the fear of contentment

01.03.2026

S: I fear contentment.

A: Why?

S: It is the hunger that makes The Tiger what he is. When you look at singers, boxers, actors, they are always their best when they are hungry for it. Not when they have made it.

A: How can you keep the hunger alive?

S: This is the fear. I have money. I have a girlfriend. I have many jobs. I have been published everywhere for serious writing. I don’t want the contentment to eat up my ambition.

A: There is one thing that you don’t have. Children.

S: That is very true. And I also do not have fame.

A: So can you not keep on with the hunger?

S: I want to see our community advance. I want to be the champion for the Dalits, the Oppressed. I want the name of our family to be known.

A: Is that not hunger enough?

S: I fear that one day I will put the pen down, that I will put the brush down, that I will put the camera down. I fear that one day I will give up.

A: You have not given up. You have been at this writing game ever since you were a youngster. However little love or reward you have been given, you have kept up at it.

S: The second book. I have not been able to work on it.

A: Your project was to find love. You are allowed to have a life. You cannot live solely for the people.

S: Gaining this love, I don’t want it to kill my hunger.

A: You fear selfishness, happiness. You fear contentment. You are allowed and deserve to be happy. Just remember The People, The Mother and The Revolution. Be the names of power, the prayer of The People, The Tiger, god.

S: We are in a race. Tiredness threatens to overcome.

A: Remember your promise. You are a man too and not just the community.

Writer Biography of Dr. Suneel Mehmi

In the contemporary landscape of British letters, Dr Suneel Mehmi stands as a singular voice bridging the rigid structures of jurisprudence and the fluid boundaries of visual culture. A writer, scholar, and artist based in East London, Mehmi’s career began in the high-octane environment of student journalism, serving as a contributor to the London School of Economics’ The Beaver and later as the Lead Editor for the University of Westminster’s newspaper. This foundational period birthed his 2023 collection, Juvenalia, and established a writing style that is at once rigorous and vibrantly accessible—a “popular academic” tone that treats the law not merely as a set of rules, but as a literary genre that dictates how we perceive reality.

Mehmi’s intellectual trajectory is defined by a fascination with the construction of authority and identity. His seminal monograph, Law, Literature and the Power of Reading (Routledge, 2023), argues that the rise of photography and legal literalism in the nineteenth century fundamentally altered the human psyche. This interdisciplinary lens extends into his sharp cultural criticism, where he deconstructs modern media with surgical precision. Whether he is exploring the eco-horror and gender dynamics of Natalie Portman’s Annihilation, dissecting the gendered power plays in the Bollywood classic Beta, or uncovering the linguistic weight of Charles Dickens’ pseudonym in his article “The Power Name Boz,” Mehmi reveals the hidden ideological machinery behind our most beloved stories.

This versatility is most visible on his popular blog, Diary of a Lone Man, where his most widely read pieces pivot from dense theory to the universal language of emotion. His deep dives into Hindi cinema have garnered a dedicated following, blending nostalgic appreciation with academic rigour to explain why Bollywood resonates so deeply with the global diaspora. Central to his digital output is an ongoing, lyrical exploration of the concept of love—treating it not just as a sentiment, but as a transformative force capable of defying social hierarchies. This philosophical curiosity is mirrored in his art book Paisley, where he serves as writer, designer, and illustrator, proving that his creative reach is as expansive as his academic depth.

Beyond the ivory tower, Mehmi remains a writer of profound social conscience. As a journalist for The Borgen Project, he has produced vital reports on the Punjab floods, pivoting from cultural theory to humanitarian advocacy with seamless ease. His work is deeply informed by his Dalit heritage, a theme that vibrates through his creative output, such as Dish of Flowering Scents (2024), where he weaves personal reflection with the global struggle for Dalit rights. Ultimately, Suneel Mehmi represents a modern-day flâneur of the archive. Through his original synthesis of law, art, and activism, he reminds us that a film, a flood report, and a Dickensian pen name are all interconnected threads in a larger tapestry of power and memory.

the dream of lateness and blockage

01.03.2026

S: I had a dream of lateness and blockage this morning.

A: What happened?

S: I was going to school. We were late. It was with a boy that had once borrowed my watch from me and then played a trick by not giving it back in chemistry class. He was a very clever white boy. For some reason, the school became a tower. It was crammed with fans from East 17. The singer Brian Harvey, his grandmother died when he was in the jungle in a Big Brother type show, and maybe the tower school represented that with its big glass windows and panopticon nature. We couldn’t get to the top of the tower. It was a blockage. I got split from my friend and was finding a way up by myself. I ended up lost in a clinical looking room.

A: Then?

S: I looked out of the windows and there was a flood. There were famous London landmarks like St Paul’s cathedral and the clock face of Big Ben floating as wrecks in the flood. Then I woke up.

A: The meaning of this dream? I know you know.

S: It is about what happened after the death of my grandmother who I was protecting, including the medical problems afterwards. It involves the death of a grandmother. East 17 also sang a song featuring Gabrielle, an interracial love song. So it is perhaps about my relationship and juggling education with it, all of my writing projects building up – there are many. Then, the flood is about my writing. I wrote about rebuilding from the Punjab floods recently. The flood would wreck London and its time, break every blockage. The flood contrasts to the blockage preventing school and education.

A: A dream of love and writing. The blockage is love and music, but also death, the death of the woman you were separated from, the grandmother who was effectively your wife that you lived with.

S: I spent yesterday talking about a separation and its effects in blocking love and connection and happiness. I have writer’s block at the moment. A dream from the mind of the lover and poet. From one that has been touched by death. By one who is The Revolution.

surprising behaviour

27.02.2026

S: I heard tell of some surprising behaviour.

A: You are quite unpredictable yourself. There are no surprises. Just acts.

S: True. You have to adapt to change. Your brain is changing all the time. You are always changing. This idea that you have a constant identity over time is an illusion. It is all contextual.

A: There are some constants. You have told me that you have always been brave.

S: It is the context. Punjab demands it. It is the requirement of the warrior culture.

A: You are patient. You are determined.

S: Age teaches patience. This determination comes from the ambition of the people.

A: They know you. You are dependable and knowable. There is something in you that can be recognised.

S: They look at my art. At my poetry. And they say everything is different from everything else. What of that?

A: Experimentation necessitates innovation and novelty. You carry Indian tradition. Is that not a continuation of personality?

S: You would have me be a me caught in stone? The versions of me on the street, in the family, in private, how does anyone know if they are compatible?

A: And you would not be you. You know that there is stone in identity. What is within creates an aura.

S: There is only my names I want to be. My names. My names are Tiger and god.

the life of a monk

27.02.2026

A: When people ask you about all those years that you studied for a doctorate, what do you tell them about it?

S: I tell them that it was a waste of time. It resulted in nothing. If you are educated in the humanities as an ethnic minority man, then nothing comes of it. They say that they are educated. In their racism perhaps.

A: But you have published books and articles! How can you call it a waste?

S: How has it benefitted me in any way? Where is my reward? Where are my opportunities? Where is my network? Where is my influence? They look at my name, this foreign name. And then they reject.

A: What else do you think of this time studying? I thought that you liked studying?

S: Who would like studying that goes nowhere? The only good thing about it is that I am writing the truth which they are too ignorant to know, despite their arrogance and their gatekeeping and their privilege of acceptance. What did I think about it? I think that I had to live the life of a monk.

A: In what way?

S: There was no money coming in and therefore no one was interested in me. There was no love life. There was no money coming in, so the range of options to do was severely limited. I was on my own most of the day studying, in quiet reflection and contemplation. And afterwards? Again, there was no money coming in. They were starving me for my brain. That was the experience that I had.

A: How did you last it?

S: Because I know that I am a genius. Because I did not expect their racism. Do you think I have been going around my whole life thinking people are racist? Not at all. When I was young, I believed their lip service that they had acceptance in this society. It is adult life which has taught me what they are. The blocking of every opportunity. Even when you pass the interviews, do the work, get the experience, still they will block you. Nobody will ever help you. Because you are not one of them.

A: You are a monk no more.

S: And I do not want to become a monk. Now I have a girlfriend. Now I have money.

A: And that talent of yours, is it still being fulfilled?

S: If what you mean is, am I still writing, am I still an author, am I still focused on producing the truth? Yes. I write for art websites. I write for the media. I am still writing on art history and working on a dissertation that will become a journal article. And you know what? I am still not getting paid for this brain which is worth millions and millions in terms of genius. What a life. It is a punishment being a genius and not a blessing. Because this world is full of morons and the greedy who do not know the real value of anything, let alone genius.

the girlfriend

26.02.2026

A: Why don’t you ever write about your girlfriend?

S: Like what?

A: It doesn’t have to be personal details. Some poems?

S: Why? I meet up with her mostly every day.

A: That one before, you used to write poems about her.

S: The only communication was through letters. And the only one that communicated was me. It was a completely different situation.

A: Come, a poem to one that is yours.

i become a ring about your waist with these arms

i become a thing with haste about your charms

you smile the roses

you give me your lips in doses

the smoothness of your body like a flat stone skipping the water

of Aphrodite the goddess you are the daughter

A: One more to end the night.

these hands about your hips

these hands feeling the hollow of your back around the waist

this thin waist of yours

my eyes in your eyes

your eyes ask for something and my eyes return the ask

your chest presses against my chest

your hair is across my cheek

and skin encounters skin

there was a thought I had

something to tell you

i have forgotten it

quest in a tote bag

26.02.2026

S: Why is everything difficult in life?

A: Don’t you normally blame other people?

S: It is usually their fault. But even when it doesn’t involve other people, it is still difficult.

A: Example?

S: Just now, I had to walk through a gloomy London in the naughty wind which was ruffling my feathers.

A: You mean what’s left of your hair?

S: And then, when I was searching for a comb in my tote bag, I couldn’t find it. It is the same thing every time.

A: The dynamics of finding a comb?

S: Sight is much more valuable than touch. Touch is confused.

A: For you perhaps. Perhaps your touch is not more adept than your eyes.

S: When it comes to confusion, is touch appropriate?

A: What about the confusion of the night?

S: To excuse touch/you do much.

A: To dignify sight/you use all your might.

S: A contest of sense/not worthy of many pence.

A: A critic sincere/who I hold very dear!

S: A Tiger by heart/Whose life is apart.

the ability to strike

25.02.2026

S: This morning, I was lying in bed. It was as though I was completely defeated. I have responsibilities and obligations to fight. That is my destiny, war. And yet, I could not get up.
A: What happened?
S: What is the point of this fight? We are fighting a losing battle. This world has been overtaken by a great evil. There are no men to fight. There are only lies and the reverse of the law, the Dharma.
A: What made you get up?
S: I have been raised in the warrior culture of India. When these here were children, they were playing meaningless games. I was watching The Mahabharata. My mother dressed me up as a warrior, as a hero. We were taught to fight, martial arts.
A: It is your mother that made you get up?
S: She wanted to give birth to a warrior that would protect Mother India. I am the one she has named after that duty. My destiny was chosen for me before I was born.
A: What philosophy is this?
S: In the Mahabharata, Krishna, whose name is mine, he said that it is the duty of the warrior to fight the war irrespective of the result. That is the philosophy of the warrior. I am Punjab. We have fought every injustice and every enemy. We are free.
A: What is this war?
S: This war is against a culture of hate and exploitation. It is a war against a culture of discrimination and injustice. This war is against a system of devaluation of difference, the lack of acceptance of diversity. This war is against selfishness, arrogance, greed and destruction. This war is against fascism. This war is for truth and freedom, for honour and dignity.
A: You have chosen this war. Forget like they do. Shed the skin of the warrior.
S: This war has chosen me. This world has wanted to kill The Tiger from before he was even before. They wanted to sterilise my mother in India, they wanted to kill the Oppressed, the lower castes, the Dalits. Yet we still stand and we stand the strongest.
A: What thought did you have when you were finally able to get yourself up to fight?
S: The voice of power came. I have been raised in the culture and the religions of power. My name is Tiger. I said ‘I am Tiger’. Then I arose. And now, nobody can knock me down. The Mother rides the Tiger. She is the One with the Tiger, Maa Sherawali. It is my honour and my duty to protect her. It is my destiny and I am the man of this destiny. I still have teeth. I still have the ability to strike.

experiencing racism

24.02.2026

S: Someone was directly and unashamedly racist to me today. In the news this week, there is racism in sport. Players are being subjected to hate crime, thousands of messages a week. In film, there is racism. At the BAFTAs, someone used a racial slur. And in politics, all you have are these racists.

A: I notice you are not swearing.

S: That’s because of the censorship board that sits there. They never censor racism. Only when you criticise racism. We all know who they love.

A: What happened to you today? What was this racism?

S: I was helping some elderly people. Then this old man asked me what my name was. He didn’t understand it, so he had to ask to read it. Then, he said ‘Is that your real name? Has it been shortened? Because when these people come over here, they shorten their names and use different names.’

A: How was that racist?

S: It’s good you asked. Because in this racist culture, that would count as normal conversation even though it is so offensive. It is racist because it was my grandfather that came over. It is racist because this guy doubted that I was using my real name, like I was some criminal or something. It is racist because he assumed that I wasn’t British and had come over recently even though I’ve been born and bred in Great Britain. It was racist because he couldn’t even accept my answer to his question because I was different from him.

A: What did you do?

S: I looked at this ignoramus and smiled at him. Because in my culture, we treat the elderly with respect. And I knew that he would never stop being a racist. If I had said something, he would have taken offence and kicked up a fuss. Because an ethnic minority man was challenging his racist behaviour. I wasn’t racist to him. I didn’t look at his skin and assume he would be a racist. I didn’t prejudge him.

A: What is the solution to ending racism?

S: You can’t stop these idiots being ignorant. They always say that they didn’t realise how offensive they were. They say that you have to excuse our ignorance. They are ignorant on purpose. They read papers that are full of hate. They listen to politicians that are full of hate. They defend each other’s racism and teach it in schools and in their films and books and TV shows. They are a culture of deliberate ignorance and distancing from anyone perceived as different.

A: Why tell about it?

S: What else is there? Except to point out that their whole culture is one of racism. Even when you are helping them, that is the treatment that you get. And when you point it out like I do? They hate you even more. Because you dared to tell the truth about how they treated you because you were an ethnic minority man.

A: Feelings?

S: Just confirms what I think of this racist culture. There is no surprise. Someone on my level should be sitting at the top of this society. I am not because of their racism. Even when I was with the one I am with, someone shouted at me in a car to go back home when I was with her recently. That is what this is.

disbelief in the london encounter

24.02.2026

S: I’ve lost the will to do. I have disbelief in the London encounter.

A: In what way?

S: Before, I used to sing, act, speak to all these different people in London. I used to know hundreds of people. For about three and a half years, I spent my time trying to meet people in London. It went nowhere.

A: And now?

S: I don’t do any of that stuff.

A: Why?

S: First and foremost, I have someone now that I spend a lot of time with.

A: You don’t need anyone else?

S: No.

A: And the other reasons?

S: It is like what I said. I have disbelief in the London encounter. These people are not friendly. You cannot count them as your close friends. You cannot rely on them. They are cold people.

A: You have never liked Londoners.

S: Who would? All they have is a friendship of convenience. They are fair weather friends. I am lucky that I am not from London. I am lucky that I am not like them.

A: But surely you enjoy acting, singing and talking?

S: Not with fake people. Not with people without a heart.

A: What about your real friends? You have lots of real friends. You told me that when you wanted a party, about twelve of your friends rocked up.

S: We all live on the outskirts of London. They are all open and generous, accepting people. They actually have hearts. Even the one I am with, they live outside of London. The irony is that all these people live in London. You think you will meet someone there. But they are not real people. The city is full of fakes. The reality of this world is that it is hostile. You don’t have real intimacy with most of the people that you meet. You really are surrounded by strangers. They call themselves human when they have no humanity. They make every excuse. I am busy. I am tired. It is too far. But in reality, they cannot accept that you are different from them. But that they exclude on the basis of difference is a good thing. Because no one would ever want to be like them.

A: You have gone from being open to becoming completely closed.

S: I will only try to be friends up to a point. When I see that there is nothing being returned, then it is all over. Then, there is nothing.