From nudes to skin tones, to skin talks

Today, I sat in a talk which I thought would influence, inspire or entice me to like my supposed career path.

Here we go...

So, as I sit trying to catch my breath as quietly and as subtly as I could, the speaker is sat on the stage with a lecturer from my university in a Newsnight fashion.

At first, I heard “being the only Asian at that time,” he instantly got my attention.

He talked a lot, the questions formed by the lecturer were shit to be honest, “who was your favourite lecturer?” for example, what a time waste. If this was 20 years back is that question still relevant now? No.

I looked around, there was a mix of males and females from all backgrounds listening in to what this talk entailed. Not going to lie, I was waiting for one question. And that one question was brought up at about 13.37 when I was just about to check my notifications on Facebook.

I threw my phone into my bag.

“So I mean, erm so like would you say that the posh Asian girl who went to posh schools and received proper education is more likely to get to where you are at now, I mean working for the BBC etc…” and he went off on a dry ending as he adjusted his choking belt around his pregnant belly.

Hold up though.

“Posh Asian girl?” 

Who’s that pls?.

My neck twitched. My curls now stuck to my lip gloss.

I thought to myself…

Is this dick for real? I’m no toff, but I’m no scrounger either. But wow, that was a big dose of “fuck you”. Number one, what the hell is “proper education”, and two I ain’t from no posh school. So suck on my dick when I sit here knowing fully well I worked my arse to get to where I am, through cultural and religious barriers. Not a silver spoon stuck up my arse and Dr Khan as my dad. I want no medal, but that was insensitive and benefited no one in the room, instead he embarrassed his toff ass and grew pink in his porky cheeks.

“So how did you feel being brown, I mean is that why you got into the positions you did...?”

Lol, “feel being brown” ??  Like it’s a symptom of God’s mishap.

“It’s not about skin colour, it’s about the cultural and social background that you come from.”

I became nostalgic of that one time (in band camp) in year 10, I was pulled into an empty room and was sat at a table of Asian girls, and this one line shrieked in my right ear “don’t end up cooking chapati, we want to see you girls in uni!!” as I sat with sweaty palms and a throat full of phlegm ready to spit at this ethnic representative authority figure.

So I guess now I class as a brown face in university, and perhaps ten years down the line I’ll be asked the exact same question about “feeling brown”. Lol

Back to this talk.

The guy went on to say how he was someone who no one had come across before, he was new something fresh. All because he was a Muslim Asian male, full of ideas to make these controversial, religiously touching and political documentaries.

Okay. I can do that without having a dick.

My conscience spoke to me.

“If you’re from a background where you know you won’t get any help, it’s better to recognise that as early as possible, it’s very important.” 

Okay... 

“If you know you’re from an immigrant background, back then no one gave a shit what you thought about."

Right...

“If you are from a certain social status, or class then you immediately fall into the trap of being disadvantaged in the world of work.”

Yes I fucking get it!

I know the reality but can you give me something to take away from this please?!

Where’s my motivation? 

(Plays Motivation by Kelly Rowland.)

What I wanted to ask before his ass left the auditorium was, “where the fuck do I fit into this?”

I'm an Asian female! Does that mean I can tick a professional’s boxes like he did?

Am I supposed to seek creativity through “keep doing what I'm doing?” cos what the fuck does that mean any more?

“The degree didn't even help me where I am now, it was taking every work experience I could.”

Someone take me!!!

You know what? It fucking sucks having all the passion but no one to push you further. No Asian female that has actually made me go “woah shit, if she can do it then so can I!” Instead I'm seeing Riz Lateef presenting the news looking pretty and Mishal Hussain talking to Syrian political figures. They are symbols of success but…. I don’t see them for who they are, I'm blinded by their BBC microphones for crying out loud!

Instead, I'm behind the bars of higher education, work experience: work for other people so that I can gain a few more bullet points under the “skills” subheading on my CV.

“The BBC employs 12.4% (BAME) staff.” That stands for Black and Asian Ethnic minority people btw.

So you tell me, whether that’s deflating or motivating?

I need my bed. Where’s bae at?

*Realises there isn't one, eats cold pizza and sways to Isaiah Rashid.*

Income v Charity

So, just like every normal student who has nothing to do in their free time I started looking for jobs, left right and center and didn't get one single reply. This lasted for about a month and a half, I applied for internships stretching all the way to London as well as retail jobs in my local city center. Thing is, my mind couldn't take it no more. The efforts of going through application after application and you're sat waiting for some random Sarah to ring/e-mail you sending her regards? just no.

The need for money is always there, as a young woman its a priority to make money because I think it's part of being independent at my age. I then turned my back on money and started to think about charity. Yes, you're now thinking...that's not money. Well fuck money. If they don't want me i'm sure there's other people out there that do. I thought long and hard about the long term effects of charity work in the UK and how they influence the conditions which we see on a regular basis on television advertisements. Seeing the news about Gaza and feeling hopeless started to annoy me. So, I did the one thing I could. I simply walked into an Oxfam shop and said "I'm all yours."

From an uneducated perspective, you'd think I'm simply doing what every other retail assistant is doing but for free. Nah, I think it's much bigger than that. I feel good knowing that I'm not just helping, but i'm donating hours of my time to go towards those in need. Living in a MEDC I believe we have everything at our fingertips no matter what the struggle. Benefits, loans what have you. I am just another impatient student who needs money as a means of immediate gratification. I know I need money to get by, but I broadened my horizons and thought I am a university student. My education is the passport to a future career, but for now I could possibly save lives in countries that need it more than me. 

I chose Oxfam because I trust it. Their work isn't a 3minute advert between Come Dine With Me.

They contribute towards girls' education in Pakistan which combats the problem of gender inequality and equal rights. A challenge that my own mother faced. Also they have concentrated on midwives in Ghana, they've helped distribute tissue, water and soap to prevent diseases in Kenya and they continue to promise change in many other countries in crisis.

Money comes and goes. I hope to have a stable future once I have completed my degree. So, being part of a charity and knowing I can impact other people's future's for the better is a blessing. 

Finishing my first year at uni

(Note: 23/05/2014)


Within the first year of uni, there were lots of expectations that I didn't think would come along with the experience.


I didn't think I would click with two friends I didn't think I would make friends as easily as I have. I didn't think I would build my wall of a career that doesn't really seem solid at the minute. I didn't think I would bump into people that may potentially be in the rest of my life. I didn't think I would be handling money the way I am now. I didn't think I would be laughing as hard or falling as hard as I have a few times within this year. I didn't think it would get so deep that I would shed a tear and I didn't think I would abandon people who actually meant something so strong.


As loud as I have been the entire year was so silent. In a sense that now, sitting on this burgundy leather sofa in Sainsbury’s I can hear everything getting louder. I can hear children crying, I can hear a middle age crisis but above all I can hear myself. I'm screaming "why” Why did I experience the things I have, and why to such an extent that I have grown so much. Not in height, but in my mind I feel so much wiser. I feel like the experience has made me tougher than ever before. I have lived away from my family, my own mother, the one woman who introduced me to the world. This world of terror. Absolute terror.


I don't write these thoughts down so that one day they can be published. I write them because I truly feel that my words speak louder than anything that I say. At times like this, I have spent so much time understanding, I have spent so much time listening, I have then contemplated 'doing' and well let's say this is my journey.


A chapter of my journey that is soaring through thick pages. The pages are getting heavier and I'm getting tired. I just hope that something comes along and motivates me. I have a fire but it's not bright enough. "Hell is hot and fire is proven" words of Kendrick Lamar.


Yeah well, I'm feeling the fire, so I guess I was born on Mars.

My motivation is going up and down

Okay time-out.

Let me just switch my phone off and think for a second.

I don't communicate well when I feel things getting on top of me. So I believe the best way to deliver my thoughts is to just write on here.

I have been through many applications and interviews lately, specifically within the journalism spectrum but I just have this feeling. Like, this feeling of not getting it. I don't care if you're rolling your eyes as you read this but I help the way I feel right now. Opportunities are endless, yeah..well so is disappointment. I mean, I know that's part of the journey to success. You're supposed to fail continuously until you reach that level of content. But, it's so much to handle. I have my mind set on just getting a position, somewhere, I don't give a bollocks if there's money or no money.

"I used to care about money until I realised money doesn't care about me." - Skepta

Yeah, I just read that on my twitter feed. It's so accurate for me right now.
I don't even know where I will be living next year.
I don't know where I want to go with my degree.
I don't know who's supporting me and who's not.

That's the confusion I feel right now.

I went for an interview yesterday and I was asked if I have a blog. I answered yes. Referring to my other blog which I use as a platform to showcase my work at university. Of course I know I should expand on it more. But, really? I am so indecisive. It takes time for my mind to settle for something.

Right now, I know I can't wright. I just know I can't. Even the people yesterday said my title ideas weren't so captivating yet the content sounds like it has potential.

Well...what the fuck does that mean. Just tell me i'm shit and i'll be gone with the wind. (fabulous).

My writing style isn't for the elite. It's just how I write. I write how I want to.
And if I feel incredibly passionate about something I write even better.

So what the heck. Lord knows where I am going with this right now. But I just want to get it right. I just want someone to finally realise "fuck, she's serious".

Probably the last post of 2013

I am sat here after eating the combination of a a hot sweet Latte and a ginger biscuit. I am now warm, sat at my usual spot in my room. Once again, I look around and everything, every inch reminds me of a memory I have had. Whether it was last year...or years before that.

I have a colour piece to write.
(Sake..why is there a red line underneath 'colour' *sigh* American's trying to be funny again.)
Thing is...our module is so corrupt, that we literally jump into new forms of writing without any proper preparation, perhaps that's their way of testing us? I dunno, it aggravates me at times, because... 1) I know I'll be penalized however I write 2) incorporating my ideas into professional prose is not my thing at all.

If I write..I do it out of my own feeling, my own will, the way I want to, not the way you want it. (Sigh) Going into the professional field is daunting, it just makes you realise that you will be pushed around, regardless of whether you will like it or not. Just now, I read on the Guardian that Al-Jazeera journalists were killed in Egypt. *Looks up at the sky* Why..oh why did I have to read that? I need motivation...not a heart attack.

*Laughs at self* My back is against the radiator..that is switched off...lord help me.

Yeah blah blah 2014 in N hours..whatever. This is, yet again, the time when people start to make resolutions and try to stick to them, then fail after the first 12 hours. Will I have one?..I don't know. Do I want one?...Yeah that'd be cool. It would be nice to have a goal and stick to it..then celebrate emotionally once I have accomplished it! Well this year, my aim was to get to university..TICK. Maybe I will have to look back at my previous posts...I am sure I have written something about my other goals for 2013.

This is the time to sit and stare out of your window and just breathe. Because Semester 2 is going to bite like a female dog. I can feel it, I am prepared. I just hope I get my work done without all the drama last semester. It was amazing though.

Semester 1: "Get to know" Semester 2: "Now you know"

^ That's how I like to put it. Okay enough of university... (sometimes it feels like that's all I talk about)

Where am I at? Well I went to Motown *screams*. I had to Google that beforehand, but yeah it was nice. Just to get away again, that rebellious feeling of just going out. *looks up at forehead* *devil horns start to appear* I shall base my Colour Piece on that night.

It was crazy, middle aged people dancing among Mia and I.  Us, just swaying our way through all the Soul bangers, from Jackson 5, to Marvin Gaye. Does it sound wack? Well it wasn't. You had to be there..the endless attempts to push past the crowds at the till, drinks menus stuck to the bar and drowned in liquor. Spot lights, green, pink and yellow blinding everyone around you, the squared dance floor guiding your every move, mums and dads laughing and cheering, guys in groups peering at the girl with her jugs on show, plasma screens displaying the current artist, the DJ's fingers steaming off the Vinyls, lonely drunk men...hallucinating their ex wives probably. Lipstick stains on the bathroom mirrors, floor sticky and sweet, drink straws hanging onto your shoes, cigarette smoke outside the doors, a fit guy with an Afro and septum piercing..he had a girl on either side of him (urgh), tragic clothing on this woman looking 60...a woman with faded blue hair...faded because she is a mother of twins at home you see...an African uncle peering over the crowd..our eyes met twice and I shivered both times...oh and Ryan Dix..an old school friend haha.

I could go on but if I am really honest I cannot be bothered, my finger tips are going blue and I need to turn this radiator on. Other than that, a banana is waiting to be eaten. That was not a sexual innuendo...but if you laughed I hope it was silent and if you didn't laugh...then you are very mature I envy you.

Bring on 2014 woohooo.