Sunday, November 17, 2013


We will walk around holy fire for seven circuits,
make seven oaths in front of Hindu gods.

I will mark your forehead and hairline with red sindoor,
plant a baby in your body.

Finally I am locking you down.
You are mine and only mine. 

Monday, November 11, 2013

Random thoughts

I am still not quite in my place, intense working schedule before the big Indian wedding vocation, plus a restless mind.

When people ask me what do you think about India, my answer now is, "it's complicated". I am struggling in a complicated relationship with India. I've seen it, I've seen the best, I've seen the worst.

Every time when I picture it as my going-to-be future destination, my mind goes blank for a few seconds.

If it's only about me, all I can have is excitement. But as a single child, I will have to think about my parents, I still couldn't tell them the truth of our future plan. Luckily India and China is geographically much closer than America and China. We will find out a way, like we always do.

I don't know where I belong, I don't have roots. So wherever I go, I make a little home, and try to enjoy the moment.

It's very ironic, the building where my wedding is going to be hosted, I experienced minor sexual harassment there. "Sexual Harassment", it is not a phrase which could bother me anymore, but it followed me for more than ten years, from a child to a girl.

Whenever I walked in a dark street, saw a men ten meters away heading my direction, I couldn't help trembling. I was not raped, not even stripped naked, but the month-long damage took me years to repair, with no one to tell.

Stuck in a narrow tunnel, dark and cold, suffocated, I crawl and crawl, there was no ending, couldn't feel the light, I woke up in fear and tears.

At least when I was screaming, my mom and dad were there to take me to their room. So I never actually tried to kill myself, just some thoughts sometimes.

For the past one month or so, I haven't expressed myself in Chinese, no tweet, no blog, I do not wish to. You can say it was due to the massive attack a month and half ago, or maybe I am just tired of it, after all these years. Debates always turn vulgarly abusive, general opinion always lead to personal attack.

They hate me, wish to shut me up, only because I marry an Indian and in love with freedom and equal rights. Why can't we discuss about it with mutual respect? Tolerance is something the country took away from us.

As an evacuee from authoritarian regime, I am still on my first few years to build up constructive thinking, from zero ground. If my knowledge and capability of independent thinking reflects a 14 year old kid who grows up in a free country, most of them are less than 10, not all, but mostly.

Internet gives them a mask, they find the "weak" ones for their emotional outlet, only because they are weak.

And I say it, I proudly say it, my mind is only equivalent to a 14 year old child. So what? I will keep exploring and developing, I have no rush to grow old. If my immaturity wins from time to time, only because I am true to myself. As long as I am not ashamed of myself, nobody is on any "high ground" to judge me. And I will never be ashamed of myself. I never regret on anything I do.

This is also something I grew out from my sexual harassment experience.

In a way I am grateful to my haters, unless a person faces such harsh situation, nobody knows where is his/her limit, how much he/she can take.

They fed me, made me stronger.

I guess my battle continues, no matter it is in India, in China, in here, or in myself.

India is a beautiful place, unimaginably rich, rich with culture, rich with spirituality, rich with love. This is also the reason why wealthy America can't make Raj stay.

Love is all we want, love is all we need. Love is home. 

Thursday, November 7, 2013

Mad Girl's Love Song

Sylvia Plath (1932 - 1963) 

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead; 
I lift my lids and all is born again. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red, 
And arbitrary blackness gallops in: 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed 
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade: 
Exit seraphim and Satan's men: 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 

I fancied you'd return the way you said, 
But I grow old and I forget your name. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.) 

I should have loved a thunderbird instead; 
At least when spring comes they roar back again. 
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead. 
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

Wednesday, October 30, 2013


I was not aware that I would be confused for so long. As of this very moment, life seems lost its taste to me.

Where am I? What am I doing? What do I want?

I am that kind of a girl who gets whatever she wants, a good family, capable daddy, top universities, traveling around the world, a line of people to love and spoil me.

All these years passed, now I am going to be 29, I find myself asking this question more urgently and desperately: what's the meaning of my life, my existence?

I still couldn't give an answer.

I try to find out what is faith and belief, I read Gita, I read what is the selfless duty. All this abstract ideas are understandable also appealing to me, but my life is right now in a warm and colorful bubble, Berkeley is an unimaginable dream place.

I fear I might have lost my ground.

People seek courage from my stories: never hesitate to fall in love, fight against family and society for their prejudice, ditch the major after 6 years of study and keep chasing for dreams.

But when the time I start to feel everything is coming as I ever wished for, I feel lost again, even more lost than before.

In my eyes, most people are asleep, some trapped in the basic human needs, some a level or two upper, same struggle, different kind. But then, what is my position to judge? I still feel ashamed to look back the time when I was utterly brain-washed by communism propaganda. Now which level I've woken up to and trapped in at the same time?

Raj spotted me right across the hall, this pretty little girl with an angel smile. He has never let me gone out of his sight ever since. He always knows what he wants, and determined to get it. He has big dreams, to change the society, change the world.

Does it make my life's purpose then?

I've always been the crazy one, the madness, the misfit, the unbelievable. I do not wish to set up examples, but I wish to express myself by exploring new things. I wish to find myself.

Ironically, that's when I see her lost, from time to time.

I thought happiness is elimination of sadness. Now I know confusion, emptiness and uncertainty can co-exist with the maximum amount of fulfillment one can imagine.

I am not crying anymore, but I couldn't forget. I touched my own face, the glamorous red lips. "I am your stranger, jump!"

I should thank Raj who is always there for me, who gives me freedom and takes adventure together with me. But I know it's also my own soul, the soul of a rootless gypsy, unrestrained like horse, free like bird.

If we are just souls who dwell in the bodies, when the body moves, it's our souls which meet and share a moment, a moment could be traced back to previous lives.

As in Buddhism teaching, "500 times of glancing back in the past lives, only to trade an acquainted smile in the present life", I cherish each every person I meet.

Even when I am aimlessly wondering the street, repeatedly asking the unanswerable question "what's the meaning of life", as long as you need me, I will be there, to hold your hands, to tell you, everything will be ok.

Thursday, October 17, 2013


Men can have it with no affection, women can not,
and she is even different from most of them,
living in her own imaginary world.

She's been crying.
There was no beginning, no end,
all of a sudden, it was lost, lost in darkness, lost in silence. 
She couldn't help crying.

World is a mad place,
some shut their doors,
some match on with pride.

It's not her then, if she didn't feel for it.

She could fall for it,
his eyes,
and how he sees the madness of being.

She's been crying.
There was no reason, no explanation,
why gods even made it happen?

What's the meaning of life then,
if we start to question the gods above?
She's lost.

But she will carry on,
with faith.

Love is a battlefield.

Wednesday, July 31, 2013



不晓得其他人如何定义幸福,对于我而言,幸福是他出门之前在鞋架旁的亲吻和叮咛,是我书桌上那个总是被他装得满满的水壶,是周末在沙发上拥坐着一起看的纪录片。凡是有接触过Raj的我的中国朋友,对他有一个统一的印象,“Raj特有意思,特搞笑”。闭上眼睛,脑海里闪过的多是他搞怪的样子:我回到家拿钥匙开房门,纳闷他明明在家为什么不来帮把手,推开门的瞬间,发现他就站在门后,面对着我,像受惊了的猫一样愣在那里,前伸的脑袋上,惊愕写了一脸,呆立三秒钟之后,忽然同时挥动手臂、扭动大腿,并摇晃胯部,很认真地跳起了自己瞎编的印度舞,一边念着“baby,honey,baby”;我们俩一起在厨房做饭,一会炒炒一会切切,不免撞来撞去,我说,“把你的屁股挪开”(move your ass),他一动不动定在原地,把头转向我,很诡异地瞟了我一眼,接着手举锅铲,幅度夸张地扭起了屁股,嘴里哼唱着“yes, yes”;平时说话最爱故意模仿印度乡土口音,比如把以字母“s”打头的单词读成“es”,estupid,esmart,eschool,在印度这么发音比较普遍,因为很多人发不出字母“s”开头的音,但宝莱坞电影里不时把这样的发音强加到没受过教育的穷人身上,于是他常常一口纯正的印度穷小子乡土英语,“你今天特别yi-s-mart”,“我不想去yi-s-chool啊”,“你的便便为什么这么yi-s-melly呢?”,把我笑得前仰后合。也许是因为印度载歌载舞欢天喜地的民风,和他一起生活了四年,我的心也渐渐轻了许多,不再时常沉重。





















Wednesday, June 26, 2013


















Sunday, June 23, 2013

Freedom, comfort or money

If a nation values anything more than freedom, it will lose its freedom; and the irony of it is that if it is comfort or money that it values more, it will lose that too.


-- W. Somerset Maugham

Thursday, June 20, 2013

Tagore to Gandhi on non-corporation movement in India, 1919

“I have always felt, and said accordingly that the great gift of freedom can never come to a people through charity. We must win it before we can own it. And India's opportunity for winning it will come to her when she can prove that she is morally superior to the people who rule her by their right of conquest. She must willingly accept her penance of suffering, the suffering which is the crown of the great. Armed with her utter faith in goodness, she must stand unabashed before the arrogance that scoffs at the power of spirit.

And you have come to your motherhood in the time of her need to remind her of her mission, to lead her in the true path of conquest, to purge her present-day politics of its feebleness which imagines that it has gained it purpose when it struts in the borrowed feathers of diplomatic dishonesty.

This is why I pray most fervently that nothing that tends to weaken our spiritual freedom may intrude into your marching line, that martyrdom for the cause of truth may never degenerate into fanaticism for mere verbal forms, descending into self-deception that hides itself behind sacred names. "

--Tagore to Gandhi, on non-corporation movement, 13th April 1919

I am a strong supporter of non-corporation movement, as well as a seeker for truth. Tagore tells the ultimate truth through the above lines, it wet my eyes. India was lucky. Hope the superiority of spirituality marches on.




-- 摘选自泰戈尔给甘地的信 1919年4月13日 



对于这些分歧点两人虽然始终各执己见,一度处于辩论的模式,但并没有影响到之间的友谊,两人对对方依然报有最大程度的崇敬之情。虽然有很多甘地的追随者质疑“一个诗人凭什么对领引印度走向独立的伟大运动有这么多意见?” 甘地从没有轻视过泰戈尔的意见和想法,在泰戈尔去世前四年的1937年,两人再次见面,认为他们的想法其实是大异中的大同。

在看这本叫《圣雄甘地与诗人泰戈尔的历史信札 》(The Mahatma and the Poet: Letters and debates between Gandhi and Tagore, 1915-1941)的书信录,我常常看湿了眼睛。我想印度有甘地这样带领全国以非暴力的方式走向独立与民主的政治家,还有泰戈尔这样执着于追求真理与自由精神的思想家,思想家还能与政治家平等对话,并牵制住政治家,印度是无比幸运的,这种幸运甚至超乎了我的想像。

Tuesday, June 18, 2013




在美国生活,平时不太爱给母亲打电话,一般都是打给父亲,算好时间差不多到一周的时候,往母亲手机上打一个,希望最好她在外面办事或者是在打麻将,因为如果她在家里,没有旁人,话说不出几分钟的时间,她就会开始厉声责骂我:“你平时不要发癫做那些乱七八糟的事情,写什么鬼东西,上什么乌七八糟的网,不要瞎了眼睛整天说中国不好,中国现在只是在发展初期,而且你是瞎了眼睛,被美国洗了脑,好的你都看不到,你这个叛国贼。” 如果有旁人,她从来不提这些,更不会提印度,只是提醒我“不要发神经”。最近博客上那篇《中国人眼里的印度人》被新浪推荐了,引来超过5万的阅读量,父亲平时上网,我写的东西他每篇都读,我给他打电话商量这个情况的时候听到母亲在一旁斥责,最近一个月我都不怎么敢往她的手机上去电话。












可惜我还是那个把小说压在五六本课文下面三行三行挪动着读的倔强小孩,我后来考上了厦大,在父母的意志下选择了金融而不是新闻或者文学,随着青春的流逝,早先被这个社会踩灭的当作家的梦想已经渐渐不那么清晰了,但我的脑袋却没有一天停止过吹着泡泡。我依然恐惧于给母亲的手机打电话,依然每次还需要十到二十分钟来平复心情,而且我知道她的想法永远都不可能改变,这样的对话和争吵将伴随我一辈子。但是渐渐地我也有了读得懂我的文章的朋友,有了珍惜我的想法的同仁,还有这个最爱我的却不懂中文的老公,每次用Google Translate阅读被机器翻译得面目全非的博文,然后发自内心地赞叹一番,并骄傲地分享给他的所有朋友。他最爱读我写的与印度家人见面这个系列,几周前读到我笔下的小姑妈的故事的时候,他红着眼睛给小姑妈打了电话,告诉小姑妈我专门为她写了博客,顺便核实了一下重要事件的年份。Raj时常对我说,“你独特的视角和细腻的笔法让我看到了另外一个印度,让我重新思考自己的成长经历与周围的人和事,让我对女权、人权、平等这些概念都有了更深切的了解,所以我很感谢也很感激自己能遇到这样的你。”


Wednesday, June 5, 2013

India's prostitution/sex slave industry

India has more sex slaves than any other country in the world. India's caste system is divided into many subcastes, many of which are tied to a particular job, including prostitution. These women are fated to be prostitues. A girl born to a woman who comes from that part of society where prostitution is traditionally-accepted way of life, she doesn't know how to think anything else, she just accepts it as part of her fate. A lot of things go on in the name of tradition.

The caste system is totally a watertight compartment, you are just born into it, you can't make any movement, generation after generation, all the women in that subcaste become prostitues, and nobody thinks that it's anything unusual or horrendous, or it has to be stopped and challenged. The Indian society has always chosen to look away, nobody wants to see it, nobody wants to do anything about it...

One of the global paradoxes is that countries with the most conservative sexual mores tend to have the most prostitution, these are also countries where women have very little value...

Indian brothels are among the most brutal in the world, one of the things that Indian brothels periodically do that brothels in the other parts of the world don't is they will kill girls there who are uncooperative. As long as the victims are poor, rural, female, illiterate village kids, they are disposable, they don't matter in the system, they don't have a voice.

According to the Central Bureau of Investigation's statistics in India, about 3 million women are trapped in prostitution, of this 1.2 million are children. The average age of entering into prostitution is 9 to 13 years old, and the National Human Right Commission in India is saying that the ages are coming down.

In India trans-generational prostitution is very normal, women prostitues often force their 14-year-old daughters into taking clients because women who are in prostitution have very little ability to make their daughters aspire to be something different, and it's not that the trans-generational prostitution happen because they want to make it happen, but because they have no option, they have no escape...

-- From "Half the Sky" documentary

Sunday, May 5, 2013

Amazing Safari Adventure at a wildlife ranch in Texas

It was truly amazing... We watched also feed bunch of animals including Aoudad, Gemsbok, Springbok, Barasingha (from India), Addax, Emu, Ostrich and Llama...

It was our first time experience to see most of the animals. After being so close to many gentle and tender wildlife, we felt very very happy for several days. Even now, whenever I watch the video, I would have a smile on my lips.

Animals share this planet with us, they are our friends, it's our duty to protect them.


Wednesday, April 17, 2013

Battlestar Galactica

Finished watching "Battlestar Galactica", it is truly the best sci-fi series I have ever known. Maybe the whole story is just a one night dream of Gaius, or it's all coming from his imagination, in search of answers to human race's never ending questions: Who are we? Where did we come from? and Where do we go? Are we humans really "deeply flawed" as greedy, selfish and faithless creatures who always turn into self-destruction?

I don't know the answers. But I know when I saw the blue planet Earth coming from distance, I was out of breath. This is our home, we should learn to appreciate her and protect her, even it's against our human's ugly nature.

Friday, February 8, 2013

Lana Del Rey - Ride

I love this girl... 

This song makes me think about my two years in Europe
not equally crazy
but, I've been there

My time in France and around, has shaped me
in a way it was even beyond that

it was a rescue
from endless nightmares
waking up in the terror of getting lost
Where am I?
What am I running away from?
Why the dreams reveal more truth?

What is the truth?

Something was wrong
I'd always sensed it

Even I took the hard way
even I went a little too far
I had found some answer
 to my never ending questions
there the place far away from home
there the place closer than home
there the place I belong

Monday, February 4, 2013

With or without you

What you are singing about, maybe I understand maybe I don't 

With or Without You 
by U2