diary of an intellectual prostitute.

Well...im out of my fathers rehab/programme to make me straight as an arrow,white friday kurta-sheep boy...could they invade my purple? no not really...Ironically my therapist has turned the whole thing around and rendered it invalid and useless...hes a real wise mother...he used to be a marxist but now hes in my mothers sufi silsila...smoked pot throught college and university and now what? he chants the beautiful names in the presence of camphor,musk and sandal...All the hue and cry about me crashing and burning,about my self destructive tendencies,about my unhealthy abstractions,about my unfounded liberalism,about ,about my perverse romanticism,my headspace,my gender issues,my bohemian radicalism...all these things turn to a new rainbow when he talks about them..with a swerve of his hand he named it bullshit...suddenly after a few hours with him...all these diseases that they had pointed out in me seem like gifts...im painted you fuckers!not tainted!
Although you have no fucking right what so ever, but would you trade me for a modified car-driving,papi chulo listening,mujra watching macho boy?NO! you hate that boy aswell...but imagine if i was that boy...would you put me in a programme then? NO! why not? is that not uglier?
what is this hypocrisy? My therapist says, self improvement is masturbation...not in those words but still close to tyler durden ;)
Daddy...daddy never prayed...oh but preached...preach preach...always order..never beseech...a lazy angry boy...thats what you are...and now when we go for nihari...i have to start the fucking conversation while you make that hurt/grieving face of yours? You're wounded father?
welcome to the club? If i have a fucking disease than im pretty sure i caught it from you...You who has been running from the scarlet from the purple...you who has been pushing away the feminine...
the empathetic...the nurturing...running so hard you crashed into me..into mother...and thats why your wounded father!
if i ever wounded you it was the wound of a warrior...what you gave me is the wound of an angry fool...if i made you bleed..it was intentional...and even neccasary for my sanity...but when all through my childhood i bled smiling you were unaware...caught in childish skirmishes with mother...
When i showed you a mirror of the ugly beast inside you, you came at me...but i know sweet father...you werent hitting me..you were trying to break the mirror...is it really so ugly the image of your past...oh ofcourse not to you...because as you said once,wife beating was a sport in the glorius golden days of the punjab...i forgot you are a fucking rajput afterall...aurat ko nahin maro gai to kis ko marai gai pyaaray?
And I think you were right...maybe i dont have the ghairat you were talking about...but i have something else that i find a lot more valuable...
Empathy,Respect and Equality...know that they are?no? thats ok i'll explain...didnt expect you to :)...You see if i date gaarls and taaak to them on the phooon...i wouldnt give two hoots about my sister doing the same,so yes im not a good ghairat mand bhai..but you know what i am? not a hypocrite....thats equality for you...When I have a clash with my spouse i will not beat her up infront of my kids and paint a scene of colonial correction performed by the great virtuos sovereign...Thats respect for you...i will call out my spouse by his/her name like a HUMAN BEING deserves to be called....the last word requires to long lesson believe me...so lets just leave it there...aap itna hi karlain Bohat hai...
So who needs a program really? me or you?
all that bullshit about me being a disapointment...Welcome to the fucking club daddy! your pretty late but its still nice you came...i've been here since my tiny pink eyes opened!