Love's many mysteries

Yes, I know I am writing after forever and I confess I have all the intentions to be more regular here but sigh ! facebook is eating into my creative self expression big time. So i reserve this space for something more exclusive and particular like the post that's about to follow

Have you ever had one of those moments of epiphany when you see much more into something others just cannot? I have had those many times and my analysis is flavoured and hued by my Mumbaikar brain more often than not in such times. Here I was sleepless like almost always meaninglessly online and transferring songs to my 2 gb Mobile phone memory card. I decided to hear one of many songs from my 30000 odd mp3 collection.  My next step ahead was much like  any other internet addicted idiot box less person . I searched for the song on youtube. While i was searching for "Yeh dhuan" from Charas with Namrata shirodkar grooving amidst smoky hills of manali, I landed up on Dia Mirza and Emran hashmi crooning "yeh dhuan dhuan sa rehne do" with brilliant piano rendition by Richard Clayderman( an artist who I have worked with in past and goes without saying that I am in awe of).

So I decided to see the song since I like to music despite the fact that the film it belongs to is sheer disaster in second half due to director troubles. I had  conveniently forgotten the genius of Anurag Basu ( director of the flick who discovered his cancer illness during the filming of Tumsa Nahin Dekha  - flick in question) and vulnerability of man who is still a roguish boy really (Emran Hashmi  - the lead actor).

The song struck to me like a tonne of bricks had fallen on my half drunk head - thanks to two pegs on old monk i had gulped on saturday night as compensation of missing Gay bombay parties I frequent. Let me sum things up for you.  What  has always appealed to me about the basic plot of this flick is that - it sets premise of a poor bar dancer girl and richie rich boy in love coming to terms with their reality. The girl lives in hope of finding someone who would love her and also marry her to redeem her from the stigma and embarassment of her vocation.  The boy spoilt by abundance thrives on need to fulfill his whims and fancies including that of having the woman he desires and loves with him as cherry on the cake he hasn't quite enjoyed by himself.

The conflict sets in when his grandmother refuses to offcially grant sanction to this love story and threatens to take away his much seeped habitual riches in case he pursues marriage with the bar girl. This leads to something unheard of in Indian cinema atleast. Our man clearly admits his weakness to the girl he loves that he cannot abandon his luxuries for being with her. He wants both and thus offers her to be his mistress for insane sum of 4 crores, which would solve all her issues. She does not need to be a bar dancer anymore or  be looked down upon by others as money silences all wagging tongues. Now it is upto her to either support him in getting engaged to a girl of his stature just as a social farce or to demand what she longs for - marriage and status as a wife. ( i will come to my connection with this point later)

It is at this juncture that the boy says yes to being engaged to the proxy girl but invites the bar girl to come to his engagement as well. She comes there apprehensive and vulnerable as his love is something she can't do without and here on starts magic of these two people - Anurag Basu and Emran hashmi.

The technical aspects of cinematography and framing compensate for poor production value associated with Vishesh Films ( a  production House i both adore and get irritated with for their matter of fact approach to movies). Lighting is brilliant and our boy  expresses his helplessness and passion first discreetly while playing piano like many other rich brats we see in hollywood . Its the effectiveness of this under rated actor's expressions and the tenderness of music and lyrics that build up the momentum. As we move ahead, full throttle vocals of roop kumar rathod hit you like a sudden gush of cold breeze awakens a person traveling sleepily. I was pleasantly surprised at poise of diya mirza (definitely directos's input) which is complimented by technique to show her silent in the party but singing in her fantasy. To each movement, verse and action,  her bar girl character is responding almost in her mind's eye (vision set in picturesque lonavala valley).  Interesting to say the least how the continuity is blended well and the core of the story and its characters maintained. Surely, a bar dancer would not openly revert to advances of her lover if she is attending his engagement. He continues and she silently partners cos her love is above all.  Her will to be his wife, his actions of hurting her by proposing her to be his mistress - dont exist in the moment where they both ask for the time to just be dewy and hazey just to say what their heart wants to speak to each other. Their expression of love is silent but very visible.

Now i will let  you watch it before explaining my perspective apart from cinematic brilliance of the moment so well built

So now that you have seen the passion and heard the melody, I can share that My ex is married to a girl. Before marrying her, he shared it with me that he needed a family and  was not strong enough to alienate his family by choosing to live with a gay man.  He needed me by his side as he feared rejection from the girl's family and I stood by him till his proposal was accepted. I had an option to have him dependent on me  for lifetime and stay  as third angle but I chose otherwise. I would have had all that I had dreamed of but without the tag of being his life partner, which I didnt agree to.

my questions ensue...

As a urban resident of this big bad metropolis, do you think she should compromise her love for just a title of mistress instead of wife even though she will have the man she loves by her side, looking after her and her woes of being a girl who thrives on skin show coming to an end?

Do you think the man who does not attempt running away with her and then failing,  becomes any less a human?

Do you think it dilutes that spark in eyes when you see that one face in crowd that you long for , if your life is as complex as of these characters?

Do you think in a city like Mumbai, there wont be straight or gay versions of these lovers anywhere?

Do you think any of us have any right to judge any two individual's life and chemistry because of their choices?

Do you think if the character or I had chosen to be with the man who needs his marriage along with love on the side, would we be any less human?

Do you think amongst love's many mysteries - one of them is that denying yourself the proximity of your lover is most difficult no matter how wrong is the choice?

Please think and respond :)

Ode to the Nice Guys

This rant was written for the Wharton Undergraduate Journal

This is a tribute to the nice guys. The nice guys that finish last, that never become more than friends, that endure hours of whining and bitching about what assholes guys are, while disproving the very point. This is dedicated to those guys who always provide a shoulder to lean on but restrain themselves to tentative hugs, those guys who hold open doors and give reassuring pats on the back and sit patiently outside the changing room at department stores. This is in honor of the guys that obligingly reiterate how cute/beautiful/smart/funny

/sexy their female friends are at the appropriate moment, because they know most girls need that litany of support. This is in honor of the guys with open minds, with laid-back attitudes, with honest concern. This is in honor of the guys who respect a girl’s every facet, from her privacy to her theology to her clothing style.

This is for the guys who escort their drunk, bewildered female friends back from parties and never take advantage once they’re at her door, for the guys who accompany girls to bars as buffers against the rest of the creepy male population, for the guys who know a girl is fishing for compliments but give them out anyway, for the guys who always play by the rules in a game where the rules favor cheaters, for the guys who are accredited as boyfriend material but somehow don’t end up being boyfriends, for all the nice guys who are overlooked, underestimated, and unappreciated, for all the nice guys who are manipulated, misled, and unjustly abandoned, this is for you.

This is for that time she left 40 urgent messages on your cell phone, and when you called her back, she spent three hours painstakingly dissecting two sentences her boyfriend said to her over dinner. And even though you thought her boyfriend was a chump and a jerk, you assured her that it was all ok and she shouldn’t worry about it. This is for that time she interrupted the best killing spree you’d ever orchestrated in GTA3 to rant about a rumor that romantically linked her and the guy she thinks is the most repulsive person in the world. And even though you thought it was immature and you had nothing against the guy, you paused the game for two hours and helped her concoct a counter-rumor to spread around the floor. This is also for that time she didn’t have a date, so after numerous vows that there was nothing “serious” between the two of you, she dragged you to a party where you knew nobody, the beer was awful, and she flirted shamelessly with you, justifying each fit of reckless teasing by announcing to everyone: “oh, but we’re just friends!” And even though you were invited purely as a symbolic warm body for her ego, you went anyways. Because you’re nice like that.

The nice guys don’t often get credit where credit is due. And perhaps more disturbing, the nice guys don’t seem to get laid as often as they should. And I wish I could logically explain this trend, but I can’t. From what I have observed on campus and what I have learned from talking to friends at other schools and in the workplace, the only conclusion I can form is that many girls are just illogical, manipulative bitches. Many of them claim they just want to date a nice guy, but when presented with such a specimen, they say irrational, confusing things such as “oh, he’s too nice to date” or “he would be a good boyfriend but he’s not for me” or “he already puts up with so much from me, I couldn’t possibly ask him out!” or the most frustrating of all: “no, it would ruin our friendship.” Yet, they continue to lament the lack of datable men in the world, and they expect their too-nice-to-date male friends to sympathize and apologize for the men that are jerks. Sorry, guys, girls like that are beyond my ability to fathom. I can’t figure out why the connection breaks down between what they say (I want a nice guy!) and what they do (I’m going to sleep with this complete ass now!). But one thing I can do, is say that the nice-guy-finishes-last phenomenon doesn’t last forever. There are definitely many girls who grow out of that train of thought and realize they should be dating the nice guys, not taking them for granted. The tricky part is finding those girls, and even trickier, finding the ones that are single.

So, until those girls are found, I propose a toast to all the nice guys. You know who you are, and I know you’re sick of hearing yourself described as ubiquitously nice. But the truth of the matter is, the world needs your patience in the department store, your holding open of doors, your party escorting services, your propensity to be a sucker for a pretty smile. For all the crazy, inane, absurd things you tolerate, for all the situations where you are the faceless, nameless hero, my accolades, my acknowledgement, and my gratitude go out to you. You do have credibility in this society, and your well deserved vindication is coming.

Fu-zu Jen, SEAS/WH, 2003

Love for a Metro Sapien : Love aaj kal

No drama, no frills, no nervous breakdowns on soulmate's marriage or break up and moving to other city, No hamming I love yous being thrown across the screen to show how two people and their lives are connected by a simple yet incredible emotion called Love. For a friday bollywood release produced by a filmstar and directed by someone who had just hit big time with his previous movie, Love aaj Kal comes across as breezy, profound and yet very very earnest.

I will try to keep this one short cos most of the time, my friends sleep through my technical and emotional connect with films that comes across as a review. So lets start with basics: Story. At story level the movie will sound absolutely plain, tasteless and bland. Like last year's Jaane tu ya jaane na, heres where screenplay takes over and paves way for dialogues. They may sound corny, maybe too much, too soon but this movie has got some very casual cool conversational lines that just connect to audience, to situations and characters without trying too hard. Just like Saif's character is advised in movie to stop trying to be cool and that's when you become cool, Imtiaz Ali and Saif have cracked this movie and its coolness quotient by not being wannabe. No preaching here, no judgements being passed by director on his characters... he lets pre marital sex, break ups, decisions of their life be natural as characters progress in the story. This leaves audience with no will to judge but only to know more about them, see the movie.

Well i am in love with the movie, cos it took me back to junctures in my life, made me relive my tongue tied farewells, impulsive decisions to be practical and let someone who might have been my soulmate go by. Now for a summary - Deepika is amazing, she lives the panache of her character and it shows. Big doe eyes help her in a character who speaks less but understands more. Saif is super duper and i think after Salam Namaste and Omkara gives one more honest performance.Pritam's music is well used though two songs are just mandatory to take the story ahead.

Cinematography is great. Editing is patchy but i choose to look over it. Duration wise the climax maybe bit of a drag cos nothing dramatic happens there (oops a spoiler but you can only see the movie if you are not expecting any high jinx). Rahul Khanna and Vir Das might have been wasted but thats also okay. Rishi Kapoor doesnt have significant much to do but is pleasant to have him on screen here.

For me, the beauty of this film is its earnesty. Hero gets beaten, heroine is independent and is okay with break up but longs for hero to marry her or see her off at the airport. Its like us. People like you and me today. It reflects us. its a mirror that shows our flaws and asks us to correct. it also shows what we have and do not appreciate. It shows life of a metro sapien, who could be anyone. It shows how conscience remains the same. We all want to love and be loved no matter what the pretences our lives bring upon us, the truth remains.

Love aaj kal is a brilliant film. Thank you Imtiaz Ali for making my belief in Indian film industry stronger. For all those. Thank you Saif for not hogging the screen time like Kamal Hassan while producing. Thanks to all who made my evening a bundle of mixed emotions and left me pondering and questioning about this four letter word , how it defines me as i define my love and what it means to me today

mohabbat aur main

Tha shayad junoon ya khel koi, sab samajhe ke pyaar tha
Khayalon mein sawaal liye chalta raha dil mera beqaraar tha
Har aahat uski sunke dhadak jaaya karta, jaane chahat pe kyun na iqtiyaar tha
Kuch lamhein khamosh se, kuch hansi se goonjte hue, har kadam pe uska intezaar tha
mila jo woh toh shartein apni chod gaya, mera naseeb uska karobaar tha
karta raha main bekhud hi uski marzee, apni khushi mein mile uska gham is baat se mujhe inkaar tha
bozhil safar ho gaya kuch durr, main kya bataata usse ke tujhse milne se pehle main kitna khush gawaar tha
Badhtha raha hoon main us raaste pe humsafar dhoondne jahaan ajnabiyon se hi sarogaar tha
Aaj tuta jaise saaz koi, sailaab aaya jo armaanon ka, na kashti, na koi nakhuda, main beech majhdhaar tha
Haath chutt gaye aur na alvida kiya, lab bhi na khule, ek aansoo keh gaya main kitna bezaar tha
Maanta hoon woh manzil nahin tha meri, to kya hua ke woh aur kuch na ban saka, woh saathi nahin tha par phir bhi mera yaar tha
Rukke poocha khuda se yeh bataa kya meri tamaam umra ki mehfil, meri tamanaon khushiyaan ka har pal tere liye koi tamaasha - ek hasraton ka bazaar tha?
Baraste aasmaan ki boondon ne chua, chedte hue suna gayii ke teri talash ek awaara pan hai, safar hi tera maqsad hai - saath nahin, tu hamesha se hi khaakgaar tha

To love or not to love (It was love part 3 - Finale)

“Long time! God, just look at yourself” he said.

I couldn’t decipher whether he meant it in a good way or bad. Breaking away from embrace I looked at him in the eyes and was sure that he wanted just to express how good it was to see me finally. It wasn’t about me turning skinnier or fat (our heated debates about my unhealthy lifestyle and eating habits were the last thing on my list when I planned this impromptu trip).

Lost in my thoughts I could just respond to him to begin the conversation but impatience got better of me.“How have you been?” was all that I could come up with. The devil within me was chortling at the irony. The most romantic gesture of my lifetime just went kaput due to a meek pick up line but who has ever required to impress his / her soul mate.

We moved quickly from the lobby to his room, which was warmly lit and cosy, surprisingly arranged like his bedroom (in what used to be our home in Bangalore). Since we both were ending our days, after small talk about the journey, return time and the wait I have had, we began settling on the couch. I headed for a shower while he decided to speak to his sister and mom, who would be excited about the outcome of his soiree.

I could overhear him talk anxiously about her parents and their thoughts about this matrimony. Amidst water jets and the gushing sounds, I drowned my regrets of him being with her in his thoughts even now. I cleansed myself of the insecurities of sharing him tonight with S in spite of her absence by lathering my aroma therapy body wash generously on my small form.

I stepped out fresh and dressed in shorts to find him changed into his nightwear much like our nights back at Bangalore. He had finished his conversation and was surfing channels trying to find some cartoons as he always liked. I walked past him, opened the window and lit up a cigarette overlooking the poolside soaking in the serene view in spite of the noise of television. As per my habit, next step would be turning on mellow music and sitting for a long conversation but I did not act on my impulse to do so but invited him to join me in looking up and playing join the dots with stars in the sky.

He invited me in return to sit next to him on the bed with a pat on the mattress and I went almost without a thought to be by his side on the white giant only to ask him about food, which he had of course had but I had avoided on the flight due to my restlessness. He opened the fridge, handed me the nuts kept on top of it knowing my fondness for salted cashew nuts and asked me “I don’t have vodka here but beer. Would you have it or want me to order vodka for you in spite of your early flight in case you intend missing it”

His cheeky remark made me loosen up and I reverted with “You are like one of those stingy hosts!” He mumbled “Buddhu Bachcha” – his nickname for me, which I hadn’t heard forever. At that very moment, I moved past all my fears that anyone can ever take away from us what we share – our bond, our friendship, our chemistry and our love.

We sipped our drinks and spoke of our lives and plans ahead facing each other on the bed for the next hour or so obviously knowing that the clock was ticking and our time together was reducing with every movement of its hands.

I was tired from whole day’s work and by now was resting with a pillow below my legs and one behind my back when he moved and placed himself instead of the pillow behind me. Soon we were pressed against each other and it happened. We kissed. An electric bolt ran up my spine by surreal nature of this moment. I had wanted it to happen ever since we broke up or rather from the time I had left him behind at Bangalore before he moved back to States a few years back. None of my kisses ever since were as true as this one. It was happening now and I was kind of numb with disbelief till I snapped out and showered him with all I had in store for him.

I did not want to waste a moment in sleeping this night but my body didn’t permit. I woke up so many times in the night just to feel him lying next to me, his warmth, his eyes and his body were all mine for the last time unless life had saved any of its miracles to get us back together. But wasn’t this a miracle. I was celebrating life and all it has to offer without regret. I kissed his forehead while he was asleep and said I love you in his sleeping ears, hugged him and went back to sleep only to wake up in morning and find him ready.

He couldn’t come to leave me to airport but this time the hotel car was waiting for me. He had called for it thoughtfully- one of his traits that I just adored was that surprises and gifts run naturally in his system. In the next 15 minutes of repacking and giving 100 advices for him to take care, I embraced him a few times but surprisingly there was no longing or pain of final farewell. He walked me to the car. I bid him goodbye and smiled my way to the airport and in flight. Sun was shining more brightly than yesterday somehow and I was listening to ‘Someday’ by MLTR on the iPod he had gifted. Suddenly I got goose bumps and my heart swelled with joy of the knowledge that I had something no one can ever snatch or threaten, something beyond the control of whole universe and its forces – my love and ability to decide to love or not to love. Thankfully I had decided in favour of it and stuck by its results and its end. Would I love again? Well, for sure, yes.

Love and last night (It was love part 2)

"Come here! We will find you a hotel" yelled the rickshaw drivers outside Hyderabad Airport as soon as they saw me. It was 10 pm, supposedly an unearthly hour for an Indian small town but the presence of these gentlemen in big numbers told the story of this town being ahead of many a metro we don’t look beyond.

I knew my destination but did not know the way to get there. All I could think about was the end i.e. meeting him after forever and maybe for the final time. Soon I bargained like a citizen of Telangana region and rattled all the names of landmarks and vicinities that R had sent in his email guiding me how to get to his hotel.

My heart was beating fast and my mind swung between why I had agreed on this trip which was completely insane and all the insecurities I had conducted for an abstract four letter emotion called love. I knew that right at this moment, he was away at dinner with the family of a girl he had chosen to be his life partner. Somehow I was devoid of even thinking how much I had longed to meet his family especially his mother who he compared with me day in and day out when we were together.

It didn’t matter anymore. I was soaked in his fears of not being accepted, of not getting what he seeks from the depths of his heart and of not finding a way out of a life he leads into a life he desires. I didn’t know how and I yet don’t know when the realisation had seeped in that I cannot be happy unless he is.

I was soaked in his fears of not being accepted, of not getting what he seeks from the depths of his heart and of not finding a way out of a he life he leads into a life he desires. I stopped the driver at a medical store, bought a deo and somehow found myself for the first time in life asking for a packet of condoms. It wasn’t as if I was readying myself for the big night of romping, when I had exactly 8 hours to spend with him apart from the to and fro from the airport

It was a sheer wish to be with him in every possible way this last time that made me pass a chasm of my self imposed taboo and lines that I had drawn throughout our relationship. All of it had past its validity date and reasons

I reached the hotel before he was back in his room and thus I was early by a good 30 minutes for him to end one of his most crucial evenings and for me to see him. The time passed under the gaze of a receptionist who saw me casually dressed and cherubic faced at one of the top business hotels of Asia. She was curious of course about the nature of my visit but couldn’t afford to ask.

Browsing through the pages of ‘Brothers Karamazov' and praying for everything to go well, I passed, minutes by repeatedly glancing at my watch and listening to songs on an ipod, which he had gifted me years back and which I hadn’t separated from myself even for a day.

Anxiety got better of me as I couldn’t even call him to check and risk putting him in a spot. Our meeting had turned clandestine and we were now in rendezvous of different sorts from our earlier affair. I walked out and decided to take a quick look at the hotel premises only to find myself seeing every car that came with the hope of his arrival.

After a while and when the car count reached about a dozen, he arrived with his future family. I was far but could make out that he was extremely happy with the force in his handshake with the girl's father and the vigour of his farewell wave of hands to say goodbye to the girl's brother.

Somehow I couldn’t see the one who was now supposed to play my part in his life. They left and I found myself impressed by his preparations to impress with a black dinner jacket and formal trousers et al. something very rare that he would reserve for do-or-die affairs.

I was glad he was giving his all to this relationship. I found myself surrounded by a strange contentment with this knowledge. He was proceeding fast towards lifelong happiness rather companionship from the looks of it. I was satisfied looking at him taking that leap, driving an extra mile without begrudging anything or maybe it was just the discovery of that peaceful space within me where I buried my restlessness and anxieties springing from not seeing him for a long time but wanting to do so all this while.

I was almost hidden by the plants standing as just an anonymous silhouette in the dark night. What I saw was his happily ever after without me in it. This made me more conscious of the awkwardness of the situation I was in.

I didn’t know for the first time what to say to him. I didn’t have to. He turned to me in spite of his future in laws being within the sight. He walked towards me with his million dollar smile while I was melting from within from the heat of various thoughts running in my head and a rush of blood to my heart having seen him finally and of course the hot June breeze of the Deccan plateau.

He embraced me tight and more than being glad that he did so, I wanted him to ensure that his future life partner wouldn’t see us. It would be really awful if any of his desires got ruined because of me or us. In a minute after the Reddy family had disappeared into countless patches of green surrounding the hotel, his grip hadn’t loosened and I found myself responding.

I clutched him right under the gaze of receptionist and the doorman who had been observing me for a while continuously trying to figure the story. I closed my eyes and did not want to open them ever again. This was my moment. This was my love and its last night

(To be continued in next part)

It was Love (part 1)

It was love. It didn’t seem like it on day one but yes it still was. This series is narrative of my most cherished relationship. Hope you like it

My phone rang at 2 am and I stretched my hands to pick it unwillingly, just to avoid the noise. As I answered the phone, the voice on other end said Hi love, Rohit here. It took me a whole minute to realise it was indeed him on the other side. All I could remember now was that we were in our off phone calls phase , which was a regular feature after our break up a few years back and that he was breaking the ice with this call.

He was in India. He sounded excited and I on the other hand was struggling to make sense out of my words and sound sane. I realized Hyderabad was not exactly the city where he would find friends to talk to at this hour and no one from Bangalore - his native town in India would speak about what he wanted to discuss. He was visiting to ask for hand of his lady love in marriage.

Last time we spoke, he was at his scared little school boy routine fearing the outcome of her family knowing he has one false eye, which only a few people in this world knew including me. It was a big deal when talking of marriage as though him being North Indian was not enough to put them off. I remember when he told me the first time about it lying in bed by my side, all i thought was It doesn't change you one bit for me. Why should my love for you change if you have one false eye? Well, I have a false tooth cap over my cavity on left side of my jaw. Don't punish yourself love by thinking it makes you any less than anyone.

But I guess I couldn't tell him now what I thought and I had to make do with some statements about him being more than his physical self and a properly functioning body, its the mind and the heart that matter equally. I geared up for my agony aunt type counselling session inspite of my sleepy state and told him that he need not worry as he was perfectly loveable. I told him that his actions bore testimony of what he had for her in his head and his heart.

There I was talking to my most cherished lover encouraging him to jump to the other side of fence because I knew what family and the girl meant to him. It's not like it didn't hurt me but I was immune by now. Being with him on our roller coaster relationship, I had to be stronger as the moment required it.

He proceeded to mention that it is the first time that he is putting all that he has on stake including his big ego. Traveling from US for a girl was something unthinkable when in his 3 year relationship with me he had visited Mumbai only twice for weekends, when we had been as close as heartbeats through that time. I knew it was difficult for him in the face of his friends boycotting him due to his expression of interest in a girl and his willingness to begin a traditional family after years of alternative lifestyle. They saw it as a criminally convenient route that most Indian gay men take.

None of them had any idea, how Rohit had always been the kind who learns from experience and trying to fulfill all his dreams was the only way to go for him. He never believed in gay relationships and was happy with just one night stands till we struck a chord. Now he was ready for the next change. They weren't. I was not sure if I was but knew it nonetheless that I would break his heart into million pieces if I stood along with the world holding him guilty for his pursuit of happiness.

What we spoke for rest of an hour is blurred in my memory but I remember we weren't ready to keep phones even after an hour of sharing updates on lives, what we dislike in ways we react to people, situations and moreover what we see right in each other's lives. Somehow our conversation wandered from him and me to us. We had not seen each other for many years now and needed healing from all the burns of our break up which hadn't yet been fully cured. Ever since we had ended up fighting on phone, chats and emails every time except this conversation tonight. He took a pause and said I miss you and hearing it made me melt within and jump at the same time and I replied I miss you too honey.

With our near choked voices, we were fumbling to express our desire of seeing each other just once and when we did, I thought that its silly to think of meeting him now and like this. Every time my inner voice said no to his insistence of my traveling to Hyderabad to meet him for the last time, I felt guilty for denying myself an opportunity i had been waiting for. In middle of his offer to pay for one side of airfare and my pleas of not being in any state to bunk work that morning, he suggested that I take the evening flight after work and offered to book tickets online right now.

I knew that now was the moment to end the call, I promised to try and see ticket availability and to inform him over email about the schedule since he was not carrying his US cellphone and leaving a message in his room would not be a great idea in his absence. After saying goodbye and cutting the phone, I asked myself if he deserves this and got a reply that I deserve to see my love after so many years.

I took the evening flight and landed in a city where I had never been. While I was trying to find his hotel that I had never seen on roads I did not know , I realised the reason for this quest. I knew once again that this is love.

(to be continued)

Nostalgic nights

Holding your hands and walking in the clouds,
my days were full of joy, so full of you.

Soaring in the sky with wings of your dreams,
My moments flew in vivid nights, our nights

Listening to your heartbeat, a rhythm so pure
I was touched by an angel, not fallen of course

Thinking of your ways and sweet smiles,
My blues just vanished as you filled my space, my horizons

As you open a new chapter of your heart each time,
I believe we met cos we were destined to

Treasuring togetherness, a boon of your presence,
My life seems now more complete, sculpted to perfection and blessed by him

Summer days of contradictions

It’s a sunny day today. Pleasant and familiar, taking me back to the idle afternoons of childhood and discovery of many joys in boyhood. My world as a child revolved around my home in a sleepy suburb of Mumbai. Somewhere close to the mean madness of the metropolis, my township provided me ample of adventures to last one summertime after another.

I witnessed my best friend’s upbringing in a cliché south Indian fashion where life ideally is as simple as an idli. The formula to follow is to bury your noses and more into books while in school and college and at the most learn carnatic music, bharata natyam or join a chess club if inclined towards extracurricular activities. Simultaneously my Punjabi upbringing had its share of problems of a disjointed nuclear family that hadn’t been able to find any roots in this city except a small flat in the suburbs. Most of my family which would have been responsible for my identification or association with my culture or traditions was in north India, scattered like beads of a gaudy ornamental necklace.

As far as the environment goes, this apartment was the only thing that connected me to my neighbours, none of whom had a wish to dream big, leave alone ambitions to conquer the city they were a part of.. An opinion was considered lethal for a kid my age and determination was viewed as an inconsequential part of a child’s make believe games. Somehow I knew from day one that I was a square peg and should not even think of trying to fit into these round holes. I wore similar clothes to their kids, I had same issues like the lack of money, space and privacy as most of them, but I never let the awareness of my distinction sink into depths of my mind. It didn’t need recall even though I gained expertise in local dialects and could hold a conversation in Marathi as fluently as English, much to the amusement of my neighbours.

As a true blue member of the bollywood city, I had started my reading one summer looking at a movie ad in paper and reading it in roman Hindi with the alphabets S-H-O-L-A-Y. This biggest hit of Indian film industry may not be in my list of personal favourites, but does hold its significance just like these incoherent facts. Well let’s put things in perspective. Though I enjoyed being a witness to my friend’s life which worked in clockwork precision and produced some wonderful results for him, I never regretted not having much order in my life.

Through my college, I sang, danced, and acted on stage and off it into jobs that I fancied, while he studied to get top grades, as if he would ace in life if he topped his class. His summers ended with results of his annual run to the winning post, mine just were intervals till I returned to be my old social butterfly self.

In a summer after college, I fell in love, maybe for the first time as earlier I had loved my girl friend but wasn’t in love with her. This time it was a boy from US who found me online. My afternoons were sunny with smileys, days were filled with reading print outs of romantic emails over and over again. Maybe it was the heat or blind puppy love, but if there was a smile that mattered to me, it was his. I basked in radiance of his love. We planned gazillion things about his visit to Mumbai, our life in coming years and more like two kids, sitting idly deciding lives of their dolls in the perfect pink plastic house

I moved out of my parent’s home but he didn’t turn up online for long. I called his dorm to know that he hastened his chemotherapy as a medical student authorized to do so for a non-malignant tumour in his head and had expired due to brain hemorrhage. That summer didn’t cheer me up. The memories of it still don’t fade. Harsh brightness of the days mocked my dark life and warmth scalded my heart. His memories were coupled with a knowledge that no one else in the world probably knew his true nature. His thoughts, emotions or desires were all unknown, uncared for and died with him. I lived for the seasons to change, rain soaked my spirit and winter froze the fire of anger within.

Today, it’s been many years since and many people have come and gone in my life. My friend still awaits his arranged south Indian marriage and works 24 x 7 like a good boy. He hasn’t faced deaths except a few old relatives. That’s because he didn’t venture out much in sun listening to his mother who warned him of burns. I remain friends with him and connect as frequently or infrequently as per my work. The reason for doing so eludes me. Maybe I want to be rooted in ordinary mundane life too even if I fancy my alternative lifestyle. Security of love and family still has value for me as it has for him. But for me, summer is knocking again. Mornings are arriving earlier and twilight seems to evade me. The question remains what to expect this time. Nostalgia remains and enthusiasm for new day too. Summer strikes and I wait for its bittersweet contradictions to unfold. As I head towards an unknown destination jogging early morning, I reach a conclusion that no matter which road u take, the sun will shine bright. It’s for us either to stand in way of its light and warmth completely and bloom from bud to a flower or to stagnate with security of never reaching our true potential in shades.

Triangle of hearts (continued and completed)

The three disappointed souls now headed to sit by the sea. S had been driving for the past two hours and the other two i.e. me & A were guiltily sitting alongside wondering what we could do to ease the blow of the unexpected anti-climax.

It seemed as if we were collaboratively mourning not being able to attend one Gay Bombay party where we would meet the much known faces and be disgusted by the overtly lusty ambiance. Its as if our skewed equations didn’t matter as much for the moment as the great loss of not being able to dance to the music we would crib about later while calling the DJ names and swearing not to attend more such parties any more. But our behavior had less to do with vanity and more the disappointment of not having any other venues to party as queer individuals.

S said something about all the promises he made to friends of seeing them at the party and I got reminded of all my favourite faces who would have helped me forget this uneasy feeling of being a loser and it struck me that all of us were looking for an escape route to forget our troubles and our selves in the loud music, drinks and company of acquaintances, newbies and friends. The slow sad songs being played on radio were definitely not helping in getting over that void we were feeling together and we parked at the beginning of Mumbai’s famous scenic sea facing road stretch, aptly called the Queen’s necklace. A said, forget the party, we three should enjoy what we have right now, the beautiful sea and raising his collar he completed, beautiful people.

I had drifted to times when I was more like A in life. It was a time when I was guilt free. Flirting was for fun and if one person showed any remote symptoms of rejection, I pole vaulted into another fancier love relation with skill of a trained athlete and grace of a passionate dancer. Like a rock made brittle by waves and sun, my spirit too was dampened by my scorpion trait of obsession and self destruction. I looked up at the clear sky cussing at the stars and was suddenly aware of the thick air once more.

This was time for he shaman within me to try and heal the wounds. I took charge of the decision making process of where in Mumbai would this love triangle with three asymmetrical angles fit in at this hour. The empty streets reflected our idle minds and dim street lights, the tinge of sadness of change in plans. I asked S & A in quick successions “what next?” trying to salvage the situation and attempting to look excited at the prospect of any of the now chosen compromises instead of the GB party

A told us that he had curfews and that he had lied to his family to come today for the party. Since he wasn’t allowed to remain out late. He wanted to return this time, so that he could actually party the next time. Aha, my thoughts went. It was a eureka moment, so that was the secret of maintaining a princess like aura around him – exclusivity. So S, who thinks he is a prince, finds his perfect match in princess A, the one who is forbidden by her family to fall in love but she still risks it for the sake of her Prince “Balding”

Do you want to eat something? Asked A and pulled my cheek. His display of affection towards me was perplexing as he was not remotely the kind of person I would date or hang out with. I nodded my head in affirmative to him and turned to S to ask if we would head towards our regular haunt, just to realize that no matter who would be with S in middle of the night looking for a snack, he would be taken to the hang out clearly etched as ours. A agreed to eat by the street side at what was no longer “our haunt’

As we moved further back towards home, now speeding on the empty streets of suburbs, I changed the music to soulful classic Hindi/ Urdu ghazals, high on sentiment quotient. Though being sentimental or emotional was the last thing on my mind, I began humming the lyrics and trying to savour the whiffs of breeze against my face and my body, which was already exposed to the ac S had turned on full blast to avoid the heat if the moment. S looked at me and who are you thinking of while you sing these lines, which of your ex do you remember this way?

That was like rubbing salt over my burns and making me feel highly aware of the wide chasm between us in spite of sitting at less than an arm’s distance

I reacted coldly but with furious look of eyes “which one of my ex do you think I made this song compilation for, so that they can hear it in their car?

There was a silence in the car for the next minute or so for me to realize that I had confessed maybe for the first time to S in person (had told him on phone, smsed it and more). That too in front of my worthy contender for hopefully the last time.

After about a dozen non-stop sneezes A came to my rescue and offered a massage to help me feel better.

In this vulnerable state I looked at S, who would have been against me giving in to A’s advances otherwise. He seemed fine with me accepting help for the sake of health. Sneezing and simultaneous thinking stopped for a while as A began without waiting for my approval.

His warm hands did not feel like the ones which would strangle me for loving and lusting over his guy. As he progressed from nape of my neck to my spine, His hands slipped under my see=through mess tee and Soon one of his hands was feeling my nipples. I hit his hand twice as vocalizing my discomfort would add to S’s twisted expression arising from a man in his car feeling the other one up in full public view. Also, the biggest factor was that he had been sidelined by those two people who treated him like sex magnet always – irresistible and must. I thanked A after two minutes not because I wasn’t enjoying the neck rub or wanted to eat but just to stop embarrassing S

“Thanks A. lets find whatever happened to our food’

He smiled and asked S to do the needful and suggested me a remedy that helped him in cold. I looked at him amusingly as he was good at getting under people’s skin, warm and giving> Damn S was a lucky man, but it was the kind of luck you don’t wish your best friend to have as this would take him away from you.

By the time S was back, A had spoken about his skills as a masseur, S’s inability to learn the same and also about a certain occasions when he and S were supposedly in bed with individuals or groups

What S and orgy! I felt a shriek of my inner voice nearly jump out of my lips but I didn’t give in. S always told me that he disliked any kinds of threesomes or four ways. Was that a lie? Did he find me too unattractive for a three way?

Then it slowly hit me, S loved this guy so much that he was ready to go through pain at the place where pleasure is of utmost importance. S arrived with food and A’s misplaced attention shone once again as he fed me first and the he fed S too. While S fed A with that glint in the eye. I absolutely wait the evening for, A winked at me and dropped a bombshell. He proposed” Lets share everything like we are sharing the food”

Then he looked at S and said do you have any problems if we do so

S had lost the glint and was trying to look elsewhere, when in real it was visible how the people closest to us can hurt us the most even with just a few words. He was vulnerable and simultaneously liked the way conversation had humour,sex and love pot pourried to perfection. I didn’t know about him but I wanted to see it for sure now what was next in A’s arsenal. Before I realized we were heading towards the god forsaken interiors of my suburb towards A’s abode. A’s tone now was weird as we had shed our disappointment of not attending the party and were pretty content with the drive and the good humour that we maintained through the evening. He was verbally enquiring about my life and about the areas of my being that S did not know existed. He spoke of pain, love and lust in a manner that I have always wanted S to speak. A asked me what I want in life, to suffer each night in de\different beds or to cry out of that one bed all my life, maybe in it. It wasn’t A speaking. It was pain of his choices in life, which had found its voice looking at its reflections in my melancholy.

He cleverly tried to change topics to change the ambience from thoughtful to naughty. “Don’t answer that one I can see you have loved with all your being. Tell me who you want…” He glanced and Sam and completed “… for tonight?”

I did not waste any time in figuring if the Smart Alec comment was meant or not “Oh that’s your idea of entertainment for the evening. No wonder you weren’t very disappointed by party plans getting shelved”

I was enjoying this tussle of wits now and while trying to gauge S’s reaction to my earlier statement I added “I am more of a voyeur. Why don’t you both do the needful behind while I learn how to drive?”

A went back now to his story of S being cold to him and hot for others. He teased S ‘what about proving me wrong right here right now?”

While they began lover’s banter, this time A extended his story from three way to a group act. What followed was a graphic, hypothetical and comical account of s being a super stud satiating six willing queens at once”

S had a knowing smile aimed for me almost saying “ You know that I would rather die than do such a thing” I found myself slipping into thoughts that if A ever meant to be in bed with me and S simultaneously, Would S agree? The answer came in lightning flash speed. Of course he would be loved to hilt that one time. But will I say yes? Can I share the one I love with someone else? Apart from the bigger worries, were the small concerns about getting an unequal portion/ deal in such a scenario. I imagine waiting for a kiss, while two others are busy in a more intimate act.

The other fear that cropped was that historically I have been unsuccessful in my only attempt due to my penchant of laughing at the live sight of naked bodies. Who ever began the chain mail forward about 1000 things not to say during sex must have began it thinking of me and hoping that I save others from my trial and error ways.

Actually maybe I was a failure in bed and that’s why S moved away in the first place. And now things were beyond control. “Praful lets share him for the night. It’s decided” A quipped ducking to miss A’s hand which was hunting to hit him while driving. He chuckled and enjoyed irritating S but I declared the verdict of my inner dialogue “I don’t believe in sharing”

A replied ‘So give him a great time once you drop me off”
Whoa baby! This was a fast one, the kind of ball Andre agassi would be hit by. I wanted A to stop as each of these statements were bringing out my desires, all of which I thought were resolved and not repressed. But no, the roots existed; just the plants weren’t visible above the surface. With Kind sprinkling of fluid sexuality, the earth of my emotions went loose. The seeds that contained lives, my dreams and desires about S were threatening to tear open the surface and shoot out with my impulse to not only agree but also act on each suggestion.
But hey isn’t that what he wants, to instigate me, get me to act foolish, to ruin the respect S has for me, to prove it to me that I am not worth any high self esteem. Sorry Mr. A, I am not the kinds who give in, not the monkey who walks into your booby trap. I gave him a raspberry in my head while the car stopped in front of his complex.

He didn’t want us to drop him at his doorstep.
Ah! He was ashamed to be seen with us, well something common that he has with S. having known S for so long, I had never seen him make any efforts to mention about other significant people of his life. Be it his ex girlfriend, or the first gay person who he shared the bed with or the best friend from college.

He liked to maintain compartments of his life. All of us were distinctly classified and conveniently placed as separate parts of his life as per the labels – love life/ sex life, professional, leisure, gay friends and maybe more labels. So A was one of those who liked to be placed in closet along with brooms and went from a drag queen to discreetly gay straight acting person in 10 seconds flat… ooh. Match alright for S.

They kissed before he left our sides. S hesitated, looked at me once but the rarity of A’s company maybe led him to breach the holy rule. But hey this wasn’t the first time he kissed some one in front of me. It wasn’t the first time my heart tore into million little pieces of shattered glass. As A bid goodbye, I looked at Sam and hum. They looked so happy together that I forgot about my shattered heart. S was smiling one of those glorious smiles that said ‘Yes. I am on top of the world.”

He had held A’s hand and was asking A to stay a bit longer. A enjoyed the attention but reluctantly refused. He asked me to make S understand. I smiled and nodded in negative saying “I would faour my friend.”

A stepped out in a mock act of cursing me and placed his lips on mine. My thoughts went “Did he just kiss me? But… How can he? How dare he? Oh my god!!”

I turned my face to see S who was not amused by my delayed reaction but at least I hadn’t kissed back like he had done on so many instances. Maybe he would realize 1/ 1000th of pain that I felt. Maybe I was glad that he did. Amidst these thoughts, before I could wave properly, A was gone, we moved ahead and S casually asked me my opinion about A, beaming in joy, basking in radiance of his affection and love for the humorous , seductive and caring individual who had just left the space physically by existed between us in spite of that.

I said “Don’t let him go. Love him cos he loves you. I realize by looking at him that he might have to marry due to parental pressure and that even you consider the same. There might be no concrete future for your relation but sweets, live for the moments of ecstasy. I have never seen you happier than your boyish adamant rogue demands of him to stay back. You had sparks honey. It’s precious. Please be with him, love him with your heart and soul.”

I felt I wouldn’t be able to breathe while saying this but I continued
“S, if you do not love him as it’s a risk or because he is possessive, you would deprive yourself of a beautiful relationship. Ask me how it feels to long for someone and not being able to get him/ her. I have spent the whole f^#@king evening today in that one frozen emotion of pining. Don’t do this to him or yourself. It pains S, to know that all the happiness you want exists only for you to chose but destiny has decided otherwise. But luck favours you here. Even if he does not admit, he loves you like crazy. Don’t ignore him like you ignored me.”

I burst into tears and felt the rising volcano within my chest burst out. I saw that S had moist eyes but could not hold myself back. The music that was playing but I hadn’t noticed for quite sometime was ghazal about a person waiting from many lifetimes for his beloved it wasn’t the right song for the moment. It would make me cry more, so I ejected it but he played it again, maybe now knowing who I had burnt the CD compilation for and also what it felt being subjected to indecisiveness and eternal conflict between love and lust, purity and pleasure, pain and passion. Maybe he allowed the heat of the moment to take over his A/c and thus he rolled the window down. In his single tear, I saw his realisation roll down his cheek. He apologized and I wiped my face. Maybe I was 25 yet and he was 28 at the end of the night but we had grown, so had our hearts, our relation and only thing that had reduced was the distance between these two angles of the triangle.

Comfortably Numb

I am comfortably numb this monday morning, blue as if there was never any warmth of sun that touched it or any surge of blood that made it blush

I stare at screen of this man made wonder only to ask myself...

Is it less painful than a accident when the realisation dawns upon you that two people who you cared about the most for on this planet have their own agendas, none of them have you in them.

Are you called a survivor, if your heart has been broken into gazillion little pieces of glass and you are alive, shouldnt it be considered a miracle?

what if you wake up one fine morning and you are living a different life, no securities, no familiarity, no safety? Arent u braver than any soldier that day to continue to fight the battle for daily bread?

Do questions always lead to answers or choke to end in uncomfortably dark silences gasping for breath?

Does any dream ever get fulfilled? Do doubts die away? Does love really stay?

The list goes on, the quest never ends, theres pain of stmbling upon different things on path to love as its blind, bleeding on thorns that roses bring, i sing, cos i want to.. maybe its a cry but no tears i wonder why?

Is end of suffering, the beginning of liberation? Do hurts really make you stronger to protect the core? is it the divine dicohotomy that when you fall into a deep trench, the only way out is up

Stormy Solitude

An evening, crimson with mad rage, goes far away

The fierce winds bring in fears that it will be lost to never return

A thousand swirling black clouds, restless and angry, ask questions

When the echoes are unanswered they silently mutter a thousand curses

Night sky, dark and discontent, breaks into manouvres damning life’s overwhelming truths

Light shines though loathing and secrets of heartbeats, of temptations, sins and salvation

Along with thunderbolts of agony, comes breeze filled with dust, maybe ashes of dreams

Drenching my heart and burning my mind, a teardrop of acid rain soaks my palms

A triangle of hearts

My life had been vague recently. The boundaries between, truth and lies, real and surreal were wafer thin. Sadness was as much a part of my life as a smile that erupts from looking at an acquaintance or a friend as a knee jerk reaction.

My crush S hadn’t called me to accompany him to the Gay Bombay party as almost always. Though I clearly remember that it was him, who had taken my mind off my usual lows of loneliness, feeling unloved and worthless with an hour-long phone conversation last night. Even he knew and somewhere deep down I was aware that the empty feeling in spite of a decent job, a loving family (the kinds that I stay away from for sanity sake) and a series of achievements stemmed from him. My insecurities of losing him were so accentuated that I counted them amongst my list of compulsions. My other most obvious and frequent compulsion was and still is checking my pockets for house keys at least five times before shutting the door in spite of being locked out only once in last two years.

Sitting at home, waiting for his call would make me more miserable and crankier. So I got ready reluctantly and between a face wash and cologne, I spoke to him for the first time to enquire his plans for the evening only to realize that he would be accompanied by his crush A

S and I had a history wherein he was a confused bisexual who met me while I was recuperating from a major abusive relationship, which was dear to me more than life. The result was that initially I mated like rabbits with S, whose real name surprisingly is Bunny.

Though normally I am not comfortable sleeping around like the usual gay suspects but with him, not an ounce of guilt cropped as twinkle of his eyes, that glint which contains all his boyish naughtiness, curiousity, purity, innocence, righteousness and more kept me from ever doubting that it was plain lust. It saved me from damnation and even helped me to be strong enough to make changes in my environment but I lost touch with him fighting my daily battles of food, shelter, faith, clothes and accessories.

Next time he met me at a party 3 months later, my life had changed and so had our equation. From then on we moved to initial flirting, a period of abstinence, contemplating relationship to my realisation that I loved him and his fear of saying no as he was not ready. After dealing with his neglect, my anger about rejection and more, now we are close enough to share more than most people. Its weird how I am the only one who can get him to talk at times. Not that I am great expert at this but my formula is simple – give in order to get.

By the time I fixed my schedule with other friends and moved to socks, shoes and deo, S called and we spoke again. He was waiting this time near my home to fetch me. I cherish any acknowledgement of attention or care from him even if today it meant sharing him for the evening with A.

I managed to push my friends to go with others (quite literally) and entered his car. Now I was in his space. Sitting on the front seat of his car meant that I could play songs of my choice, look at him for the next 45 minutes till we reached the venue and more over I hoped to see that glint of his eye and his smile. If I was lucky, he would share one of his beliefs or heartfelt thoughts about me. Though these symptoms are of puppy love, it had been 2 years now, I was 25 while he was 28, balding, dark and had bloodshot red yes due to his lack of sleep. My excitement had never died through this period, as it turned into restlessness, may be greed to get more of him just because I knew I could not.

Amidst the anticipation for A and small talk about the party, he asked me for a favour and before he completed or mentioned, I assured him that I would sit on the backseat once A arrives. He looked a bit surprised but he was used to my uncanny knack of being honest and practical even if it meant my own loss.

I asked him about my new look, a bit sluttier than before hoping he would notice my track pants that tickled from inside due to their soft material and translucent black tee. He cribbed that he was not dressed appropriately while to me, he looked striking. He wore his charm, his appeal to be undaunted by others, being headstrong at places where it mattered.

Soon we arrived at a juncture where A was supposed to come overboard and I wished that he shouldn’t be more attractive than me. I felt guilty for being mean and not being happy for someone so close to me in mind, body and spirit like S.

There A was, dressed in all black, wearing a shirt much like mine, reminding me of our similar tastes and this unwitting competition tonight where one love would win over other. Maybe it would make me extremely happy if I won but in any case S would win nonetheless. This was the thought that calmed me, as I got up to offer A, his deserved and my desired place in S ‘s car. It seemed like I was offering him my position in S’s life. Maybe he read the grimace on my face or was genuinely nice. I heard him speak for the first time ‘ Sit. Don’t bother. I will go behind.”

I had almost forgotten to judge him or even to look at him properly due to his gesture of kindness. I curbed the demonic voice within and waited till he introduced himself. S’s face had a very strange glow. He was conscious of our presence together. He knew that air-conditioning of his car just worked superficially. The breaths within our bodies were warm with pleasure of seeing a loved one, hot with jealousy and luke warm with acknowledgement of competition for much cherished attention. But somehow I realized that the prized trophy S wasn’t so much a prize until we attached our anticipations, expectations and other emotions in their mammoth proportions.

The conversations progressed and I noticed that A was aware of S’s crush on him and also knew that getting into my good books would not be easy for him. He got personal in humour intelligently by breaching below the belt zone in manner that a man finds both titillating and welcome. Especially when he or she is sitting with a morose soul like me. My usual good humour, endless supply of oneliners and wit that attract others usually were nowhere to be found today. I thought to myself about my defense strategy in life. Except for debates, dance, singing old Hindi numbers, I have always been bad at my defense. Historically I have been bad at competing for love and attention, be it with my sister for my mother’s special gulab jamun, or with my best friend for my class teacher’s brownie points or any sweet kisses from S in the past at a party earlier. I looked up at him, he was smiling and had rested his head in an angle through which S could see him through the rear view mirror.

S was a newbie at driving and I could say A distracted him by the jerks I could feel on the front seat in spite of the seat belt. I sighed silently and wondered why did I agree to be a part of such an ordeal. I could see it clearly and could not deny that Together they were everything I ever wanted to be with S. naughty at times, Nice at others and Nasty at rest, they had a spark that would send a ripple of mixed feelings right within me. The clock was ticking but the traffic remained static as if resolved to delay my pleasure of partying and to stretch this period of discomfort. I remembered the incident when both A & me had spotted a guy forcefully kissing S and then S giving in by not resisting at a party. After we witnessed this from distance, both of us were upset but S had spent next day and more trying to pacify A. I wondered what would happen this time if history is repeated.

A spoke on phone continuously through the journey irking S due to his misplaced attention. When I tried to console him by saying that we would reach soon he reacted sharply” it’s my fault, only if I could drive better, we would reach faster. What’s the point of going to party for barely one and a half hour when to and fro travel will amount to three hours”?

He looked pissed and irritated. This was the part I did not know how to handle. He reminded me of my father who has frozen in this state forever. As a child, we had named one of our pets after dad. (Of course we didn’t tell him the secret behind the dog’s baptism) and went around calling him snappy. So we taught our dog to be lesser aggressive and to be gentle and obedient. Simultaneously I would pray for dad to get this message and training miraculously.

Anyways, A broke the tension with a quick repartee about S being hot at wrong places while he is cold in bed with A. Amused as were, we all chuckled and I saw that ice had been thawed. We would not be loggerheads in spite of S. I looked at A and knew that he chose to be wise rather than otherwise.

We were at the threshold of fun, frolic and fortnightly fare of flaunting our assets to avail of free sex dates, dancing partners and more fringe benefits but our Karma did not want us to enter the Karma lounge where the party was being hosted.

Between Mine and A’s requests for S to try and park carefully and to chill at the party without thinking how late we were, A valet arrived to inform us of the cop trouble. We could see our efforts and travel go down the drain that very second. Rather than my usual nagging about section 377 and India’s farce of a democracy, I looked at S, who was brown and not red with anger.

When he asked A and me whether we should wait and see if we can get entry into the party later, I wanted to say “ I don’t really care about the party if you don’t.” he said he wasn’t in mood to party now and I like mary’s little lamb agreed to it, but was waiting for A’s reply. It could tilt the scales, if he said that he wants to go for the party and left Sam’s side, then S would be all mine for the evening. But A didn’t do any of those things.

I stayed glued to my seat almost feeling pressed under the thumb of destiny to accompany them wherever they went now. No friends, No gay music, No drinks, I had to face my fears alone. Yes it was the time for delivery and performance. It was time for me to give my heart to my lover on a platter literally like Eklavya gave his thumb to his Guru

To be continued…