My Very Own Step-Mom Moment July 11, 2009

So we were in one of our regular arguments, yesterday and suddenly Maa absolutely shocked me when, in a very non-chalant tone, she admitted…

“Well, I didn’t have any problem accepting you as my own child, when I got married to your father.”

There were several reasons why I thought that was peculiar.

1. So she didn’t have any trouble accepting me as her own child, which implied that I was an offspring from my father’s earlier marriage. But there was no mention of her coming to terms with accepting my elder sister as her own child. Implying that my elder sister was her own child, meaning that my folks had her well before they got married and well before my dad and his earlier wife conceived me. Which would make my dad a pretty rotten man.
2. She qouted my biological mother’s name as “Sukhan Lata” or something like that. As far as I know him, my dad would never marry a woman who was called “Sukhan Lata” (in the late 20th century) and I too would refuse to be born to a woman by that name.
3. After the sensational proclamation, she went on to say something about being so accepting that she went on to have a third child with him, and avoided having a fourth out of financial considerations. Now in my 21 years of survival, I haven’t known a second sibling. So any talk of avoiding bearing a fourth child (for whatever reason) in the absence of a third would mean that either both my parents were mathematically impaired or that I was in some very ludicrous dream.

I decided it was the latter so I began attempting to break out of that environment into a more realistic one. I wasn’t successful, so I resigned myself to the fact that my beloved mother was a step mother, that I was born out of wed-lock and that I had a second sibling that I cannot see, and a fourth wasn’t born because of the invisible third.

Soon enough though, I did awake and was thankful to realise none of it was true. Phew!

Hem-Locked in Ignorance July 9, 2009

It’s extremely tragic to hear of the 86 deaths that occurred in Gujarat. It’s politically incorrect to take an objective stand on such an issue, for the sake of sounding insensitive.

For instance, it’s politically incorrect to say that all those men pretty much invited this fate upon themselves by drinking illegally obtained alcohol in large quantities, when in fact that money could’ve been used for the welfare of their family… that lots of destitute wives and children suffer because the “bread-winners” don’t bring as much food to the table as they are capable of.

It’s also politically incorrect to say that the bootleggers are hardly at fault for simply selling the liquor under the table that they have no way to distinguish from poison. That maybe if the government wasn’t such a nut-case and instead legalised alcohol in the state so that it wouldn’t have to be sold illegally, genuine alcohol could be sold, the state wouldn’t live in denial and such incidents wouldn’t arise.

But one shouldn’t make politically incorrect statements, should one.

Bad Girls, Bad Girls July 8, 2009

So I’ve been partying quite a bit, off late. Attended 5 parties in the past 3 weeks, as opposed to none in 20 years in Delhi, so the parents are a bit taken aback, though not protesting at all.

Last saturday, I came in at half-past-four. Mom rang me up at 4, and when I got home finally, pop was up. He smelled my breath, seemed satisfied and went back to sleep.
The reason I got so late was chiefly because I left the club at half past 3. I also had to drop off a fellow at his home which is about 5 kms off mine, and his friend at a hotel, which was en route.

The next morning, mom very arbitrarily asked me, “How many people were in the car last night?” I was totally caught off guard, and had no idea how she knew! I lied that there was only one, who had to be dropped off nearby. It turned out that she’d smelled smoke in the car. How, I cannot imagine, because none of the three of us smoked that evening, at least in the car!

I didn’t tell her about the male-bimbo-equivalent I dropped off on the way, but I may as well have. At the hotel, I’d opened the bonnet for security check, and the creeps hadn’t closed it properly, which she asked me about later.

At the breakfast table, mom asked me the names of the people I was with. I’d brushed off those questions earlier, saying that she didn’t know most of my firends anyway, but this time, she insisted saying “It doesn’t matter, you can still give me names.”

I struggled and came up with names for 2 girls, with ex school-mates as their namesakes. And I of course gave her Daksh’s name.

Anyway, the next day, a cousin visiting from abroad (he’s married and has 2 kids) was asking me about the party scene here. Mom mentioned to him that I’d been out till 4.30 the previous night, and he was shocked.

“Girls’ parents allow them to be out till 4.30 AM?? How do they get home at that hour” he asked.

“Ummm…. errr…. well, it varies, really. My college friends don’t get perm. to do so, but errr… these ones do. They’re driven around by a personal driver, what else!”

“This is just plain shocking! The driver works those hours at night?”

“Umm… money talks, I guess. (Which is not untrue because Daksh comes with his D, sometimes.) Anyway, the atmosphere is a bit liberal here, and clubbing goes on till late. Besides, not ALL parents have to know what time they’re returning. For instance, one girl can always stay over at another’s, so only the hostess’s parents need to know what time they’re both coming home, while the other’s parents simply know that she was out till some slightly indecent hour at night.”

To which he smirked and said, “When these sort of activities begin, one can only imagine what it may be leading to… Friends staying outside home and all…”

Being the blonde that I sometimes am, I didn’t pick up the hints. Just looked at him in confusion.

It finally settled in. And needless to say, I was at a loss for words.

Some poor, fictitious girls of questionable character, who I am friends with and spend every other evening with, were certainly been looked down upon that night.

I feel a bit guilty, even though they don’t really exist!

I’m an Uncle again! July 6, 2009

Imagine getting to know in a flash of a second that you’ve become an uncle…

So it turns out that my cousin brother, and sister-in-law, just adopted a baby girl! They hadn’t mentioned a THING to any of the family, before they held the little angel in their hands (earlier this morning)! I’ve not seen her yet, I just got to know moments ago, and I cannot express in words how elated I am!!

I’ve got SOO many nephews from my other cousins, but only one neice! But NOT ANY MORE!!

I mentioned in a comment in D’s blog that how it broke my heart that one of my sister-in-law’s who is a complete angel, cannot give her love and upbringing to a little one.

It’s not true anymore

This one is going to be very, very special… For once, I’m old enough to hold her in my hands without being reminded by the “adults” that I shouldn’t “drop the baby”. Hold her like my own little one…
I’m going to go and cry a bit now :’)

Tété-a-Twitter with Barkha Dutt July 6, 2009

unsungpsalm – @BDUTT I love you (even though I’m gay). Yay, I said it!

BDUTT – @unsungpsalm Thank you.. that’s sweet.

Funky Folks July 6, 2009

Not many are lucky to be able to make open references to sex around their folks and not ruffle some feathers…

On the Breakfast Table, after a frustrated attempt to make father realize our financial dissatisfaction
Me: Mom, I think [My sister], you and I will have to enter prostitution to be able to afford the lifestyle we desire…
Mom: (Not having paid attention) What?
Me: (loudly) I said you, I and [Sister] will have to SLUT ourselves to afford the lifestyle we desire!

*Lecture on how I finish college in one year and can invest my efforts in other activities to earn well*

__
In the evening, dad had misplaced his shaving blade so wanted to borrow mine. I was changing the cartridge and he told me not to bother.

Me: Dad, I don’t know anything about your sex life and you know nothing about mine, so I’d rather play it safe…
(After using the blade and cutting himself on it)
Dad: Oww! You’re right, you COULD have given me AIDS!

Last & Final July 5, 2009

It’s 4.30 am and I just came in from my third saturday night @ Polka. Remember last weekend? When I wrote “Ummmm 1″ and “Ummm 2″? Well, I would’ve call this “Ummm 3″ but I think I’ve associated a rather negative (in a specific sense) connotation with “Ummm” so I refrain.

The point remains that this WAS my last party at Polka. Why? The music was just terrible! Absolutely horrendous! 3 songs played 18 times, 4 identical songs in all were any good and most of the other tracks were trash. I entered at half past midnight and the place was brimming… with what seemingly were newbies! And boy, were they new! Just  standing there on the dance floor, pretty much not moving a bone or letting people dance. And most were unpleasant looking.

The high point of the evening was fashion designer MA. Well, not him actually but his boyfriend. Oh my god, I’ve never seen such hotness! I just couldn’t look at anything else! Daksh was instead trying to divert my attention to this other fellow (who I ended up giving a short ride to, in my car, courtesy Mohit [who I was dropping home] but didn’t really give a damn about) but GOD oh GOD MA’s boyfriend was a friggin’ SEX GOD!!!

I’d abduct him, if that’s what it takes to have him on my possession. Oh la la! Huge biceps, gorgeous face, gorgeous hair… and not a plucked chicken, which are so much in fad in my community (I cannot imagine why)!

Anyway, Mohit also introduced us Daksh and me to an apparently well known choreographer (name withheld) and she greeted us by names! It was so flattering (for a newbie to the scene, such as me)! There were quite a few straight couples there, really… just to give company to their friends. A smoking hot 30-something year old woman stepped out of the pub, proclaiming “I’m straight…” which made me laugh. “But my best friend is gay ” she added. How lovely it is, the strong friendships people have (with such hot women)!

Yes, barring MA’s boyfriend, I could only find appreciation for women, tonight. Tragic, yes.

Anyway, my last night at Polka it was. Will confine myself to the weekday parties, henceforth. They’re far high up, in their standards!

It’s 4.30 am and I just came in from my third saturday night @ Polka. Remember last weekend? When I wrote “Ummmm 1″ and “Ummm 2″? Well, I would’ve call this “Ummm 3″ but I think I’ve associated a rather negative (in a specific sense) connotation with “Ummm” so I refrain.

The point remains that this WAS my last party at Polka. Why? The music was just terrible! Absolutely horrendous! 3 songs played 18 times, 4 identical songs in all were any good and most of the other tracks were trash. I entered at half past midnight and the place was brimming… with what seemingly were newbies! And boy, were they new! Just  standing there on the dance floor, pretty much not moving a bone or letting people dance. And most were unpleasant looking.

The high point of the evening was fashion designer MA. Well, not him actually but his boyfriend. Oh my god, I’ve never seen such hotness! I just couldn’t look at anything else! Daksh was instead trying to divert my attention to this other fellow (who I ended up giving a short ride to, in my car, courtesy Mohit [who I was dropping home] but didn’t really give a damn about) but GOD oh GOD MA’s boyfriend was a friggin’ SEX GOD!!!

I’d abduct him, if that’s what it takes to have him on my possession. Oh la la! Huge biceps, gorgeous face, gorgeous hair… and not a plucked chicken, which are so much in fad in my community (I cannot imagine why)!

Anyway, Mohit also introduced us Daksh and me to an apparently well known choreographer (name withheld) and she greeted us by names! It was so flattering (for a newbie to the scene, such as me)! There were quite a few straight couples there, really… just to give company to their friends. A smoking hot 30-something year old woman stepped out of the pub, proclaiming “I’m straight…” which made me laugh. “But my best friend is gay ” she added. How lovely it is, the strong friendships people have (with such hot women)!

Yes, barring MA’s boyfriend, I could only find appreciation for women, tonight. Tragic, yes.

Anyway, my last night at Polka it was. Will confine myself to the weekday parties, henceforth. They’re far high up, in their standards!

Oh, and I didn’t smoke one bit, tonight.

Oh 2, and when I came in at 4.30 a.m. (having received a phonecall from mom at 4.00 am, asking me where the hell I was), dad was up looking a bit disturbed. He smelled by breath, to which I responded that I hadn’t drunk and hadn’t smoked. He seemed satisfied. Then I proceeded to pull the internet wire from their room into mine, and he was scandalized that I wanted to log on at this ghastly hour. Sigh! How do I explain to them the duties and obligations of a Live Blogger.

Not far from home July 4, 2009

So we were discussing Michael Jackson’s condition, which led to a discussion on cardiac arrest.

Dad brought up an incident of a neighbourhood friend who died early, due to what they believed was cardiac arrest. I recalled vague memories of the house that stood there, and curiosity arose to explore more behind that memory.

The death happened even before I was born. Late 1980’s. The man was a friend of the family, and known to dad since his younger days, probably owing to the fact that he was a neighbour. He was scholarly, studied in a top college, followed by a law degree. In college, he had been a fabulous orator and a top public speaker and debator. He settled into professional life as a solicitor for a reputed European firm. His job involved a lot of travel, in India and abroad.

His death was sudden and unexplainable. The doctors were utterly confused. What people did know was that he became extremely paranoid about cleanliness, a few months before his passing. He’d wash his hands incessantly, and be utterly paranoid about his surroundings. All in order to avoid any possible illness. AIDS precations, anyone?

Naturally, that set of this thought at the back of my head. I began to probe further, as inconspicuoucly as I could.

Did he have a family? He did, a wife and two children. The second child was born a month before his death. Were they still alive? Very much. That implied that neither the wife nor the children were HIV positive, meaning he must’ve gotten it from outside.

I didn’t have to probe further; dad pretty much confirmed my suspicions. “He had a funny way about him. People often mentioned it… a gay-ish demeanour.”

The family made all attempts to conceal the reason for his death. Dad said that there was almost no awareness about HIV/AIDS back then, an unsurprising fact.
This was in the late 1980’s, before or around the time I was born. In a home 3 steps away from mine.

A wife widowed, children orphaned. A young, talented and loving man/husband/father, having led a life of fear, secrecy and occasional but short-lived liberation from his double identity, succumbed to a disease that he could’ve never known, never fathomed and never protected himself against.

Miraculously, the wife and children escaped and are still alive today. Alive and healthy. And hopefully not ashamed.

Before Sunrise & Bimbo Behaviour July 3, 2009

I’ve got so many posts swimming around in my head nowdays, what with a new environment at work and dad’s own gay rights movement, that I’m unable to document.

So here’s a feeble attempt…

Before Sunrise

(Got the idea for the title of this post from a little prick who reads my blog. Kudos to you, Mr. Bing…)

I was heading home from work on Wednesday evening, and managed to catch a cab for once. As I got on, so did this other fellow, dressed in casuals. He wasn’t amazingly cute, but there was something about his face that I founded attractive. His pouty lips, square-shaped face, nothing was very attractive. But it was… manly!

So anyway, we were sitting diagonally opposite each other. He was on the phone, and I was listening closely trying to decipher what language he was speaking in and what his accent sounded like. (I’m pathetic, I know)

Once he’d hung up, I pretended to be on a call, and spoke in slightly affected english. (Very pathetic, I know!) He didn’t show any interest, though.

Now I’m not one to initiate conversations. Neither did he. Then comes to my rescue this middle-aged co-passenger, who initiated conversation.

The dude (I’ll call him Squareface) turned out to be an employee of a call-centre. So while my copassenger enquired about their work ethics, timings, routine, life etc. I eased my way in,  asking Squareface about qualifications of the employees, job-requirements, accent-training (pathetic, I know) etc. etc. He saw my ID-card and asked me about my company. I informed him that I was interning and was actually studying in EFG college. Left him a bit impressed, seemingly. Either that, or the slight accent I’d put on (pathetic, I know).
Conversation went on afterwards to the monsoons, and how hot it had gotten prior to that, how warm the water in the taps was. In conversation, he mentioned that he used 20 litres of water for his bath (pronouncing bathe as bath and making me cringe), for which I condemned him (though it may have been incited, unconsciously, by his diction).

The car journey came to an end, within half an hour. We deboarded, and discovered that we were both heading for the Metro and towards the same direction. So we walked together, I waited when he had to buy a recharge, boarded the train together. We’d been making conversation throughout. I think we ran out, when we stepped onto the train, so thereafter, our only communication involved me making faces of disgust at the amount of crowd in the train, and him smiling at my expressions. As I had imagined at the beginning of the journey, he looked good with a smile on his face.

So at my stop, I deboarded, quickly whispering a “All the best with your interview” (that he was due to appear for) and him saying “Nice to meet you, take care”.

And then, as I stepped onto the platform, the doors slid shut behind me. And then he was gone.

Pathetic, I know.

____

As for the second part of the post…

Bimbo Behaviour

I guess I’ll just post an excerpt from a conversation I had with this acquaintance, who’s a somewhat prominent fellow on the Delhi gay scene. I was introduced to him by Daksh.

The conversation was on Gtalk. I’ve changed my own name here to “Unsung Psalm” and his name as well, to protect identities.

….

Unsung Psalm: I say

do you even know my name?

(I’d been wondering for quite some time if he did, because we’ve met only occasionally and he’s never addressed me by my name, opting for a more generic “Darling”)
Mohit: yes

Unsung Psalm: I’m doubtful

Mohit: Unsung Psalm

Unsung Psalm: Ahh

I’m impressed

oh shit

wait

damn

you’re on my Gtalk account

fuck

lol

feel like such a bimbo! So this is what it must feel to be in your shoes

Mohit: hah

Unsung Psalm: sorry, stilettos

Awe-sum Three-sum July 3, 2009

With only dancing involved, though. Daksh, Maddy and yours truly. At the hottest club in Delhi on Tuesday nights (though this was on a thursday, and as a celebration)!

The atmosphere was wild, jovial and festive. For once, not rebellious!

The only tragic part was that Tripti Tandon brushed past me and I didn’t get to say “I love you to her”. To compensate, I did dance extremely close of fashion designer SV! Oh, the sheer glory of being a celebrity! Sigh!

We entered extremely late, though. Thank you, beloved D and M. I could only hear and not grind to “Rock DJ”, “Sound of Freedom”, “Billo Rani” and another track I cannot recall. But I did catch “Infinity 2008″ so thank god for that! AND “It’s a beautiful Life”!

OMG, gay parties are JUST SO COOOOOOL!

This was a relief though, after Maddy and I landed up and turned away from Jantar Mantar for the afternoon celebration, owing to the media barrage at the location.

Oh, and did I mention that Gautam Bhan is possibly one of the few balding men who is AMAZINGLY CUTE? Him and Arvind Narrain! Don’t know who I’m talking about? These are our heroes, ladies and men-who-resemble-ladies… these are our heroes…

377 Bye Bye! 377 Bye Bye!