If Durga was born today, she would not be born in a palace or temple.
She would be born in a normal house, and nobody would know who she really is,
not even her. But the demons will.
Demons don't always come with weapons. They come with advice, rules, and morality.
They wouldn't try to kill her. They would try to soften her, confuse her, and control her.
Because the easiest way to stop a powerful soul is not to fight them
it is to make them doubt themselves.
The Justice System
Why did the police ask me those questions, that I hope a woman never has to answer, but let him go? Why entrap me in your fake ‘justice’ when all you intended, was to oppress me too?
I’m unfiltered af, roaring with a loud fuck you to anything that breaks my moral code. So I got a line of haters waiting for my demise because I’ve probably embarrassed them in front of a clapping crowd campaign, then forgot they existed entirely. My family warned me to keep it shut before something bites back – but I speak up my truth, Mum. That’s everything I am.
They hit back. A character assassination worse than the prior undressing, silencing me for years. So many fake fucks I once called ‘my people’, stood by like pussies. Then it formed – my hatred for enablers perhaps more, than the monsters themselves. A contamination spread in bystanders’ protection.
But in that exiled solitude, I found my pack of loyal wolves who stand up for truth too. We fight systemic suppressions simply by existing. Now those same enabling bumlicks want to be my homies again because they see me kicking? LOL. Fuk off.
The Traditional System
Why does Tamil society’s bumbaclart aunties give a crap about my weight, GCSEs, and whether i’m fcking married or not?
Pffft like them Lankan aunties bullying me as a kid for not being a pale doll that sits at home doing shit all while my free-spirit was exposed to melanin in tropical playtimes. Or Mr K having the audacity to judge my first love for being black, while your wife and kids bawl their eyes out over your infedilities? Malcolm was loyal to me and I was loyal to him. We had the greatest love story most of you backwards pigs won’t ever know.
They tried to shove some “100% match” Ilford doctor up my ass, but I ain’t born in Puthukudiyirruppu 1963, so i bro-zoned him so hard, my mum gave up and shutdown the entire marketing plan. Then, after a decade, i found love again. Or so i thought…My mother told me, “don’t worry, you’ll be fine as long as you just don’t be yourself.” I rocked up to that engagement circus in my camo cargos and Nikes with a street dancer’s swag they couldn’t stand, and authentic Tamil speech their own son couldn’t speak. A tad bit rebellious i know, but how else was i to know that none of them fake acts were ever going to accept me for me?
I actually tried to fit that cage of restrictions within a Hindu Tamil Vellarar caste system. But no matter how much one ticks off all your external boxes, it may only blindside you some more to their false promises and the upcoming shot of Cupid’s fucked up arrow. That was the worst pain out of everything that i once thought far worse… to be metaphorically left behind at an alter that i’d dimmed my own untame to fit only to be faced with the disloyalty of the man who appeared so fearful that it would be me to commit such heinous crimes due to my wild free, but the whole time the threat was that emasculated gaslighting mofo himself.
Good thing though is that it collapsed my mum and dad’s perceptions on what it takes to find a life partner. It was never about pleasing your temporary ‘status’, it was only ever about the most important decision they never got to make themselves, to fall in love with your best and friend and choose eachother every single day for the rest of your lives and fight as one against and everything… lol let’s find out if such fantasies will ever come real.
Ain’t no way my ancestral history was tied beneath the likes of men getting away with beating up their wives while the aunties pipe back at them, “but what did YOU do to make him hit you?” No fucking way does my DNA hold onto such diabolical filth. Where’s my mountain warriors at? Inshallah, in 2027 I’m coming back to Sri Lanka to backpack around my kingdom and learn where i’m TRULY from. Take me back to my roots.
So, here you are
Too foreign for home
Too foreign for here.
never enough for both.Diaspora Blues
I’d rather die than breathe in prejudice breadcrumbs left behind by a patriarchy that believes in dowries and caste systems. Box breaker Kaj > submissive Kaj.
I got this warrior mouth from you, Mum, and this fearless neurodivergence from you, Dad. I am the only child that actually understands you both.
I have both my big brothers in me: the box breaker and the mediator. Maybe that’s the only reason I’m able to remain inside this family, as me.
90% of systemic oppression is maintained not by the monsters at the top, but by the social pressure of the ‘aunties’… or by the many more enablers who have no balls.
Time to GLITCH their data and break this damn box.
The Educational System
They wanted me to study medicine; I faint when I see blood. Thank fok for my U in Chemistry, too. Maths and Science required far too much linear thinking to stimulate my Sherlock-ed brain. I was sick at Non-Verbal and Verbal reasonings though – passed Newstead’s famously difficult IQ entrance exams and then killed it in its specialism in Design and Tech. But that couldn’t overpower my parents’ disappointment at my red flags in STEM and dwindling grades. But neurotypical teachings ain’t my territory bro.
Critical thinking? That’s my zone. I killed it in History, English Lit, and the Ancient Stoic Philosophies etched into my bones. I’m sick at solving problems. Just not the boring A-to-B quadratic formula kind. But a bridge collape in an earthquake? I’m your gal.
I hate that the school systems run for and by Neurotypicals. It takes more than just receiving extra time in exams bro (and that’s if you even manage to clock our frequncy at all) – it’s about undrstanding the full spectrum of all minds that will inevitably enter your schools, and preparing to facilitate each and every one of our uniqueness. e.g., you lot told me otherwise because I never spoke your language, but i’m a Neurodivergent genius, bitch.
Why chuck us into useless detentions back in year 7, when your responsibility ain’t just to scold us like dogs and mark a bunch of homeworks – but to TEACH us how to move through this hard as shit world. Instead of telling me off for not catching perfect A*s like your Cambridge pets, why don’t you catch the fact that I’m a damn good natural in the Arts? Instead of sentencing us as “loud rebels”, why don’t you start by asking a “how are you”? That’s what Mr Deane did – he fully pulled me aside in year 12 and went, “wtf are you doing with your life? I KNOW what you are capable of. Your results do not match your potential. Why not? What’s wrong?” – His Classical Civilisation was the only A-level i A-ced.
Children are like sponges – and yes in my opionion, anyone less than 18 years old is still a child, especially at a bubbled up Grammar School for Girls. So stop behaving like wardens and step up as our guide. Isn’t that what it means to be a teacher? Because your belief in our capabilities can make or break us. Because we’re more likely to believe your perception of us as we haven’t yet lived a life in the real world and fully come face to face with our own power. So tell us we got this, and if you don’t think we do, then its your job to fucking make sure that we do. In Tamil culture, we call teachers our “Guru”. My mum taught me that it goes:
- Mum
- Dad
- Siblings
- Guru
- Then, God.
Irony is, I could walk back into Newstead, now overqualified to teach your classes that you once kicked me out of. But naa i left that prison never to return. I only hope you lot learn: NEVER underestimate another kid again.
Don’t ever dim your light for the comfort of boring cunts.
Be a weirdo. It’s way more fun than the mask they told us to wear.
None of us have it easy in this world. We all have shit.
But we don’t get through all the shit again and again and again just to return to being some mediocre submissive bitch.
Time for you and I to wake the f up and get LIVING. Because this is our own damn story.
SHE WON'T SIT STILL OR SHUT UP 
Leave a comment