I Have to Get Better

06.05.2024

why do you drink
so much
what do you find
in it
if not the bones
if not the corpse
the corpse of
my grandfather
that died from a stroke
from drinking
why do you smoke so much
what do you find in it
if not the corpse
the corpse of my grandmother
who died from smoking
too much
the only drinking i do
is to look in your eyes
full of intoxication
when i am drunk
it is with those eyes
that smile
that laughter
that pain i feel
when you are so close
to me
and i don’t have you
in my arms
to drink again and again
from your eyes

Something happened today which was disappointing and very upsetting.

I was going to go straight home, but because I was distracted, I forgot a letter I needed for tomorrow in my locker. So I had to go back in. That wasted an hour.

When I got there, it was late. I didn’t feel like going home. I went and sat there in Trafalgar Square by myself for thirty minutes. I was looking at the water and thinking how beautiful it would be to go in that water and never come back out of it, like Virginia Woolf who drowned herself.

I kept on thinking about the film Collateral with Tom Cruise where he asked how long your corpse would be on the metro before someone realised that you were dead, or whether they would do anything even if they knew you were dead.

I keep on thinking that I am getting better, but everything is getting worse. The nausea came back.

There is something wrong. I used to be normal. Things didn’t affect me this much before. And I know what is wrong, but there is no cure and I can’t do anything about it.

So I sat there. And then, I remembered that I would have children at the end of this year. I have waited long enough. I’m not waiting any more. I promised myself those children on the pain of death. And straight away, I got up and got myself dinner. Because to have those children, I need to be at my most fertile. I need to be in tip top shape. I have to give them the best that my body can produce. I can’t starve and mope around wallowing in my own pity for myself and my situation.

I have to get better now.

I have to start getting up in the morning on time. I have to beat the habit of lying there moping about things and then skipping breakfast. I have to make sure I exercise every morning. I have to do my language learning and reading to keep my brain sharp because you have to exercise each part of your body.

Look at me right now. I haven’t shaved in a week. I haven’t had a shower in a week. I am finding it difficult to motivate myself to do anything outside of work. I am becoming undisciplined, the type of person I don’t like.

I have to stop caring about people that don’t love or like me back. It has always been the same problem. They never like you back if you like them or love them. Every one I have been with has asked me out or hung around me first when I wasn’t that interested in them. Every one I have ever been interested in has said no. All four of them.

You have to forgot that they don’t love you. You have to forget about them. You can’t keep on hoping that something is going to happen. With Helen and Girl 2, I have a really dysfunctional relationship with both of them at the moment. I can’t forget that they wouldn’t go out with me. And Girl 2 judges me and criticises me all the time and is obviously still angry at me. What about Helen? Helen is never going to be around and she always hangs around her white men that follow her around all the time anyway. She does not care that I love her. I want to believe that she does. I don’t want to give up.

Do you know the peculiar thing about Helen and Girl 2 which struck me today? I never think about them in bodily terms. I don’t even look at their bodies. That is not natural. I am a man with a high libido. I love women. That proves that things are dysfunctional. Because with Potential Girl, who is not white, I do think of her in bodily terms. Which is natural.

When was the last time I even had a proper conversation with Helen or Girl 2? I haven’t had one with Helen in about five months or so. It is about the same time period with Girl 2. They are both in the past.

I am writing this all down rationally. Not through feeling. In actual facts. Obviously, your mind in this area does not work rationally. Even while I am writing, I still want to be with them.

What is happening in my life at the moment? Last week some drunk woman messaged me on Tinder. She must have seen my like about a week before she got drunk and wrote to me. She is white. That is the only message I have had from a white woman after being on Tinder for five months. And because she wrote to me when she was drunk, I am not going to write back to her. Because I can put up with Helen, Girl 2 and Potential Girl drinking even though I don’t like it because I know them and I care about them. But I am not putting up with it in a stranger that I don’t even know. Today, some Afro-Carribbean woman matched with me. She is very beautiful, but, like most of these women nowadays, she is taller than me. So, again, I have another Helen – taller than me and the same age. Is she even real though? That’s the question with this dating app.

There is a quote in John Wick 4. It goes something like:

Those who cling to life cling to death

Those who cling to death cling to life

The more and more I keep on thinking about that quote, the more and more I keep on thinking that it is true. I want to cling to death. And that is why I live. And those that cling to life? What do they really know about living, if they have not been raped by death?

It is said in a Hindi song in the film Guide: Today once again I have the desire to live/Today once again I have the intention of dying.

The Suicide Tree

02.05.2024

When I was a teenager, my grandfather told me a story about a tree in the church graveyard in the corner near his house which we used to walk past every time we went to see him and my grandmother. My grandfather used to live in London, so it was always an adventure to go and see him, because we lived in Essex. London was different, exciting.

But the problem was, that we didn’t know what London was really like. In Essex, we were protected in the Indian family. We lived secure lives. We had stability. We were raised the old-fashioned way. We expected adults to be together forever. Marriage was for life. What other people did hadn’t penetrated our lives.

We were just sitting there on the sofa. My grandfather began the story. It was a very short story. One morning, just a regular morning, they found an Indian man hanging from that tree we walked past every day. Dead.

He had married a woman from India and had called her over to England. But then, shortly after the marriage, she started hanging around white people. And then, she left her husband for a white boyfriend.

Everyone said it was a suicide. That the husband had despaired of life. But, my grandfather said, how could anyone be sure? What if it had been a murder?

A story that was forgotten at the time. A mysterious affair seen through the eyes of a teenager. Shocking because it was the first realisation that an arranged marriage was not for life for everyone, like we had been taught that it was. Shocking to think that someone could break their wedding vows like that.

When I think back on that tale from the life which my grandfather told me – a tale I keep on thinking about over and over again nowadays – I remember what happened to him. My grandfather’s father deserted his family for another woman. Which meant that my grandfather was raised in absolute poverty. He later went blind in life because of malnutrition from the formative years of his childhood.

This was the man that had told me the story about the suicide tree.

Holiday Day 5: Marianne North, Kew Gardens in London, Queen Mary II Concert at the ORNC Chapel

30.04.2024

‘love skull’

when my heart was of glass

i threw it at your feet

and it burst

so i picked up each shard

with my fingers

and they cut me

then my heart was of shivers

and when I threw it at your feet again

you trampled them down

now my heart is so infinitely small in atoms

and i can’t find it to throw at you again

but still i am looking and hoping

watching and waiting

waiting and watching

breaker of my heart

Yesterday, I rushed my diary so that Helen could read it at night time. I missed out a few things. One of the highlights of yesterday at Kew Gardens Wakehurst was that me and my friend started walking in the labyrinth down there. There is a concentric circle labyrinth and you journey towards the centre. My friend was telling me that it was pointless, because you could have taken a geodesic route from the outside to the inner circle. We like to argue. I was telling him that I am a meanderer. I go the long route and meander into something. It is how I have lived my life. It is what I do on long walks. I like to dilly and dally and contemplate, smell the roses. You might be reading that and wondering how do I manage to get so much stuff done then? Because a journey is an adventure. How many adventures do you get in life? Work you have to do.

Speaking of work, I was telling my writer’s group where I volunteer (one of the many places) that love is work and work is love. Every night I write this diary to Helen. This diary is Helen. I am talking to her. What about Girl 3 and Potential Girl? Girl 3 used to read my diary. I don’t know if she does any more. And I’m not sure whether Potential Girl has ever read it. So why talk about them here? If I am not talking to them? I think about them. I see them much more often than Helen, who I never see at all.

My friend told me yesterday when I told him I have been writing for seven months to her and she has been reading my words every night that it was the greatest love story. If only I could get her. In practical terms, I should forget her now. I should erase her from my mind. But what does love have to do with reason and practicality? Look at her. She has a completely different perspective on life to me. She is Western. I am Indian. She comes from the city. I come from the village. We used to argue about things. But do you know the spirit of The Tiger? Romeo loves Juliet. Paris loves Helen. The Tiger loves difference. A warrior loves a warrior.

So, today, early morning travel to Kew Gardens in London to work on updating my tour script. It has to change with the planting and seasonality. There is also a new art exhibition around the grounds to incorporate into the script.

Then, there was a tour of the Marianne North Gallery – I requested it for the volunteer Tour Guides. It was amazing, from one of my best friends there. She is such a lovely woman and a lovely speaker. She answered all of the many questions that I had and took us through the life of Marianne North, the artist whose life I understand so much. And while she was talking, I noticed the theme of death running through her work which has interested me so much. Like me, she was all alone in the world. No company but the plants and her oil paintings. A solitary soul that adventured through life, that didn’t love a normal, secure life. Someone touched by death that fought to see what is living, growing, beautiful, colourful. She is without a doubt my favourite woman artist.

Afterwards I looked around. I was able to go into one of my favourite spaces which has recently opened up, the water lily house. The water lilies looked amazing against the black background of the pond – they have dyed it that colour with food dye.

We all met up for drinks (and lunches for some) in The Botanist, a swanky bar in the area. I tried one of their speciality soft drinks – raspberry, lychee and orange blossom. It was so perfumed and lovely. It was one of the most delicious drinks I have ever tasted in my life (and I have been in five star hotels, some of the best hotels and restaurants in the whole world).

I walked around Kew Gardens all day. The sun was out. I was in a place I loved. I had a nice lunch there with Harissa chicken, chips and butternut squash. But was I happy? I have started feeling sad again. I wasn’t in the mood to be in that bar. I didn’t want to be in the gardens without a woman. I am feeling the want again. But you know what, Tiger still smiles. That perpetual smile on his face is what the Buddha and Krishna always had. It is the smile of wisdom. Smile even if you don’t feel happy. No one is unhappy with you. Nobody wants to share unhappiness. So just smile instead. Psychology says if you fake an emotion, your body just feels like you are actually experiencing it.

Picked up a new uniform for volunteering there – as is often the case, I have to wear women’s clothes in these types of places. Even though I am muscular, the only size that fits me is women’s because they never have men’s in small. I had a chat with the Volunteer Managers – they are super nice and super likeable.

I picked up some plant books in the library and also managed to get some in the charity shop when I went down to the Old Royal Naval College in the evening for the concert in the chapel to celebrate Queen Mary II’s birthday. The music was sublime. As I was listening to it – the vocals always make me experience absolute pleasure – the music was evoking all the emotions of that place and everything that has happened in it. It was the composer’s birthday so we sang happy birthday to him. I wasn’t going to, but then I remembered that singing always makes you feel better about yourself. So I joined in.

Dinner was Thunderbirds Chicken in Canary Wharf. The holiday is almost over and then it will be home cooking again.

Two compliments on my clothes today. The gardener at Kew Gardens said I looked like a rock star. Every single person at the Old Royal Naval College said I looked really cool and really smart. I have my own personal sense of style – I don’t copy anyone and I wear bright colours and think about the combination of things. That’s why people like what I wear.

Even if you don’t want to carry on going, you have to think about your responsibilities and carry on going. Today I was so tired. I was walking about the world with no woman in it. No comfort. They did an experiment on monkey babies with a wire mother with food attached to it. The monkey babies suffered with the wire monkey. They preferred a stuffed toy which was soft and comforting, not the food. They spent more time with it. Comfort is missing from my life and I am suffering as a result. The man that needs a lot of love and affection is not getting it from anywhere. I am suffering from love starvation again.

The Bird Flies

23.04.2024

Sometimes I wonder how you can be happy in this life. Today, Girl 3 was sad. Sad things have happened. She won’t admit that she is sad and I can’t intrude on her like that. It is in the way that she was speaking. And, I like Girl 3. She is one of my best friends in those contexts, whether she thinks of me like that after I asked her out. How can you look at them and not be sad when they are sad? And she is flying away from me. It is happening. I knew it would happen. It has started. Her, I forgave for not going with me. Because the situation was different. She is not like that. Now, I am sad for her. But, she is young. The future is all open for her.

When someone is in my life, I don’t want them to ever go out of my life. But this is life, this is this world – you have to keep on watching them go out of your life. And? And? I cannot cry. Do you think that I can tell Girl 3 that I am sad for her and don’t want her to go? Of course I can’t. That is the situation. Maybe she will read and she will know.

If she was mean to me, I like to think it was out of love (and not because she hated me). So I forgave her every time.

So I was sad all day and I am sad now. That is life. You shouldn’t care for anyone. Because when you do, you have to be sad when they are sad and worry about them when they are worried.

But maybe, she will not be gone from my life. You never know. Sometimes, things happen. Even unexpected things and things you have realistically given up hope on. Pandora’s box always has hope in it.

So, for those reading, Girl 3 came a while after Helen. With Girl 3, I have not given her names. Although what I think of her as is Kali the mother goddess. Because she is all fire and rage. She has my personality. She suffers a lot.

What are the names that I have given Helen? So many names, because I have met her in dreams rather than in real life:

– Helen: the most beautiful woman in the world

– […] honey: because of her sweetness and the sweetness of her voice, the music of her words, and because of the country she is from

– Mallika-e-Hindustan: the Mistress of India (because I am India), because there is a word for what her name means in Hindi that is only very slightly different from Mallika (mistress)

– The Impossible Woman: because Helen is impossible to get, to talk to, to be with. She is the dream.

Whatever happens, even if Helen is with someone else now, I know that I loved her. I loved her. I asked her out. When I thought I saw even the inkling of a chance, I asked her out again. I never bothered her. When it came down to it, I told her that I loved her in front of everyone. I don’t care about the repercussions. I haven’t done anything wrong and nobody can say that I have. I am not going to accept it.

Even now, I think about her a lot. She didn’t let me love her, so nobody knows what would have happened there. One day, I will stop writing to her. One day, the news is going to hit me directly – I am going to have to see with my own eyes that she is with someone else. Maybe I have already seen it. That is the horrible thought.

Why I am the Lone Man in this Country; The Indian View of Marathons, the Olympics and Alexander the Great

21.04.2024

As is the case every year, the marathon came back to London causing the usual chaos and aggravation. I remember we were in a lecture theatre at university and some seedy politician was claiming that the United Kingdom is based on Ancient Greek principles and therefore the Elgin marbles rightfully belonged to us. Everyone laughed. It was a rare occasion when even the sheep in this country could see the bullshit that the politicians spout for what it actually is.

However, that politician was indicating something in this culture. It mindlessly celebrates Ancient Greek institutions which are (I would say obviously) wrong and of dubious pedigree. Democracy? The Ancient Greeks didn’t include women or immigrants or the slaves that did all the work. And how can something be right just because the majority want it to be that way, at the expense of the (thinking) minority? The Democratic leaders were all douche bags that had no principles and just pandered to the sheep.

It is the same with the celebration of Greek sports and athletics. The Marathon (now if not originally) is a competition. The Olympics is a competition. But how arrogant were these ancient Greeks to make someone a winner and everyone else a loser in their ruthlessly and recklessly and destructively competitive collection of city states? How arrogant and ego serving are their games which we are still playing now? It is the mark of an arrogant culture.

It is the same thing with Alexander the Great. How corrupt, greedy and how much of a douche bag do you have to be to go and conquer other countries in the name of arrogance, egotism and pride? And yet this Western culture looks up to this asshole because ‘he conquered the world’. But as we all know, he conquered the known world but he couldn’t conquer India. India killed him. Because India kills arrogance and pride. It is the foundation of our culture and our thinking. We worship Kali because she is the killer of ego: that is what her insatiable blood thirst targets.

But what do you expect people to celebrate in this egotistical culture of neo-imperialists? That aren’t yet properly ashamed of and divorced from British Imperialism and its racism?

And this is how we come to it, why I am the lone man in this country. Because I don’t bow down to the government, laws, the crown or the political institutions of this racist and neo-imperialist country. I keep my head held up high for myself and my community. I don’t lick their feet and run my life by their rules and standards. I don’t let them devalue me. I would topple them in a moment if I had the opportunity for intruding in my area and in my life and trying to destroy us and our culture. In the name of justice, honour and truth, which this country does not have, whatever it says. I acknowledge no one above myself, least of all the white supremacists who have dishonoured my mother and my people. I only bow down to my mother. Out of love. No one and nothing else. Only love rules in my world. Not the hate of the western world. That’s why I am the lone man in this country. I am not a fucking slave with no self respect or individual conscience. I write my own laws for myself and follow them.

At work, I had the opportunity to give a tour to a mother with her daughter that had just qualified as a medical doctor. I felt the pride of the mother when she told me about her daughter’s achievement. I like achievers. I am an achiever myself. It is what we respect. I felt fond of them both.

I talked to one of my new friends at work who I like a lot and have liked since the first time I have seen her. She is a very charming and loveable person.

Not much else happened in life. Except for the fact that I thought I saw Helen come in with a man. It wasn’t her, it was someone that looked like her. It was just a moment of surprise.

I was reading the column in the Metro newspaper when people talk about people they like on the Tube but they do absolutely fucking nothing about it. Because they are cowards and dumb. I have actually talked to someone on the Tube that I found really attractive. It was a few years ago. It was a Japanese woman that got on with her friend. I liked her. I gave her my seat. She bowed to me. I started talking to her when we got off. If it wasn’t for the fact that she couldn’t speak English properly. She was super cute and super friendly. I could tell she was attracted to me because she kept on looking at me and smiling at me. That is life. So when I read the Metro, I look at these people around me and wonder how the human race even continued with people like this around.

Paris’s Love for Helen

20.04.2024

husn tera hai nangi talvar

your beauty is like a naked sword

jido haath lagein

when I put my hand upon it

to ghayal ho javein

then I am wounded

aankhein teri

your eyes

ekh aag

a fire

jis mein hum raakh ho javein

in which I become ash

aag he aag

only fire only fire

jis me hum choor

in which I scatter myself

baatein mein jaddoo

in your words a magic

har baat qayamat

every word a calamity

humein manzoor

i accept

gum-e-dil-e-mohabbat

the sadness of the heart of love

ae mere huzoor

my mistress

jo rehte hai humsein itna door

that stays far away from me

20.04.2024

Do you know what Paris’s love for Helen is? Paris can’t sleep because he is sick of love for Helen. Paris can’t get out of bed in the mornings because he is sick of love for Helen. When he sees other men following Helen around, Paris trembles all over. Someone is going to take Helen away from him. When he sees other men following Helen around, it feels like Paris’s stomach is falling apart. He feels like he is going to faint. And when he is sick like that, he has to talk to people and smile and nod at them when the only thing he can think about is Helen in someone else’s arms, Helen not being his, Helen gone away forever.

When Helen is there, he can’t look at her because he loves her so much. She is the only thing he can think about.

Paris hates himself for loving Helen because he knows that she is never going to be his. Paris hates being sick in love.

Paris hates the fact that Helen isn’t in his arms. That he is not stroking her cheek. That he is not caressing her hair.

Paris hates the fact that Helen knows he loves her and she doesn’t care about it.

What does it mean to be Paris? Paris went into Greece and he took Helen from the king in front of everyone. It didn’t matter how many people were there. Somehow, he took her for himself.

What does it mean to be Paris? To keep Helen as his, Paris fought against the whole of Greece. To stop someone taking her away, to defend her, he fought against everyone.

How lucky Paris was that he could have Helen. And die when he wasn’t going to have her any more.

I talked to a woman that had a puppet in her hand today. She was using the puppet to talk to me. It wasn’t a performance. It was a real conversation. She carried that puppet around to the evening. She had that puppet with her as her friend. So many people tell me that I am handsome all the time. And today, for the first time, a woman said it to me through the puppet. I said that the puppet looked cute. The woman made the puppet say that it looked cute from all angles and that I was cute as well, dashing. Was she trying to flirt with me through the puppet? Or was she just being nice and playful? I was interested in an exhibit at the gallery that she is at and I mentioned when I was going – should I have done that? I was just making conversation and I wasn’t thinking about what I was saying because I was distracted by today.

I made someone’s day by pointing out that the brooch she was wearing was a Paisley design. She really needed that information and by chance I provided it to her. She kept on thanking me over and over again. That is what it means to have and to share knowledge.

I went to a chocolate tasting event. At first I could follow it, but then the thoughts took over.

Someone told me I looked tired today. What can I say? I can’t sleep properly. This is the biggest disappointment in my life. In a life filled with so many disappointments and betrayals.

let me clasp at the snake

and suck at its venom

let me be one with the hurt

and death

give me the paper and the pen

that I might maul it with my

blood

the cross with its cruel nails is the shelter

the thorns adorn the crown

for the man that is god

that loves the unloving other

The Three Dance in the Water

17.04.2024

the three dance in the water

around me

as it boils

the three dance in the water

around me

as it freezes

one clutches at the other

one whispers in the water

one she scatters liquid light

in their forms the foamy sun rises

with Aphrodite’s glamour

I the eye

I watch the water

and the water’s dance

and in it

I see the smile of Aphrodite

gliding towards me

like the dagger true

So this is the photograph I took. And this is the picture I made. This is the difference between my photographer’s eye and my digital art eye. The picture I made has become about The Three. The stars around which my planet is orbiting now. Two of them might already be gone. Maybe all of them will go. Man stands alone in the world.

in the love of the world

in the desert of the world

there is an oasis

the water is cool and fragrant

the water is the kiss of a mother

it takes the thirst of the desert

and by it

grows one lone tree

which casts a shade

which cools the water

which touches the heavens

Just to hold her hand once. To kiss it. And to put my palm against hers.

I am listening to Arabic music instrumentals on Spotify as I write. The sound is melancholic.

In a moment, I will get up and shave off this beard from my face. I want to give up. But tomorrow, I will see her again. Tomorrow is another day. Tomorrow, the Tiger will still be the Tiger. Tomorrow, the hero in love will still be the hero. If you have loved, never fear. If you have loved, you can lose everything. But you cannot lose your courage.

phenka humne phool

i cast a flower

Uskein taraf

towards her

Us mein dil tha humara

within it was my heart

phenka humne phool

i cast a flower

jis mein chehra tha uska

within it was her face

phool ne kata humein

the flower cut me

koi shikayat nahein

there is no complaint

phenka humne phool

i cast a flower

uskein taraf

towards her

usmein jaan thi humare

within it was my life

Ukrainian women are exceedingly beautiful. I talked to one today. No one knows my type. I don’t tell people.

It was a moonlight night. I was in the country of the Arabs. I was in pain. There was the water. The stars glided across the water, the lights of the night. In the crowd, I saw a beauty from the heavens, an angel. She had forgotten her way and come to earth. She walked towards me. And then? She walked towards the boat on the water. I watched her going. My heart was breaking. In the beautiful night, the invisible rain of tears knitted themselves into the fabric of the sky. She walked away, I sighed. She walked away, I was flooded with melancholy. Across the water, I watched the boat depart. That moment is caught in my mind. It was Her. It was She. I watched my life walk away from me. And I stood there like a corpse, sighing into the windless sky.

High Pain Threshold

08.04.2024

beauty hides her face in the flowers

beauty hides her voice in the flowers

her lips are the scent of the blooms

her eye is lost in the petals

the sun is upon her skin

the sun is her lover

she whispers the pollen

she lures the birds

fragrant is the way

decked with the concealing flowers

soft is the poison

that steals upon the senses

beauty hides her face in the flowers

the sun loves the beauty in the flowers

The Olympics is coming. I am the fan of athletics and gymnastics. But now, there is no time to watch. I am the lover of the body. I am the lover of skill. I am the lover of the beautiful people. And the lover is separated from his beauties, the body and the skill. Life mirrors life, hurt mirrors hurt, separation mirrors separation. What does one expect? Less than nothing.

Going back to exploring digital painting styles. In art, without experimentation, there is nothing. Everything is an experiment. Never stick to one style.

People hate my digital art. So what? Fuck you. I do what I want when I want. When I don’t want to do it any more, I stop doing it. Just because someone uses traditional media doesn’t make them a better artist. Just because someone draws like a photograph, it doesn’t make them a better artist. Art is about capturing your ideas and your feelings. It is not surprising that no one can relate to the art of The Tiger. Because who else is The Tiger here? I am alone in this world. I am like the Western god. In a society that believes in individuality, I am the only individual. In a society that believes in personality, I am the personality. In a society that believes in culture, I am the cultured one. In the society of supposed men, I am the lone man.

Massive pains in the leg. In Hindu philosophy, life is suffering. You are condemned to the world. The doctor’s won’t pick up the phone. So I sent an email in the morning. They didn’t reply to it. Even the people that are paid to care for you don’t care for you. Such is life.

Fortunately, I have an incredibly high pain threshold. I even ran for the bus this morning feeling the shooting pains all over my leg. And I caught it too.

I will wait a couple of days for the doctor’s, but I don’t actually expect anything from anyone nowadays. The scene that comes to mind is Collateral when Tom Cruise the villain says that no one will even notice you are dead on the metro in a Western country for a few days.

A young blonde woman on the tube that was standing next to me on the way home leaned over me and kept on touching me the whole way home. She very nearly rested her head on my shoulder. Even the other women sitting down were looking at her to see what she was up to (a young brunette one kept on staring at me and then looking away when I looked at her at the same time – typical behaviour for these young women). If I had done that to a woman, I would have been accused of sexually harassing her.

Everyone on my tours today asked me what my name was so they could write their comments on the feedback forms and praise me. I had nineteen people in total over the quick tours in the hour. Some of them actually requested the feedback forms so that they could give me a compliment. One offered me a tip. Even when The Tiger is in pain, he is still The Tiger. I always perform. It’s what I’m known for. If there is one person you can depend upon in this world, it is me. I commit absolutely.

People think that I am wrong. They always think it. If someone rejects you in love, they are telling you that you are not a man. They have devalued you. They have judged you as inferior to them. And people are telling me that I am wrong for not wanting to remain friends with them? It is me that is right. But do you know something? I know that whoever they go with is worse than me. I am the best. I am what I would want if I was a woman. It doesn’t matter if even the ones that don’t love you don’t think it. The mind, the body, the learning, the heart. The patience, the love. The achievement of understanding. The freedom and the power. The spirit of The Tiger. India is everyone’s daddy. We are the oldest. We are the most knowledgeable. I am India. It is the name I call myself.

Two quotes from Indian movies in my translation, to share with the non-Indians and to spread the culture:

If freedom is a crime

Then the punishment is accepted

Now what will happen

Will be the will of God

(The Thugs of Hindoostan)

By heart we are soldiers

By mind we are the devil

We are India

(‘The older master is excellent, but the little master is outstanding’)

When I Say Goodbye to Helen

02.04.2024

One day, it will be time to say goodbye to Helen. Either she will stop reading this diary. Or I will stop writing. One person will exit the game. And then, the game will be over. Right now, Helen is winning this game. Whatever strategy I have adopted, I always lose. I hate losing. In any game. I play to win. One day, I will be sick of losing. Not right now. Robert the Bruce watches the spider falling again and again to rebuild his web. It is the story that my grandfather told me. The spider will keep picking itself up again and again. It goes on instinct. The web of words is created every night. And those gossamer threads we spread around the image of our darling. She is the nourishment of what it is that we are. She is comfort. She is the dream. Without the dream, there is no life or desire for life. That is where the spider is at the moment, though he falls. He falls in the fall of love, the glance from those fell eyes, the honey dripping from those lips, the waterfall in her hair and the blackness of her eyes.

After work today, I walked home with my new friend. And she took me grocery shopping with her on the way to the station. Why lie? I like being around women. That was interesting to me. Just being around them makes you feel good about yourself. They have always been scarce in my life. Now they are in my life. But because they were scarce before, they are all special to me, valuable. I could learn them for my whole life.

The highlight of today was dinner. I don’t like to write what it is. It is not nice when I know nobody else can have it as good as me. My mother is the most wonderful cook in the world. Her food is her love for me. She will spend all day cooking for me. How can anyone else in the whole world eat as good as me? It is impossible.

After I got home, I did a bit of shopping myself. I picked up some things which I really fancied: cherry yoghurt and cherry jam. It is the season of the cherry. The most beautifully flavoured fruit for me. The tartness and the sweetness combined. Why did they say that the cherry is virginity? Because the sensuousness of the taste is sexual, animal.

It is almost bedtime. And therefore time to read. Tomorrow morning, I have promised myself that I will pick myself back up and throw myself once more against the world. Tomorrow morning, I have promised that I will win the day for my people. Tomorrow morning, once more, I have promised myself that I will be The Tiger, The Machine. The prayer of the Punjabis, of Mother India. Her true son and lover. No one amongst us has this mind. No one amongst us has these privileges. No one amongst us has this support system. No one amongst us has had the best education in the whole world. No one amongst us is so strong, ferocious and powerful. There is one that has come into this world. There is one that knows the unknown things.

Inquilab zindabaad! Inquilab saada zindabaad! Jai Maa Kaali! (Long Live the Revolution! May the Revolution live forever! Hail to the Dark Mother Goddess!) Remember the promises that you have made and the oaths you have sworn. Remember It is time to get better. It is time to be the best again. The lone man in this country of non-men. Punjab expects. India expects. The village expects. Jai Maa Kaali!

Frenemies; Encouraging Research; Suffering

27.03.2024

the tree of sadness

27.03.2024

a sudden bloom of doom

a heart stretched out

with limbs and fingers

poisoned toes

which strive

through the ground

and into the mind above

the tree of sadness

the structure of pain

burnt into your being

One of my frenemies – the main one – was mean to me. I thought since I hadn’t been around her for a while, she would have gotten over her anger. She is still angry and judging me and everything I do and say. The incident today was over literally nothing. You have to be careful when you become frenemies with a woman. She would never say what she said to me to anyone else there. She is sweet tempered and kind. It was really upsetting. I would like to say that she doesn’t know how much it hurts when someone you like is mean to you. But actually, she is doing it because she knows it upsets me.

So that ruined my day. When she said it, I had an awful sinking feeling in my stomach. I suspect the reasons why she is doing it. I keep my speculations to myself.

What can I do about it? Nothing. If a man spoke to me like that, I wouldn’t put up with it. But she isn’t a man. And she is sensitive. So the best thing is to just leave it alone.

Hopefully it won’t disrupt my sleep patterns as now I have been able to sleep again properly for the past few days. The last time someone I liked was intentionally mean to me, it took seven months to get better again. You know about it. You are reading my diary.

What she said keeps on coming back over and over in my mind. They think I am still young. When you are young, it doesn’t hurt so much. Because you haven’t had hurt upon hurt piled upon you. When they say that stuff to you, it brings all of the memories from before back. It is quadruple the blow. I hope they won’t have to experience it when they are my age.

If I ever upset anyone, it is unintentionally. I would never do it on purpose, especially to a woman.

I have been talking with someone that wants to do a PhD in my subject in English literature somewhere. She has an interesting project and I have been sending her a few short messages about suggestions I have and some links about stuff that I have been reading that might be relevant.. Today she sent me a little thank you note about it. She is a very friendly young woman. I would have appreciated the message more some other day, but life is what it is.

At least Helen is never mean to me. She has been angry at me. Very angry. Once. But she is not mean. But Helen is older. She knows what it is like.

Two friends are unwell. My friend couldn’t talk to me on the phone today because she was feeling so poorly. Another friend has had some really bad health news. I couldn’t catch up with her either. Suffering is everywhere around you in this world. I have only just got better myself. But nobody cares that I suffered and how I had to get through it by myself. That is this world. I had to keep it to myself and away from all of my friends and family until I got better and told two of my friends what happened. Because all they would say is I told you so – don’t mess around with the women in this country because you are different to them and why were you so stupid to do that stuff with these women here after what happened that other time.

Why? Because I want my kids. Because Helen wouldn’t say yes. She was the only one in my life that I wanted. At the time, there was no one else that I wanted. Everyone else is just a substitute for Helen and they all came later. If she said yes, I wouldn’t have even looked at any of these other women that are causing me these problems. I’m not blaming Helen. It is just a fact.