Sunday, November 17, 2013

December

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.)