Tag Archives: mariah carey

head wrap day

“To meet somebody with the same intensity, with the same sense of time, and with the same passion–that is love.”
(J. Krishnamurti)

dear readers,

i have so much respect for the women, young and old who wear hijab in new york city. this place can be so hard on them, on us. i always say, if dc is the capital of the government, new york city is the capital of capital, capitalismo.

in college i covered my head at least half the time. in my family half the women cover their heads, with a sari, or a chuney. but in the windy cold a hijab is more practical. and when you wear a hijab, you become a hijabi.

its 1999, im in college, a hijabi in the front row of the blackstar concert, brown skinned lady for sure. its 2000, im a hijabi in the back row of the u.s. supreme court, they tried to kick me out for sure.

a hijabi today on the train, head bobbing like rain, you feelin it by jay-z on the brain, krishnamurti be feelin my pain, and so many people are looking at me main, but i just relaxed, read my book, kept my ipod hooked, and every now and then i look a few of them in the eye and smile slightly. they look relieved, their curiosity piqued. i wonder how many of them see me as the war they generally don’t see. i wonder if my smile is like a pardon, a get out of jail free.

on the streets today in my hijab, the white construction dudes are a bit less friendly, the women of color smile a bit more deeply. but mainly, folks don’t notice. and i remember, there are reasons i love new york city. even when the spring feels like a distant promise, a mirage of a mechanic shop for the sun, that gold flecked low rider who hasn’t heated up, revved on, engine humming for months.

but that’s alright, the season of birth is close enough to taste. and even though im missing cali something awful right about now, new york is my shit. the conditioning is so grimy here, you either fight back to stay present or get caught up in the rush. and i like to fight back. with yoga, learning, performing. so me and this city generally get along real nice.

peace,
roopa

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say something baby: hip hop and telling our stories

it’s time to say something.

there are signs on the new york city subways that read: if you see something, say something. drake’s new timbaland produced release, is called, say something baby. “precious,” a soon to be released movie outing a story of incest and illiteracy (based on “push”) recently blew audiences away at cannes film festival.

whether you the type to pay attention to signs or not. i think it is time to say something. time to tell your story.

seven years ago in october, i shrugged the chains of sex based slavery and said something. i said no. i said stop. i said i can be more free and more safe than this. i said this to my family, who i still love dearly (with the help of healthy boundaries) and sometimes hate. i did not know how to put an end to patterns of family based sexual violence, but i did it anyway. because it was time to say something. you can too.

say something baby.

i respect drake’s flow. video choices not so much. why was “you da best,” such a good, courageous, women loving song and such a same ol’ same ol’ objectifying video? someone needs to do a remix of that missed opportunity. but on the flow tip, drake is a writer’s rapper. with his lyrics and sound, drake is able to pull recognition, alignment, allegiance from our ears which are our eyes when it comes to music.

“say something baby,” is a message women usually don’t get. often we’re told to be quiet, explicitly or implicitly (you know when you get that look? or when you hear that dismissive tone in how they address you?). so i’m digging the message from jump, plus i’m drawn in by the opening strains of timabaland’s juice laden synth and drake’s sexy-smart-boy next door flow. there are only a couple thousand hits on the youtube of this song, but i imagine that won’t last long. especially when they release the full version. till then, ima be playing the two minute version. music is definitely my drug of choice.

here’s to saying something.

peace,

roopstar

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