tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-303397582012-01-23T04:03:39.990ZMalikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.comBlogger91100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-27977291769468475162009-10-06T11:18:00.000Z2009-10-06T11:18:02.478Z

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1159872031874972652006-10-03T10:08:00.000Z2006-10-03T14:32:31.896Z

I continued to walk keeping a steady pace. I took my pallu and covered my other shoulder, something I had seen women do, some kind of feminine way of protection, of cover. I did it almost naturaly in this situation where I felt threatened.The car, a Tata Sumo, now was almost at my level and was cruising at my speed. I turned my eyes to look towards the occupants. There were three or four figures

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com19tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1153959182050583972006-07-26T23:59:00.000Z2006-07-27T00:14:58.620Z

Last night, I opened a bottle of nice white chardonay.I looked out of the window.A couple walked hand in hand.Her heels echoed as she walked.She was very happy... she giggled and laughed.I looked at them until they were gone.Then I put on a silk skirt and a white cotten top.I put on lipstick.I put on some eye liner and mascara.I put on my heeled sandals.I hailed a cab and went to the night club.I

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1151507915200278922006-06-28T15:18:00.000Z2006-06-29T12:02:43.760Z

This is the second part of the ongoing story called Girl Talk. Please read Part 1 before from the archives. Enjoy!Lynn and me sat in a salad bar. All that shopping had made us thirsty and hungry.The young waiter came up to us.“What should I get you ladies?”She started to giggle. The waiter looked at me and then to her. He looked a little confused.He took our orders and went away.“Cute, isn’t he?”

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com14tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1151449476230647912006-06-27T23:00:00.000Z2006-06-29T12:14:01.490Z

I first ‘appeared’ as Malika on the world wide web back in 1998 and I soon discovered that were a lot of transgender Indians lurking around on the net. These TGIs (TransGendered Indians) were educated, from a middle or upper middle class urban background, English speaking or at least reading and writing basic English, they had to be, because they were Internet-wise. Most of them had either the

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1151448978791480152006-06-27T22:54:00.000Z2006-06-27T22:57:27.980Z

It has been a long time since I met my ex-wife. My cross-dressing had finally killed our marriage. After years of trying to understand and explain why I liked to dress up as a woman she had decided to leave. I had been a painful separation but she was right I guess.“I want to be with a man” she said “not with a woman”.I don't know if that had hurt me or had I felt an empathy for her. I

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1151448779314405572006-06-27T22:51:00.000Z2006-06-29T12:12:48.136Z

I grew up in house full of men. My mom was the only women there. She would lament "I wish I had had a girl! So that I wouldn't feel so lonely.Someone who would share my burden" It was true, no one lifted a finger, she would have to do everything at home. "Mom, where's my shirt? Mom where's my breakfast? Mom where's the chai?"She would say she would have liked to be like a Hindu goddess with a

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1151442168653184602006-06-27T21:02:00.000Z2006-06-29T12:13:28.776Z

Here is a step by step how to drape a saree:Step 1: First of all put on a saree-petticoat and tie it confortably tight around the waist or just 3-4 inches below (for hipster look)Then take inner end of the saree and starting from left side three-fourths accross the front-waist tuck the upper edge into the petticoat. See that the lower edge of the saree is levelled with the ground (don’t forget to

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30339758.post-1151438547592628312006-06-27T20:01:00.000Z2006-06-29T12:11:41.550Z

Closet queen, Cross-dresser, Female impersonator, Fruitcake, Drag Queen, Transvestite.Well, All those names are for me. I didn't decide that.All I know is that I wasn't asked what sex I wanted to be, when I was born. They just decided that I was to be a 'man'. So I just went about it, trying to be a 'man'. What did it mean to be a 'man'. Well, growing up with boys, fighting with them, climbing

Malikahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04771175624344841696noreply@blogger.com9