Name me not As I am TABOOED!!
NAME ME NOT… AS I AM TABOOED
I was a piece of art and I was the flaw. I was one of them but I wasn’t “one of them.” It wasn’t their fault or maybe it was but I was too lost to decide. I blamed everybody. I cursed the nature for molding me into who I was; a wretched ignored entity. I blamed people for alienating me out, for making me question my identity, my reality and I realized my existence too. Death wasn’t a choice and living I was afraid of. I didn’t want to be me and yet I didn’t want to be “one of them”, as if I had a choice. I was lost and dragging myself on all fours just to see one ray… one tiny ray of light that was supposed to bring life to my dark hopeless world.
“Where have you been Uzair? What are you planning in that thick skull of yours? I don’t keep you under my roof just so you can web stories all day long! Give me the money.”
“Abba… nobody was willing to pay me today.” I stared at my broken shoes trying to pray, pray that my father forgives me today, just this once.
“You pathetic mongrel! This is all you have? I wish you had died the minute you were born. You killed your mother. Now you are trying to take away what little I have. You are worth nothing. I should have thrown you out. From the minute you have set foot in this house happiness hasn’t looked our way.”
Every day the same routine was followed. Taunts and blames, these were my baby sitters; always had been. Sometimes he didn’t even hesitate to hit me. He hit me so hard that I could barely move. Every part of me ached and I tried to stifle my cries but I had befriended the pain long since. At least it was something that gave me company when all others had left.
I am Uzair and I am a born hermaphrodite. The moment my mother gave birth to me she passed away. I didn’t get the nurturing and pampering a mother is symbolic for. All I had of her was this orange ‘taweez’ that she had especially made for me to keep me safe from all evil. I still wore it. My father didn’t want me to keep it and told me that I didn’t need it.
“Who the hell is going to do you bad?” He kept reminding me that I was a curse and my mother was in a better place. Had she seen me, she would have never forgiven herself for bringing me into this world. And I believed him. He was my father after all. I was sorry for being such a disappointment and tried to do everything in my power to make him comfortable but I was ‘labeled’. Days were turning into years and I still hadn’t found my identity. Begging was the only thing people wanted me to do. They turned away at the very sight of me and talked in low, grumbling tones. I was scorned at and people rebuked me every chance they got. I wanted to shout out to everybody asking them what was my fault? I craved their company but I was a nobody. I had realized that my death would be as silent as my birth. I would dissolve into nothingness and nobody would be there to visit my grave or even give me a second thought.
One day as I stood on the Murree Road spreading my hand and calling out duas in that noble tone I had been taught which was supposed to melt the hearts of passersby only so that they could provide for my father’s drug addiction, a car stopped in front of me. The door opened and a black suited man stepped out.
“Assalam o Alikum. I am Dr. Aslam. What is your name?”
I stared at him in disbelief. No one had ever bothered looking at me and now here was somebody who was asking my name.
“Uz…Uzair. Sahab Ji.” I stuttered.
“Uzair. You have a nice name kid. How old are you? And where does your father live?”
I muttered in a low tone, “18 years old Sahab. We live in the Kachi Abadi G-9 sector.”
“I want you to do something for me Uzair. Here is my card. My clinic is nearby. I want you to tell your father that I want to perform a surgery on you. I can make you alright again. I will see what we can do for you.”
My heart fluttered as his words reached me, vibrating and resonating; I couldn’t believe my ears. Suddenly that balloon of happiness popped, “Sahab my Abba doesn’t have much money. We can’t afford a surgery.”
“We will pay for it. You don’t have to worry. Just ask your dad to come and see me. Have a good day. ALLAH hafiz.”
And the car drove away.
My heart skipped a beat or may be more. I was on cloud nine. I couldn’t there were still people in this world who cared. Father would be so happy. He will have the son he had long hoped for. We will be a family like all others I had seen. I couldn’t wait to tell him. I had to go home now. He wouldn’t say anything if I don’t bring any money. He’d be so happy that he will forgive me.
“Look out.” I heard somebody shouting from far away. Before I knew something hit me hard in the stomach. “Aarrggghhh…” A split pain shot through my body. I was lying on the ground and could hear people. “Call 911 quickly. He is losing blood.” But nobody dared move. They were staring at me; all of them, like they always did. I was used to it but right now I just wanted them to stop the pain. I could feel every part of me screaming, tearing away and then there was blackness.
“Have you heard? Four new bodies were just brought to the dissection hall. Our first dissection class is soon to be. Sounds cool right,” Fahad told his friend.
Amir looked at him in a meaningful way, “Oh yeah I went to take a look. Did you see the one near the end of the room. There is this kid with an orange ‘taweez’ around his neck. His eyes are wide open. I think nobody was around when he died or they might have closed them. Guess what I saw? You won’t believe it. He is a ‘HERMAPHRODITE’”.
‘Wow I didn’t even know they were brought here.” Fahad could only look at his friend in disbelief, shaking his head, muttering about there always being first times.
Drowning in tears of rejection
I seek to belong to somebody
A desire burning deep in my heart
That thirst can’t be quenched by just anybody
Looking around, I lose my peace
Who am I? Why I am not at ease?
You name me not, I am tabooed is what you think
And bit by bit, I lost myself to nothing.