03.05.2024
the one that climbed your face
to put the fire in your eye
was a conjurer
the one that charted the nape of your neck
to cascade the water
through your hair
was an explorer of the night
the one who shaped the golden earth
to make the skin so lovely
that one
that one was
the goddess
You can either believe in the power of love and keep on writing. You can keep on hoping that Helen will change her mind. Or you can believe in the power of hate and separation. And expect that Helen will never be with you. You can either hope that Helen is free. Or you can despair that she is with the white men that she is always hanging around and that she has become someone else’s. You can either believe that Helen reads this diary, these letters to her. Because she has some feelings for you. Or you can believe that she does not read, does not love you, never thinks about you. What choice would you make? We live in the dream. The dream of love.
Slowly, slowly, the drops of water wear away the stone over time. Her heart is stone. Her eyes are stone. The water is each word wrenched from the heart of The Tiger. Each drop falls on the stone. It seems impossible. This love is impossible. This woman is impossible. Even fate itself is against The Tiger. He never sees Helen. He never talks to her. All there is is this meeting place. The meeting place of minds and hearts. And even here, Helen is silent. Even here, Helen is invisible. What The Tiger has is his memory of her.
And the memory today? While I was eating, I was remembering how Helen told me that the Indian diet is unhealthy and the diet from her country is healthy. Those are the kinds of conversations I was having with Helen. Arguments.
But do you know something about The Tiger? The Tiger fucking loves fighting. He loves the fight. The dance with the words. A warrior loves a warrior.
When you don’t want to live, there is a reason to live. When you don’t want to go on, there is a reason to go on. You have sworn revenge. For injustice. For dishonour. For love. Revenge gives you a meaning and purpose to your life. Revenge gives you the power to go on. You are filled with anger. And for your revenge, the revenge which will change the world and everyone in it, you live the life of The Tiger. The Tiger has come alive for one reason. The eyes of The Tiger have opened for one reason. Once upon a time, The Tiger was not the Tiger. Now, there is only one purpose. The revenge of success. The revenge of transformation.
We live in the world of our enemies. They hold the seats of power. They are demons with human faces. They rule the world with hate. They lie. They live shameful lives. They oppress the people. They seduce with the love of power. They have dishonoured our mother. Yet they live lives of privilege, ease and happiness. This is not a hallucination or a story. This is the world that we are living in. The world that must be transformed so that it becomes habitable again. Sometimes I look at this world and I know why the human race has survived like it has: because of the selfishness and oppression of its people, those that take and do not give but pretend to have a benign face despite it all, despite the absolute corruption of their power. The seduction and propagation of selfish power.
I gave the tour I wrote at the Gardens. I have had to change so many things to take account of the seasonality and the planting and the new places that have opened up. Without passion, you cannot perform. Without passion, you cannot revise and relearn. All I do these days is to learn things, interpret things and share those interpretations with other people. That is what it means to have a voice and to contribute, to change this world of ignorance and apathy through education. I live the life I was expected to live – without any of the rewards.
I went to Neasden Temple today and it was the first time I ever went there. It is the most beautiful building that I have ever been inside. I am fortunate to see, fortunate to live, fortunate to be there. Fortunate that I was able to go there from volunteering in the Gardens because it is nearby. I bathed the idol in water twice, once as myself, once as my mother. My mother is Hindu. This is her religion. Inside the inner space, the carvings were astonishing. The hand of a human had created this field of worship. The hand of a human had sculpted the dream to make this place.
And then, radiant with beauty and the gift of worship, I went into the exhibition space to do with Hinduism and India. It was a celebration of our culture and our achievements, which are not given credit in the Eurocentric and hostile West. Mathematical discoveries, medicinal discoveries, astronomical discoveries, insights into the human condition, the way to live, the way to celebrate and protect life on this planet. The way of living and thinking that has been there since the dawn of time and will be there until the dying moments of the human race on earth. The longest continuous way of being in the world. I have been raised in the religions of power to be powerful. That is why I am The Tiger. It is not just a name. It is who I am. The product of thousands of years of continuing, immortal civilisation. The splendour of India.