the nightmare that woke me up

03.05.2026

S: A nightmare woke me up this morning.

A: Really? What happened?

S: When I say woke me up, the nightmare squeezed me into the few seconds before the alarm went off.

A: Come, tell the tale.

S: I was working as the manager of a party. The setting was a big supermarket. Before the party people had arrived, I had to get rid of a big white machine. I was taking it to the charging point, carrying it by myself. I suddenly got called and had to drop it off in one of the shopping aisles before I could take it to the charging point. The first party person had arrived, the organiser. She wanted something in addition to what she had been promised when I tried to give her a warm reception and seemed sulky. She wanted the seating area upstairs which was empty, part of the cafe. It was not part of the contract and had not been arranged. I walked inside past the empty chairs and found myself locked outside. I tried to get back in through the door but the whole of the inside was moving upwards. The door would have jammed the movement as it opened inside and would have been stuck on the frame. I closed it just in time. I waited and then opened it again. Inside, they were shooting an astronaut film and the room was full of astronauts. I rushed past them. I would get into trouble, they would find out that I had disturbed the film. The alarm went off. I woke up from the nightmare.

A: A curious sequence of happenings.

S: Very understandable though. The nightmare is about money. It is based on several of my jobs where I manage events at various venues. But tellingly, this is in a supermarket, where the cultural industries I work in have been transformed into exploitative business and not charity. Some spaces have filming for money. Money is taking over my career when it should be about arts and culture.

A: You are having a nightmare about the commercialisation of arts and culture?

S: Precisely. And not just about the charities I work for. Also about writing. Because the astronauts are there because one of my friends is reading a book about astronauts and I read about the author’s prior book which was self-published and made lots of money too, literature as business. When I, of course, self-publish. The dream is about how my self-publishing is an interruption of work and the whole money making ethos. I am the outsider trying to get in, disrupting everything, the unwanted.

A: What about the demanding customer?

S: The philistine public that will never be pleased. The origin of the nightmare.

the money monsters

02.05.2026

S: I read with disgust that London’s Whitechapel Gallery hired an Economist in Residence.

A: What’s so bad about that?

S: She thinks that she can tell us what the value of art and culture is, that is the most disgusting thing. All of us that get into arts and culture are trying to escape from these money monsters with their bullshit ideas of value. And this London institution is hiring precisely that kind of individual to talk about what’s important and significant about art and culture. For us to be represented by these jokers. What the fuck does she know about it? Does she have any training in art and culture? This society is a joke. The people that are least able to do anything are the ones that they employ and listen to.

A: Come come now. I’m sure she’s interested in art and culture.

S: Then she wouldn’t demean it by being there to appraise its value as an economist. And pander to this bullshit fascist and idiotic government and this audience of philistines.

A: I’m sure there’s more here.

S: This society can only listen to a fake. When it comes to people that care for art and culture, live for art and culture, produce art and culture, then they cannot listen. They force us into marginalisation. They do not value our interpretations or our ideas. Because they want to keep on doing the same stupid thing over and over again. And what is the most stupid thing? Money. That’s all that comes into their rotten heads. Everything is about money. Make everything about money. They have a monomania. Their language is about money. Their ideas are about money. And these are the people that you want in the museum representing what the museum is about? These are the people that you want in art, representing what art is about? Do you wonder why I am angry?

A: Relax. There’s nothing you can do about it.

S: There is something that you can do about it. There’s always something. Do you know, when Michael Jackson wanted to shoot the video ‘They Don’t Care About Us’, which is about protesting racism and how the government mistreats people, about showing reality, the Brazilian government banned him from shooting it. So he went to the Mafia. The Mafia looked after him. They took him to the favela. They made the video happen. The disenfranchised supported the disenfranchised. I know that there are more of us.

A: You are not Michael Jackson.

S: I believe anyone with conviction, strength and discipline can change this world. Just like Jesus stood for something against Mammon, so can I. I can stand for a world of art and culture that does not rely on money. I am living proof of it. I have my own publishers. I have my own books. I have my own blog. I have my own photography and art accounts. All done without requiring money.

A: You do not have fame.

S: I have something better than the value that these cretins accord to those that apologise for the injustice and racism of this culture. I have my own self-respect and I have love for my community, the community of Tigers. That love is evident in everything that I produce. I don’t have to show why I value the community in terms of money. My love is a love that does not cost money. My love that I express? It does not cost money. And that is why I am the genuine article. That is why I am the poet, the artist, the photographer, the writer, the scholar. The genius. I am above money.

the bravery of the writer, the polymath and the anarchist

30.04.2026

A: Do you not think it is foolish to write in this day and age, to be a thinker, to be a speaker? They would gnash at you and claw your throat for expressing an opinion.

S: The mark of the writer is that he is brave. Braver than most. He expresses what he thinks with no apology. He does express an opinion. And not only the opinion, but also himself.

A: And you count yourself as brave?

S: As the bravest. Because I say exactly what I think. I am published and I am damned by them.

A: You are always boasting about how brave you are.

S: The only thing that stays the steel is compassion.

A: How brave are you?

S: It is brave to be a writer. To have a voice. To stand up against everyone. To be different. It is brave to be a polymath. To go into whatever field seems tempting and to become an expert in it. To have the bravery of the self to be able to bend this mind to anything and everything. To do degree after degree, starting from scratch every time for the long haul and to plan to do degrees after that in the future. To be a generalist in a world that insists on blind tunnel vision and specialisation. It is brave to be an anarchist. To believe in the self when no one would have you believe in the self. To go up against the biggest bully, threat and terrorist in the world which is the state. To go up against the slaves to the state and their bullshit. To go up against this world in every way. This mind is brave. This body is brave too. Everything about me is brave. Because I am the hero. I am the god. I am The Tiger.

A: Is not bravery foolish?

S: It is only foolish to be a coward. Because a coward lacks the wisdom of bravery. The truly brave, they have thought about what it is to be a coward. They have fully gauged the contempt of cowardice, its limitations. The brave are free. The coward is a slave. The coward cannot become a writer. Because he is scared to express himself and cares too much what others think, others that can do fuck all except for judge, and that incorrectly too. The coward cannot become a polymath. The coward lacks wits. The coward cannot dare different fields. The coward cannot be an anarchist. Because a slave cannot become the most powerful. The slave cannot go against the bully that is the state. They fear and therefore they obey and lick boots.

A: Boast after boast.

S: All justified my good boy. Everyone in this world searches for freedom. And I? I am free. The free are brave.

convenience in love

29.04.2026

S: The one time that I went on a speed date, all the women could think of to keep on asking about was where I lived.

A: So?

S: It was a question that did not even occur to me. Because all they cared about was convenience in love. Whereas genuine love is decidedly inconvenient.

A: What do you mean?

S: They are born into this country and this culture. And here, for love, for the most part, they want you to be a clone of them. They want you to have the same background and culture. They want you to be in no way inconveniently different. They want you to be local. They fall in love with those that just happen to be around them, whether or not they are suitable. And as to the proposition that love is decidedly inconvenient? The ones that I have loved, I would have to fight for them. I would have to give up things for them. In short, love for me is not easy. For them it is easy. There is no cost to their love.

A: They also give their hearts.

S: But with many, many conditions. I give my heart unconditionally. I am actually a hero in love.

A: What do you mean by that?

S: The story of Hero and Leander. He swims every night across the dangerous Hellespont to see her. The story of Romeo and Juliet. He fights with everyone to love her. The hero of the love story loves one that is inconvenient. His love is inconvenient. His love is not lazy. His love is hard, hard work. That is why I am the hero. Nothing comes to me easily. I fight for everything tooth and nail.

A: They do not see you as the hero. They see you as the villain.

S: In this world, if you are a real man, if you are Indian, if you are Punjabi, if you are The Tiger, this world sees you as the enemy. Because you expose their corruption through your desires and your very being. They would destroy the desire and love of The Tiger. That is what they ask him to do, to kill his love. That is their biggest demand. Yet, still, The Tiger is love. He is named after the god of love. He is love. And that is why, in reality, they are the villains and he is the hero. In this love story, The Tiger is the hero. Because The Tiger accepts inconvenience, difference, the war that is love. If in love’s war, each lover is devastated, devastated, The Tiger accepts devastation. Even if he can never win in love, The Tiger loves. Because the love of the god is endless.

the poetics of marginalisation and the counter culture

28.04.2026

A: When one reads what you write, the substance is made up of a response to rejection, exclusion, hostility, heartbreak. Can you not write anything positive?

S: Those that have been included and valued can write something that conveys the satisfaction and the security that they feel. Those that have been rewarded, accepted and loved. I can only convey my experience of life.

A: Have you ever wondered whether it is something in you which is why you are treated as you are?

S: No. Because everything that is in me is in Punjabi culture. I am not me, I am Punjab. And they have tried to marginalise and exclude and restrict Punjab.

A: You have no personality?

S: I have a Punjabi personality. As I say, I am Punjab. We are loud. We are audacious. We are brave. We are hard working.

A: How do you know that what you suffer is not just what a genius has to suffer in this world? There are many articles about this. That because you are clever you will never get on with others that are not on your same level. You cannot stoop to the levels of their superficiality, you are too intense and full of deep thought. Then, remember, you have that condition which is also not conducive to society.

S: Those articles are untrue. They are based on generalisations. I say the same thing to you as I say to everyone. You have not met these people. You do not know what they are like. You cannot judge relationships from the outside, only from the inside. Don’t try to gaslight someone’s experience of things.

A: You would make the standard completely subjective?

S: What is so objective about you, the outside observer? Are you not subjective? I trust myself more than anyone else. I know that I am the reliable narrator. It is this world that is unreliable with their tired assumptions that can never take into account racism. It is just a fact that whenever you talk about racism here, people pretend that there is something else. Always something else, never racism. Funny that. When I have found that racism is their whole society. They have nothing else. The whole point of how they live and act and treat people is racism. They are racists. That is the truth.

A: And what is the key to the poetics of the marginalised and the counter culture?

S: The key is love. We are full of love in a world that has no love. We have right judgement in a world that has no justice or judgement. We have respect and honour, enough to give to others. They don’t.

the usurper of happiness

27.04.2026

S: You know, others are enjoying the happiness that is supposed to be ours.

A: In what sense?

S: I will only speak of my own case. If anything was actually fair, I would be a household name. After all, I am a genius. I would be feted everywhere. I would have whatever I wanted. Instead, there is this. The ones that are enjoying the rewards that I should have had, they do not deserve them. They should be mine.

A: You say this with complete assurance and humility of course.

S: We have spoken of this before. I have complete confidence in myself. You know, no one can match me in a fair contest. It is just a fact. They cannot outperform me. Therefore, if anyone is chosen above me for anything it is because of the wrong reasons. Who can write, think or create better than me?

A: But because you have a chip on your shoulder, you are not chosen.

S: Who has put this chip upon my shoulder? It is them. I know that they are unfair. Because of how they have treated me and my talent and brilliance. They have never been just. They cannot be just. They give lip service to the ideals of meritocracy but they have no meritocracy. Only mediocrity and this popularity contest that they have.

A: How can you get back the happiness that is supposed to be yours?

S: There is no way. Relationships, opportunities, friendships, whatever it is. You can never get them back. Because you have been passed over out of caprice and injustice and there is no way of getting any of those things back. Because they will not come out of their inquity. They are monsters.

A: Hanging on to the things that should have been yours, hanging onto your humilation, these are not good traits.

S: They can forget because there is not this accumulation of ills. I cannot forget the mountain of injustice. I cannot forget how they have stood in the way of all my ambitions and dreams, the disappointment that I have had to live with, how they have cheated our dreams and destinies. I cannot forget or forgive what they have taken away from me and us.

reluctance to write

A: I notice that you are reluctant to write at the moment.

S: One wonders where it goes. One wonders what it does. One wonders, in short, why?

A: You have your readers.

S: Enemies and critics.

A: You have something to say.

S: Which no one wants to listen to.

A: You are The Tiger.

S: The mortal enemy of this world.

A: You cannot stop writing. They expect. They read you every day in every way.

S: There is only one reason why I write. So that they cannot defeat me. Defeat us. The Oppressed. This learning, it is for The Oppressed. This mind, it is for The Oppressed. This body? It belongs to The Oppressed.

A: Why can you not just live for yourself?

S: I am The Oppressed. I am The Mother. It is the authentic self. There is nothing other.

A: Write then for them.

S: Have you ever considered the language of the warrior?

A: What do you mean?

S: The words of a fighter are charged with energy, absolute energy. It is the fight. The pen is not mightier than the sword. The pen itself is the sword.

A: Language as a weapon?

S: Language as the fist. Language as the kick. Language as the choke hold. The mastery over the language is the mastery over the martial arts.

A: Who has taught you this?

S: The gurus. The activists. The scholars. Hindi film. They have made the writer into the warrior. And the duty of the warrior? Even when he is cut into pieces, he will fight. Even when all else have been defeated and he stands as the last man on the battlefield, he will fight. Fighting is what he was born and raised to do. It is his life. And so, he fights. He writes.

A: With reluctance?

S: The war is hard. Life is hard. Yes, with reluctance. But still he writes. Because he believes in that one spark that will light up this world. That precious one, that precious reader that will become The Tiger too. What The Oppressed pray for, what The Mother desires. Freedom.

the expression of energy

22.04.2026

A: What did and do your university tutors make of your writing?

S: They said that I was original, ambitious. They said that I went far. They said that my writing was lively.

A: What do they mean by lively?

S: After all, my writing is the expression of energy. Of total power. Of a mind that is free and does not fear. Because this is what the power of the mind is.

A: Where does this energy come from?

S: That is the question, is it not? First of all, I have always had high levels of energy. Then, we were not kept idle as children. We had many things to do. Add to that that I have always done much exercise to build up this body and mind. Do not forget the genes of the athlete and the scholar that my grandfather has bequeathed me. And do not forget the discipline that I have. Discipline is everything.

A: This energy that you have has been described by everyone around you as unnatural.

S: I am a genius. Although I come from nature I am beyond nature.

A: Is this energy that you have being translated? Is this energy being expressed?

S: There are so many pies that I have fingers in. I do the work of three men. Is that not enough?

A: Why not sit and redraft this book that you say proves that you are a genius? You keep on saying that you will do it and you have not touched it.

S: I will not kill myself to do it. They will not give me any reward for it. They are ungrateful, miserly and haters in their hearts. They are unfair and they do not reward or recognise on merit. They do not even deserve my genius. If I write this book, it will only be for us, The Oppressed.

A: The reluctance of genius.

S: All my life, I have worked for society. And what have I got for it for myself? It is a serious question.

A: But now you have everything you wanted. Meaningful work and a girlfriend. You have got something out of it.

S: Where is my honour?

A: Come come. There are many that respect you. You do have honour as well. Write the book. Prove that you are the genius that you say that you are.

S: Summer is almost here. There is only one more month. Then we will see what this energy can do.

A: Forget that you are Achilles sulking and become the greatest of the warriors. You know how important that argument is in the book. You know that you are the king of reading and the king of letters. Show the splendour of Punjab. Show them the roar of The Tiger. Show them the champion of The Oppressed.

wanting the world

20.04.2026

A: I think it is true of you to want the world.

S: I don’t think so. I imagine that you are referring to my ambitions?

A: Yes.

S: I do not want the world. That is the mark of the coloniser. The imperialist.

A: But you want the whole world to love you and to fall at your feet.

S: Victory is won over the heart. Not over land.

A: History would say otherwise.

S: In any case, having looked at the world, having explored the world, I no longer want the world. It is a detestable and disgusting thing this world.

A: What do you want then?

S: I don’t want to impress them. I am much better than them.

A: But come, tell me what you want?

S: In many ways, I want only to destroy them. Have you ever read ‘Perfume’ by Suskind? In the end, he no longer wants the love of the people. It is not enough. It is nothing.

A: What does the genius want?

S: The genius wants above all things to play the game. And I do play the games. Several games. Art, writing, music, song, photography, scholarship.

A: But you have often enough told me that you play to win. There is no winning in these games that you are playing.

S: You are wrong. I am winning against them. They would have me, through the conditions they impose, to do nothing and to be no one. To have no voice, body or soul. Every time that I make something, I am preserving Punjabi culture. I am preserving and transmitting to the next generation the spirit of The Tiger. I am winning. I always win. Because to be the authentic self is to win. To be a man is to win. To be a god? Is that not winning? The People, The Oppressed, they have chosen this champion. The one with the gift of the mind. The one with the gift of strength. The one with the gift of endurance. The one with the gift of talent. The one with the gift of genius. The one that is the champion. They have chosen the one that wins.

at the end of the long day

19.04.2026

S: It is the end of the long day. What is there to say now?

A: One can reflect upon a day, a moment, a life.

S: You ask for me to reflect? In this day, aside from work, I went upon the Cutty Sark. I went to a charity bookshop. I went to a fayre where I bought a biography of Marilyn Munroe for three pounds. I listened to music concerts all day. I went to Canary Wharf to look upon the waterfront and the big skyscrapers. I went into the parks around the Embankment. I had dinner with my girlfriend. I learnt Spanish, French, Hindi, Punjabi and Urdu. I read psychology articles. I learnt Art History. I ate a chocolate profiterole dessert from Marks and Spencer’s. I listened to Hindi music from the films.

A: Are you not tired? You have spent this whole week rushing around.

S: You know that I do not get tired. Especially when the sun is out. But as I was walking the Cutty Sark, which is a boat that is stationary, I thought to myself that this is a metaphor for self-reflection. We are upon the journey of life. But then, we take out a moment from this journey. The ship stops sailing. We explore the frozen journey, to find out where it is taking us, what it is. We become explorers of the pause.

A: Where would you like this journey to take you?

S: To the beating heart of the enemy.

A: That is your wish? You could have love.

S: One loves the enemy. One wants to clutch at the enemy. To hold them the closest. So that one could squeeze what is inside out of them.

A: Forget enmity. You are the lover. You have a lover.

S: To forget the enemy is to forget myself. I am the warrior.

A: Forget. Tell me a story.

S: Once there was this king that rinsed everything outside of himself because of her. And she watched him rinsing everything out of himself as he grew smaller and smaller. He almost became too small and she did nothing to stop him. Because she enjoyed how much she tormented him and wanted to see if there was any limit to what he would do for her. There was not. But one day, when he was at the end, when there was almost nothing left to rinse, this king stopped. She did not love him. She was not the lover. She was only one that he thought that he knew and loved. She had not liked that he was the king and would want him diminished. He cast her off. And there was so much in him that even now there was more than anyone else. And he kept on growing and growing. He was the splendour of the sun.

A: What happened to her?

S: The life of those without love is the everyday story of the people here. Ask any of them how they live their loveless lives of lies, hate and oppression. That is her story too.