Categorized | Taboo

Standing Still on South Asia’s Slippery Sense

Posted on 02 June 2010 by .

The other day, when my people were not looking, my battered body met with its broken bones. We met at a time not known to the clock, a time when my body took its bones back into its care. We wept at our condition and we knew that we had our pain performed on us. Something that did not make sense made my people believe that my bones and my body needed to be fixed. In trying to straighten me and fix me, they battered my body down until my bones broke. I knew it was my fault for allowing  this to happen; I should have sensed better. Instead I slipped – I said I was queer. What is worse for my people is that I haven’t learnt my lesson. Just before my people were ready to look again, both body and bone decided to speak again: we are queer, Ali is queer. I decided not to make sense any more. I decided to walk across South Asia’s slippery sense with a sense of defiant hope. I am still standing.
People of the place of South Asia, what you have read is a history of the moment. How can I renounce the past of the present?
My body and bones are matter in motion, and it matters that I trace their travels. It is in these travels that I have found the essence of my existence. This makes me of interest to my people. Every time they try to take my find away from me, they have failed. I am still standing and they cannot find me.
People of the place of South Asia, how can you fix a word without knowing its meaning?
My people have yet to find out why I call myself queer. Yet they think they can fix me. They seem to believe that being queer is all about having my brains stuffed in my balls. It is quite the opposite. They slip in their own sense. Without knowing what they are looking for, they mock me for being queer. They think they can fix the word without even knowing its meaning. From body to bones, they try to fix them all. Instead they break it. Yet I am still standing and they cannot find me.


People of the place of South Asia, what is it about what you know that makes you think that you know all that needs to be known?
My people don’t know my experience and when I introduce them to it, it’s the shame of their ignorance that brings them to arms. The fear of having their knowledge challenged is a fear that fuels their existence. Each whack on my body, my bones moves with the power of their fear. They think they can make me meet their fear through my own body and bones. They trap me into slipping, slipping out of my sense into their sense. Yet I am still standing and they cannot find me. People of the place of South Asia, why do you mock me for simply not conforming, for simply being queer? Is choosing to be a writer over an engineer a crime of such extent?


I have said what I wanted to say. If you thought that being queer was all about what I said then you know that a word wounded you only because you thought it did. The act of being queer caused you to react. How could you react without even knowing the act? This is why I am still standing but am now letting you find me.

South Asia has a very slippery sense of how I ought to be, and I will not allow myself to slip. I want you to slip, slip until you realize that your sense needs to make way for the sense of the other. It’s the only way I will cease to be the other, the rest within the rest.

Author:Ali Abbas

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