroying the traditional, rural Indian way of life so that women join the economy as earners and India can compete on the global economic stage. When you forget the money situation, you forget everything. Interesting merely as an exposure of the fictions of ‘independence’ and ‘feminism’ in the Western mindset and which pander to the Western lip-service of these themes without looking at the actual reality behind what is being portrayed here and why.

Mum’s Engagement Dress by Cara Price from the series Her Possessions

A woman lies face down on a bed in a blue dress. Her face is angled into the corner of the room, her back is exposed, we can only see one eye. A bedside drawer frames the head. Light falls across her arm.

The context is that the woman lost her mother to breast cancer as a fifteen year old and wears her mother’s clothes so that she can explore the feelings of ‘absence and longing, revisiting memories and seeking closure’.

My comment: F-ing weird. Wearing a dress so that, in some sense, you become the woman that your father proposed to. Oedipal. And why is half of the face hidden? What is there to hide? Is it the Oedipal side of things? If sexuality isn’t the theme, why is the woman on a bed? That’s where the act happens. As Freud observed, the Oedipal aspects of the self are everywhere in Western culture in a very obvious kind of way. Could you get more obvious than this? And yet, no one is going to notice it. The beautiful observations of the people in this culture that can never see anything, know anything, recognise anything, analyse anything, say anything…

Ibu by Byron Mohammad Hamzah from the series Yang Tinggal Hanya Kita (All That Is Left Is Us)

A woman with an enigmatic, serious face stands in a full figure shot, encased in a cream gown with a cream head covering in a proud assertion of Muslim identity and womanhood. The arms seem to be – underneath the clothes, folded across the chest in a classic posture of rejection, defence.

The context is that the photographer abandoned his mother to move into a Western country despite her wishes. She knew that his values would change, that he would abandon his culture, that he would no longer be her real son.

My comment: Pretty shameless and exploitative shot of this mother by the son that betrayed her love and abandoned his culture (for what? Money? ‘Independence’?). However, in the shot, despite the photographer, the mother becomes iconic, powerful, beautiful. The figure of resistance against everything that Western modernity and its seduction of the power-hungry becomes. The more you look at her, the more you are impressed by her. It reminds me of the story of Sri Devi and Jurassic Park. Sri Devi was the Queen of Indian cinema. Steven Spielberg – the top director at the time – the most famous – approached her to be in the movie. He offered her a piddling little role. She refused. Because why would the Queen condescend to have a little bit part in a Western movie when at home in India, she ruled? She had self-respect. This is what the Queen is chosen for – self-respect and honour. The photographer’s mother in this photograph has self-respect and honour. And so much of it that she is an inspiration for difference against power. Jai Mata Di! (Praise the Mother [Goddess]!)

Grandad Sups his Tea by Thomas Duffield

An old man whose eyes we can’t see is against a dark background drinking tea from which steam curls up. There is a subtle power in the way that he is represented, something kingly about him. Perhaps it is the perfect ease, the perfect repose.

The context is that the photographer was raised by his grandfather, like I was raised by my grandfather too, as he was at home.

My comment: It was my grandfather that I looked up to and that I wanted to be like more than anything, the wise man, the community man, the pioneer, the athlete. Something of that emotion of looking up is caught here by the photographer.

Roy and Josef with their daughter Jude by Rona Bar and Ofek Avshalom from the series Us

A beautiful shot of a cute baby amongst a homosexual couple in Israel. They are heavily tatooed, so the appearance of the unmarked child’s body forms a strong contrast with the suggestion of being ‘a blank slate’. Black and white dominate the colour scheme, the black of the man-made and the white of the natural body.

The context is that the photographer photographed couples in their homes that had been overlooked by the mainstream media.

My comment: If you come from my culture and background, a blank slate is precisely what you see children as. Someone to begin with afresh, someone full of potential, someone who is going to learn and become filled with writing and images. Without those blank slates, there would no longer be any reason to live. They are the future. The most beautiful thing about the photograph is those eyes of the baby Jude, full of life and the keenness of curiosity, the wish to learn…

A moment’s pause by Frankie Mills from the series Good Evening We Are From Ukraine

A child in the liminal space between water and land – almost in a swimming pool. An air of uncertainty, the body caught between two differing spaces and states. He is on the stairs (Freud says this would suggest something about sex – but he often says that…) The stairs introduce the idea of up and down: will he go down into the water? Or will he stay up (does this suggest something about the trajectory of life and success?) The boy is framed by beautiful flowers in the background, a big bush of them. He appears against the beauty of nature, a reminder that the apparently serene state and stillness of of nature is contrasting with his uncertain stillness in this moment trapped in time and hesitation…

The context is that the photographer photographed the people of Ukraine that had fled the country for refuge after the Russian invasion. He writes: ‘Artem’s hesitation made me think of every other moment his family had stopped to make impossible decisions during their journey from Ukraine’.

My comment: Swimming is my favourite activity in the whole world (aside from one other…) One of the most beautiful experiences imaginable. However, every time, just before I would get into the pool, I would hesitate. Because I hate cold water. Here, when this teenager looks unusually apprehensive, it becomes about the plight of refugees across the whole world. However, what if he is just apprehensive about getting cold and wet in the water? The photograph makes me think of the difference between an internal state of mind that we experience and what the world understands about it, how it makes it into the Symbolic (Jacques Lacan – the symbolic and the real, etc.) This is not to say that the apprehension does not have a link to the refugee status of the teenager – it is merely to suggest the gulf between inner experience and its expression in the world, a world with its own rules of meaning and politics…

On Tinder for ages with white-dominated people. Only likes from ethnic minority women (one single exception – a single mother with a PhD – 2 likes from Indian women on Christmas Eve just because I am Indian). On an Asian dating website for one week – already a message from an Indian woman. No one can tell me that this world that we live in isn’t dominated by racism against Indian descent men. These women here think they are superior to you just because they have white skin or act white. It is not just my experience. Where are all the good looking Indian actors and singers in this country? Why has no one made it? They don’t think we are desirable. It doesn’t matter what we look like or our personalities. Whoever said love is blind is a liar.

Bad luck strikes again. You know that Romeo and Juliet are the star crossed lovers. All I have in my life is bad luck. Luck is a big factor. A very big factor in these things. Do you know that I used to read a palmistry book that the family had when I was a kid? According to that book, the love line on my palm just says bad luck in my love life throughout my whole life. Palmistry might not be true, but the reality is true. All I have is bad luck.

I had an in depth conversation with an Asian (i.e. from India or surrounding regions ethnically) woman today. They are the ones that usually understand you the most and the ones that don’t judge you and are open and honest with you from the moment that they meet you. Because you are one of them. As I said, all my friends at university were Indian women.

Ego trajectory today:

1.Couldn’t talk to someone. Sadness. Frustration. Low ego.
2.Found out that one candidate is gone. Sadness. Even lower ego.
3.The boss bought me dinner and ate with me. Ego went up a bit because I was being looked after by someone I like, get on well with and look up to.
4.Got a message on an Asian singles dating site. Ego went up a bit more.
5.Saw who messaged. Ego went low again. Because it only matters if they are interested if I am interested in them.

It is okay to feel sad sometimes. Why not admit it? I haven’t been doing that good over the past few months. It has been three disappointments in a row, with one really big one. One day, I was sitting on the Tube. The guy next to me had a medical note with symptoms on the sheet excusing him from work. I read the checklist and I was suffering from all the symptoms for the past few months. But because I have a strong work ethic, I didn’t take any time off from work. I just put up with it. But it has been five days in a row with breakfast in the morning now, so things should hopefully be getting back on track. And the New Year is coming up. So it is time to try and get everything in order. People are expecting a lot of things from me and I expect a lot from myself. I can’t let my one main problem in life change everything. I keep on saying the same thing. It is go time. Even though I am not getting the one thing I want out of work – to meet someone – I still have to keep on going. Because I have to be the provider in any and every situation if I meet someone or even if I don’t and have to start a family without a woman. The carrot that is in front of this stupid donkey is invisible and isn’t even there, but the donkey has to keep on going, however sour the taste is in his mouth and however much he just wants to lie in bed in the morning and never get up ever again to have to go back into this dirty, disgusting world and the people in it.

I don’t understand women and their friendliness. Someone was really pleased when I complimented them (rare for me to do because in the past some women haven’t liked it when I did it). The complimented me back. They were going out of their way to be super friendly to me online and in person. Asked me when they would see me next. But that person is seeing someone. It is the same with someone else that I know. Super friendly but seeing someone else. I don’t understand women and their friendliness. The signs that they are into you and the signs of friendliness are all exactly the same. How are you supposed to figure out what is happening and whether you can do anything about it? If anyone else is in the equation, of course, I will never do anything, so there is no problem. I am talking about how you are supposed to position yourself and actually find out what is going on. Everything is confusion with desirable women. Sometimes I just think that I should give up on meeting someone in real life and just go to events and meet new people that you don’t even know anything about and have literally no feelings for. Never even talk to anyone that you are attracted to in real life. I hate the situations I am in.

28.12.2023

In the morning, I managed to get up with enough time for a very quick breakfast. I was going to go for some cereal (this isn’t my usual breakfast), but then I spotted some chocolate cake. So, I had chocolate cake and cream to start the day. Probably every kid’s dream, right? And, at the end of the day, I had more chocolate cake with cream for dessert. You’re probably thinking, isn’t that unhealthy? I can literally eat anything and any amount and I don’t put on weight. I am still super fit and strong always. I never really get sick. So how bad can it be for me? I am trying to put on weight anyway (that’s not working though). And that chocolate? It makes me feel good, so any unhealthiness is compensated for by the good hormones kicking off in my body and mind (chocolate for love).

I got back home about an hour ago from spending some time with my friend at work and her brother. I’ve known her for about a year now, but because we were outside work and I could relax properly, I was able to learn a few more details about her. I like her because she is open and honest and because of that, I can relax around her.

Actually, most of my friends are women. It is quite rare for me to have really good male friends. The reason is because I spent most of my childhood talking to my mother rather than anyone else. So I am just used to talking to a woman. And also, because I didn’t have any girls or women in my life outside the family until I was about sixteen. So – even to this day – every time I see a woman, it is like seeing an alien, someone from a different planet, someone rare and exotic. So the interest builds. It’s a combination of familiarity and unfamiliarity, the heimlich and the unheimlich (the canny and the uncanny), if you are a good Freudian. When you talk to these women that are your friends, they are completely honest with you and don’t hide anything from you. It is just conversation on a different level. Because they are my friends, I don’t judge them (why would I? I am not trying to go out with them and work out if they are right for me. Judgement is for if you want to start a family with them, because you either have to approve or disapprove of the way they are for that). The only thing that matters is that they are nice to you and have time for you, so you know you mean something to them. And that is enough for friendship.

You know what the problem is with falling in love with someone that is completely different to you, someone from the enemy camp? Someone with an entirely different outlook on life, someone who thinks differently about everything from you? Someone who doesn’t agree with your type of life? And you don’t agree with theirs? The problem with falling in love with difference? The problem is that when you both dig your heels in for your kind of life, there can be no compromise possible. There’s no solution. As Indian people say, the secret to a relationship is compromise. How can you compromise on a real issue that divides you? Everyone that is an an inter-cultural relationship says it is hard. Because you get insurmountable issues that you can’t compromise on. Just a thought. So this is why it is practically best to love someone that is the same as you.

But what if you’ve never met someone that is the same as you your entire life outside of your family? This is not just a theoretical point. I have never met anyone that is the same as me. I have been raised in the ethos and ways of living from the 1940s. The time of Indian Independence. I have been raised strictly in the village ways, in the morality of the poor. Everyone in this country is Westernised. I will never meet someone raised like me. The only thing that is in my life is going to be cultural isolation. Looking at other people and knowing that they are all different to you, whatever they are and wherever they are from.

In life, you only have one set of people that are the same as you. The parents that raised you to be like them. The family. The one place where you can actually be yourself and be accepted and loved for that. The one person you have in life is your mother. And this world? This world wants to separate you from your mother. For what? So you can live the isolated, atomised life of someone else, someone not Indian, so you can get their contempt and resentment because they don’t treat you like a white person and a British person and will never accept you or love you. It’s not a deal that anyone with any wisdom, integrity and self-respect would ever take.

27.12.2023

Some letters from my typography project over the past few days:

I heard some ‘independent’ women talking about ‘independence’. It’s not independence. Your parents raise you from when you were a baby. They love you, they feed you, they teach you. They look after you, they nurse you. They protect you. You can’t ever repay what they did for you, but you can look after them when they are old so they feel secure and happy. It is not much to ask for. You are just giving them a little of what they gave you. It is balance and fairness.

And this so-called ‘independence’ that these people are after? You either have to live with flatmates that you don’t even know and that aren’t related to you, that you can’t even trust with anything major. And you have to work like a slave in a job and there’s no way to escape. I live with my parents and I can do whatever I want whenever I feel like it. I could just quit my job just like that. It wouldn’t affect me. I live with people that would die for me and do anything for me. That is what is real independence. Who’s going to stop me doing what I want? If I agree and compromise, it is because I feel like it. And if I don’t feel like it, I don’t do it.

You know, Kafka lived in his father’s house too. Who is the greatest writer of the Twentieth Century? Kafka. What have all these ‘Miss Independences’ done with their lives? What is their contribution? They do nothing with their independence. With my independence, I volunteer at three different places while I work seven days a week and I also study Art History in the mornings and the evenings. At one of these places, the project is to save the planet and all life in it. I organise all the social events at work in my spare time to make it into a real community. I support my friend who is not well through long phone calls or my other friends who have problems. I learn languages, I meet up with my friends, I teach my nephew. I write books, articles, social media posts. I live a full life of contribution and meaningful work. And Miss Independence, what does she do with this independence that she is so proud of? If someone can give up on their family, what can you actually expect of them? They are not family people. They are not socially committed people. They are just ‘independent’. The isolationism, individualism and selfishness of this society is its major problem.

You think you can escape from the issues in your family by running away from them? Family is something that you can’t choose. They are going to be in your life. If you can’t stay and fight within the family, what are you going to do outside the family? I can understand leaving for money and opportunities. That is different. People do that to achieve their responsibilities to their family, not to get away from them.

I walked down to the Marks and Spencer’s to see what clothes they had in their sale. It was a big disappointment going over there. They didn’t have anything that I wanted in my size and there wasn’t anything actually all that nice except for some shirts with some silk alloy fabric (but I have enough shirts already). Well, it is all for the best. I don’t have space in my wardrobe really anyway.

I had dinner at a local Peri-Peri chicken place. There was an argument between the customer and the staff in front of me because he couldn’t talk properly even though he was from here (son of Indian immigrants probably) and they couldn’t hear what he had said over the phone because they couldn’t speak English very well (they were also Indian immigrants). I thought that this is what life is – nobody can talk with anyone properly. They can’t have honest and direct conversations with each other. Everyone lies and hides things all the time. They live in fear like cowards. They would rather wreck their own lives and those of others through silence and avoidance without speaking. And if you ever try to get an honest and open answer, what do you get? You get lies.

26.12.2023

Here are the flowers I bought myself and my mother for Christmas:

Nobody can separate me from my mother. Whether through love or through death. That is how it is. And because of that, I can watch people going out of my life, no matter what they mean to me. I will watch them walk away. She was there first. In my world, she is the Queen. My life I can give her – what else do I have? The only way that I can be cut away from her is if she throws me out of the house. And she would never do that.

I managed to get in a full exercise routine and then a full breakfast again in the morning. People keep on telling me that I look so thin. It is time to put on the weight again and to ensure a breakfast every morning. No waking up late, no missing the meal. Time to get back into perfect health.

However, I did stand before the full length mirror in my bedroom fully naked and looked at myself. How many years has it been since I have done that? All there is is muscle. The body of a farmer. The body of a serf. The body of a Punjabi man. The body of the tiger. No Photoshop. No flattering lighting. And still, I look like a god from an ancient Greek sculpture. That is genes for you. That is my inheritance from my people, from my athlete grandfather.

I went down to Central London. I was disappointed in that Marks and Spencer’s and W H Smith’s were closed. I will have to go tomorrow after work when I have less leisure to browse. However, I did shop at the women’s stores and bought some women’s suits for myself. Why? Because they are in bright colours and if I bought those bright colours in a men’s store, they would have charged me double the price. So now, I have a red one, a pink one and a green one. This is the first time in ages that I have bought myself some clothes. I have to have the colours now for my identity. I restrained myself from getting anything else because of the environment. I got told off for wearing women’s clothes. So what? I don’t care. I’m not wearing them because they are women’s clothes. I don’t get any kick out of it. For practical reasons and because of my personal preference. I am a very rational person and if the construction of gender gets in the way, I will give it a kick and push it out of my way.

I watched John Wick 4 just now. The four films are some of the best action films – and some of the best films – ever made in Western cinema. Because you have a man dedicated to revenge at any cost. Someone who had to watch his wife die from a terminal illness and couldn’t protect her. Someone whose heart has burnt away in love and powerlessness. Someone who is fighting the world for his freedom.

John Wick the fighter loves Helen. The most beautiful woman in the world. The most beautiful of the Greeks. Who else could he love?

25.12.2023

Anyone that reads this blog and this diary knows that I don’t share personal details about my family. I can write about myself since I don’t care about sharing. What is anyone going to do about it? Not the family. Since this is family time on this day, there’s not really a lot I can write about the day, except that there were some family meals together.

Dinner was roast lamb, pigs in blankets, roast potatoes, boiled vegetables, stuffing, gravy.

Lunch was chicken tandoori

Chocolate delight of the day: Cadbury’s Milk Tray. Does anyone even remember the old adverts? I don’t know the age of the people that are currently reading this blog. If they are young, they probably never saw any of those adverts.

Todays outfit? Pink and white striped shirt with short sleeves, yellow trousers and a pink scarf.

The world around us is full of variety and different experiences. Some people that got in contact were having a tough time over Christmas. Some people were off in other countries enjoying themselves. Some people wanted to reach out over social media – other people were obviously super busy with family and friends, the people closest to them.

I spent the morning sorting out my calendar for upcoming shifts and then organising my music library by downloading quite a few titles I didn’t have from the Hindi music streaming service that I have so I have them off-line and I can listen to them on the Tube. I finally managed to read a magazine that I picked up on the tube and the most interesting article was about the history of the beauty spot.

I spent a lot of time watching Hindi music videos from films – some of my favourite tracks from recent releases which I listen to over and over again on the streaming app on the Tube.

Other things I managed to fit in today: a big sleep in the morning, lots of exercise, juggling, languages learning, a walk even though the park was closed.

It was a day without any women in it apart from family members that don’t count. Except for the fake woman on a dating app that messaged me to try and get me to join some other social messaging service. So it was an unusual day as I am usually surrounded by women at work now.

24.12.2023

You, my diary, are the one I can tell almost anything to. We have our own little, world, the world of dreams. But because I share you, there are even some things that I don’t tell you. Who knows who is reading? This diary is one of the most dangerous things in the world. Because we live in a world which is afraid of and hates honesty. Which hates the most natural of feelings in the world – love, desire, want. A world of separation, isolation, hate, apathy. But this world that you and me have, diary, this is a world of love, desire, want, union, hope, real diversity and acceptance, a world in which you want to live.

I was at work so I spent all day working with and talking to a stranger. This often happens now in my life. We got on well. She was a nice person and we worked well together. It is always interesting looking into the world of another person. And she showed me the ropes because I am not too familiar with that place. I also bumped into one of my other friends over there who I had worked with in several different places. It was good catching up. She gave me a hug when she saw me and is a really affectionate person.

One of the customers at work, just when she was about to leave, started asking me about my black velvet suit jacket. She obviously wanted to buy it for someone because she was so impressed about how it looked and was wondering where to get it. I told her where I bought it. This black suit jacket has attracted so many women, got so many compliments, impressed so many people now. It is still my lucky jacket even despite the unlucky meeting with her. In my life, right now, people are always complimenting me on my clothes all the time, which makes me feel good about myself. I know it is vain. They are just clothes. But they make me feel good when I wear them, they illustrate my taste and my vision and my style. They are important to my identity. Suit jackets are particularly important to me because my grandfather wore a suit so I try and wear one as much as I can too.

As I was sitting and eating dinner, I got two messages from the dating app, two likes. I looked at it after dinner. They were two Indian women in the area. Apparently, because it is Christmas Eve and they feel lonely, they have searched me up as an Indian man at almost exactly the same time. I felt sad for them, especially because I wasn’t attracted to their profiles. They wanted someone. They were hurting. This is the time of year where people feel loneliest, when they watch everyone around them with families. They were both about my age. These were some of their last years to try and have a family of their own. I knew what their struggle had been in life to find someone as an Indian myself – you have to fight against everyone for love, for choice. For someone that just loves you for yourself and nothing else. In a hostile, apathetic, selfish, grasping world. I knew what their struggle was right now, how bad things must have been. I wanted to send them a message of support. But this is the world. We live in the world. I didn’t like them back. I didn’t message them. They were not for me. I hope that they will find someone.

What people reading my blog may think – being from this culture – is that because I talk about meeting someone and because I have candidates in my life that I think about – that I might be desperate. I am not desperate. If I were desperate, I would go out with the many women that like my profile on the dating app or try it on with just anyone. I don’t try it with just anyone. I only go for someone that I am physically attracted to, have a genuine connection with and that might be right for me. Everyone else is just a friend and that’s where they are going to stay. People tell me to drop my standards – that is not going to happen. If I wanted to settle, I would have settled a long time ago. It is everything or nothing with me. I am not a dog that will pick at any scrap of love that is given to me. I have self respect and respect for someone else’s love life. I would never treat them like an object for my gratification or to make myself feel better or to make anyone else feel bad about them. Because love is important for me and it should be important for other people as well. I’m not that sort of person. I am serious.

23.12.2023

Breakfasts are back on. The motivation to get out bed again has come back. Three days in a row. Everything is slowly coming back.

In the morning, I got some bad news. Someone at work I had met recently and was only here for a short time was sick and off. This was her last day when I would see her. I liked talking to her and seeing her around. And I couldn’t even say goodbye. She was a beautiful person and into creativity, sitcoms and Harry Potter and literature like me.

I expected it to be a really bad day again, but then… And suddenly, just like that, I felt super happy all day. Because I realised again how big and open my heart is to play the beautiful game again (why not? It is the heart of the tiger, a heart that is invincible, strong, that can never break). The game begins when you look into their eyes, it intensifies when you see that sweet smile on their face all for you… That smile just for you makes you crazy.

And now, the energy of the sun came back into my blood. The flood of power coursing through the body. The intoxication.

Hope is a lie. But this lie springs eternal. Even if you are going to hear that terrible word ‘no’ again, you remember that you can’t be miserly with your love or wear armour over your heart. You were made to love. You were named after the greatest love stories in ancient and modern times. To be a lover and a fighter is my destiny. It is who I am.

And now, there will be no limits. I am the risk taker. It makes no difference what their age is, their ethnicity, their background, how different they are from me. I am going to go for it and I don’t care what anyone thinks. It is my life. My choice. My heart. The right one will give me what I want – a family and love.

The beautiful thing about the law of love is that you are allowed to ask someone at least once – nicely. According to law, in general terms (there are a few exceptions) as long as they are over sixteen (in practical terms, over eighteen, because that feels more right) you can ask anyone you want, wherever you are, in almost any situation. But practically, you have to wait for the right time. Not too quickly. Not too slowly.

I can’t read the signs. I can’t read facial expressions that well. I can’t tell friendship from romance. But while that affects the result, it can’t affect the attempt. Maybe they would rather be single than be with me. I am not a mind reader. And the only way to know for sure is to ask. If they can’t forgive you for at least trying, then it is fated to end the friendship. And I will have to learn to forgive a ‘no’ if I get it because this won’t be like the other time where I can’t forget and forgive because of the situation.

After work I went down to the National Portrait Gallery to see the Portrait Award 2023 exhibition. I am going to write up my notes and share later on the blog. I got back just now, so it is late. I still have the massive amount of energy in me, but it is not the right time just yet to write. Tomorrow, after work. I have a shorter day.

I walked around in Christmas at Trafalgar Square afterwards. I was walking through the crowd of couples and families wondering how they had met, what their stories were, why they were so lucky. I wanted to take a few photographs of the people but I didn’t ask them. One day, I will bring my proper camera and just ask people. Why not? Life is too short not to ask. That is my new philosophy in life. Just ask nicely. No one minds if you ask them something nicely.

Dinner was fantastic. I treated myself to Kentucky Fried Chicken and fries with hot wings and a Cherry Coca-Cola for once. And then, to top it all off, I had a Caramel Galaxy McFlurry at McDonalds! I was so happy that I celebrated with this meal for myself, a celebration of the beautiful game, the only really beautiful game in the world.

And then, I went into Selfridges to look at all the people shopping for their friends and family, just to watch the expression of love in our world. Love is everything. If you don’t have love, you don’t have anything. And I want that everything in my life.

I pampered myself. I bought some half-price perfumes for women for myself. I don’t care if they are women’s perfumes. I am going to wear them. I love perfume and women’s perfume appeals to me the most. I am comfortable with my masculinity and my feminine side. I don’t care if someone thinks that something that I do is womanly. That is the narrowness of their minds and their disrespect towards women, women’s things and women’s traditional occupations. I wear women’s scarves. So what? I like them. There is a set of four floral scented perfumes which I am super excited to taste:

1.Tangerine/Green Tea/Vanilla
2.Amber/Jasmine
3.Fresh Rose/Jasmine
4.Jasmine/Red Berries

To finish off with a poem:

swept I was into the jungle of her eyes
where the darkness jostled with the light
whatever happens in the jungle
whatever moves in its voice
the tiger has found a balm
for the sword in his chest

22.12.2023

Why do men chase women? While some people say that men are only after one thing, it would be quite incorrect to make that sound as if men were superficial or callous and only interested in women as physical bodies. Because if you come from my generation of people, my background, my culture, the reason you go after a woman is yes, because of her physical appearance and her body, but also because you want comfort from her and kindness, intimacy and friendship. And that involves sympathy, being on the same wavelength, an emotional connection. Anyone (I mean me) could get physical intimacy within about an hour of being in a club. That is not satisfactory or fulfilling. There has to be a meeting of minds, connection. Otherwise, it is a big waste of time and effort.

In fact, I was thinking about this today. When you are around them, you feel intoxicated. They say that it is the same feeling that you get from being on drugs. I don’t do drugs. I don’t drink or smoke. So that feeling that I am getting is the only intoxication that I have in life and it is addictive. You need it. That’s why you chase. Even despite all the difficulties and problems, you can’t give up on your intoxication. It defeats the rational urge to just quit. But the important thing about the intoxication – you have to feel like they want to be around you too. As soon as you get the feeling that they don’t want to be with you, you just feel like a jerk imposing yourself on someone. They have to be friendly and into you.

If someone hurts me, I can take it. And I will just get back up again. Whether it is a fight or love. Because I am the tiger. I can withstand things that other people can’t. So if anyone thinks I am callous, you have to remember that I don’t have time and you can’t make someone love you if they don’t. I’m not going to sit around and mope now that is go time. I said so much before. Right now, there are several candidates, all in order of preference. It is going to be time to choose soon and make the moves. It is information gathering time. Whether they have someone. What they can bring to the table. How much we are going to get on. Most importantly, they have to want what I want. All the other trivial and meaningless details can be hashed out later.

One of my bosses gave me a pack of Indian art greeting cards. He chose some that had Krishna in them because I had told him that’s what my name means. This is my first Christmas present of the year and probably my last.

Breakfasts have begun again. We had to keep on throwing the berries out because the date was expiring before I started eating them. I hate to waste food and it has been two days in a row that I have been able to get up early enough to not have to skip breakfast. So that is the motivation to get up now in the morning – not to waste food and money. Hopefully I will put on the weight that I have lost over the past few months.

Once upon a time, all I wanted was to be read. Then, when I started being read, I wanted more readers. But I also wanted some engagement. That is the one thing that you do not normally get, engagement. No one says anything. Who knows what they are thinking about what you are reading? How much of a difference you made? Whether anyone agrees with you, understands you, above all, whether anyone loves you as a writer and a person and a mind?