{"id":8988,"date":"2016-05-16T11:00:38","date_gmt":"2016-05-16T05:30:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak?p=8988"},"modified":"2018-08-22T15:23:43","modified_gmt":"2018-08-22T09:53:43","slug":"love-under-cctv-swipe-right","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/love-under-cctv-swipe-right\/","title":{"rendered":"Love Under CCTV + Swipe Right"},"content":{"rendered":"

Love under CCTV<\/strong><\/p>\n

i<\/em><\/p>\n

I’m slowly learning how to not be afraid<\/p>\n

While kissing my boyfriend<\/p>\n

In the secluded adult fiction corner of a bookstore on 15th street<\/p>\n

And when our lips meet, and our fingers curl around each other, I always look up<\/p>\n

At the CCTV camera and smile<\/p>\n

For the voyeuristic<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

ii<\/em><\/p>\n

My boyfriend taught me how to disengage from a fight<\/p>\n

First you smile, then you slowly walk away, and in your smile, they know you won somehow<\/p>\n

They didn’t understand<\/p>\n

My boyfriend taught me how to type messages<\/p>\n

For my exes, telling them I loved them, but I just didn’t understand why I liked men more<\/p>\n

Type them, but not send them<\/p>\n

For no one deserved an explanation for my love<\/p>\n

But me<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

iii<\/em><\/p>\n

I’m slowly realising why<\/p>\n

Councils tried and stoned men in Arabic countries, why the Old Testament called us an abomination, why three thousand students walk<\/p>\n

Every year, placard in hand, demanding freedom from 377<\/p>\n

I’m slowly realising why some men would fear<\/p>\n

If others found love<\/p>\n

While they remained bitter, over pleasures they never understood, and women they ignored<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

iv<\/em><\/p>\n

But we still walk with pride, and we still kiss in bookstores, and when people stare<\/p>\n

We smile and shrug<\/p>\n

My boyfriend and I, hold hands, even between the sheets<\/p>\n

And I’m slowly learning<\/p>\n

Our love is like walking barefoot \u2013 muddy ankles and no high heels<\/p>\n

‘Cos the neighbours think it’s pretty gross<\/p>\n

But those fuckers don’t know how his body feels<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

\"\"<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Swipe Right<\/strong><\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The first hi was the trembling of leaves<\/p>\n

On monsoon mornings<\/p>\n

When the rain dug holes on sand<\/p>\n

And my toes, flooded, as water rushed in through the hole under my school shoes<\/p>\n

My first words came rushing like the<\/p>\n

Metro at Moolchand<\/p>\n

And when you laughed, a little, blushed,<\/p>\n

A little, it was like the sun had peeked<\/p>\n

From behind the buildings of South Delhi<\/p>\n

Your fingers traipsed between your curly<\/p>\n

Strands of hair, and you said<\/p>\n

I should go, and I said, alone?<\/p>\n

You laughed, and<\/p>\n

I felt a sudden stirring in my thighs,<\/p>\n

At your laugh, I wondered, could<\/p>\n

Something happen, between one-and-a-half hour<\/p>\n

Old acquaintances?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

But another half an hour later, we<\/p>\n

Were in bed, together, in your<\/p>\n

Room, a hoarding of Sunny Deol<\/p>\n

In a vest overlooking your north facing<\/p>\n

Window, and on the wall,<\/p>\n

A painting of horses, swaying<\/p>\n

Under the fan, like my heart<\/p>\n

And as you undressed slowly, my pants<\/p>\n

Felt as if on fire, and you bit your lips,<\/p>\n

And my breath was hotter than<\/p>\n

Summer winds in Ajmer<\/p>\n

Every minute, my heartbeat raced, till you<\/p>\n

Took off your bra, and I let my<\/p>\n

Hands fall to my sides<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The room suddenly felt awkward, and<\/p>\n

Sunny Deol has always been my least<\/p>\n

Favourite, and one and a half hours,<\/p>\n

Isn’t enough, to decide about<\/p>\n

Third base, besides, I like<\/p>\n

Smaller breasts more, I think<\/p>\n

—<\/p>\n

Cover image courtesy\u00a0Cl\u00e9ment Belleudy (CC BY-SA 2.0), s<\/em><\/span>econd image courtesy Jason Pratt (CC BY 2.0)<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Two poems.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":179,"featured_media":8997,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1,671,8],"tags":[11,349,676],"class_list":{"0":"post-8988","1":"post","2":"type-post","3":"status-publish","4":"format-standard","5":"has-post-thumbnail","7":"category-categories","8":"category-relationships-and-sexuality","9":"category-voices","10":"tag-poetry","11":"tag-romance","12":"tag-same-sex"},"menu_order":0,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8988","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/179"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=8988"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8988\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":8998,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/8988\/revisions\/8998"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/8997"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=8988"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=8988"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.tarshi.net\/inplainspeak\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=8988"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}