When push comes to shove…

28 Sep

… I turn to you, dear blog.

Its not a nice thing to do. Its the kind of devotion exhibited by people who only offer prayers when they want something.
Which makes me a horrid devout, but you my god. And its true. I turn to you, not when I need something but when I’m upset. Or rather, when I need to be heard by someone who will listen without judgment. To whom I am all that matters.

The US seems very little different from India. Which means that the problem is not with society but with me. To quote, I may be sociable and other polite things but at the end of the day, I am outspoken and opinionated. And I don’t know how to be diplomatic about it. Which is what I hear from people I’ve barely spoken to. I guess word travels around.

And then I feel the need to be the complete complete contrast. Quiet and reserved.

This is how I explain myself… I am a free spirit. I fly free, until you cut my wings, and then I cannot fly.
Am I being needy and dramatic? Or is it innate? I do not know. I cannot know. There is no middle path (or I haven’t found one till date). Everything works in cycles. My history repeats itself, and I learn nothing. It’s never any different.

I know the problem. I’m self-aware. It works against how I’m programmed on the inside.
But what and where is the key?

Changes

10 Sep

I haven’t posted since March, and how things have changed…

Well, I wouldn’t have posted now either, if I hadn’t received adorably sweet emails from random readers in my inbox over the last few months.

What’s been up with me? I quit my job, packed my bags, left the country and am in the sunniest part of the United States. The people make it seem mostly like Mexico, but it’s like a campus town, so lots of hot college boys moving around, making me feel worse about my age and body… oh well! At least they inspire me to go out on a run once in a while!

I had tall plans for getting here (just as I always have tall plans for any identified “next” stage in life, none of which I end up executing) and that’s the case here as well. I thought that since I was going back to school and studying a more desirable curriculum, I’d be organized and attentive and diligent, but like hell.
On the other hand, I’ve been here 40 days, and have met 2 people in all (neither of which translated into a second meet), so it’s not like I’m not studying because I’m distracted for the wrong reasons.

Either way, being in the US is not as big a “progression” as I thought it would be, but maybe I’d have to go back to India to realize its full worth. Here, I mostly hang out with a few of the Indian folks, but they’re super cool and super fun, so even though I’m not hanging out with white people or whatever, I’m super happy with the company.
Romantic life is negligible. Not having a car in a town that’s so spread out and is with limited public transport, doesn’t help.

What else is up? Well, nothing comes to mind. You tell me?

Ain’t all hunky-dory in the city?

4 Mar

I’m going through Sex And The City far quicker than is for my own good… It’s so comforting… 4 very hot ladies, hooking up with fairly attractive men one after the other, never settling down, no happy ending.
It’s so comforting when it doesn’t end happily ever after. Just hope that I’m fabulous & single by the time I’m in my mid-30’s (if I’m still alive, that is)…

But no happily ever after. And it’s still television, so it isn’t real life. But it captures the reality of real life in a very artificial way. So. Bloody. Confusing.

Gossip Queens

18 Jan

Someone who’s visiting the city recently pinged me on the “Networking website”. I responded, and introduced myself. He asked me whether my last name was A, B or C. (Yes, there are apparently 3 people with my first name in this city.) When I confirmed which it was, he responded saying he was glad he’d asked me that, because he’d been warned about my “mental and personal hygiene”,¬† and signed off.

This is the third instance that I’ve gotten the idea that I’m being gossiped about. What I cannot imagine for my life is why. My flatmate (the gay one) has warned me time and again to not be as talkative and naive when interacting with the “community” in this city, and that it’s the bitchiest of all, in the country. I didn’t believe it, since I always thought I surrounded myself with people of reasonable character and intellect. Clearly I was wrong.
Some weeks ago, an acquaintance, who is a friend of my flatmate’s (which I can’t imagine why, since my flatmate keeps lamenting how much he badmouths just about anyone he knows), was telling him that he heard from everyone that I had bad breath! He was telling my flatmate! What was he thinking? That my flatmate wouldn’t tell me that he’d said that? And the flatmate was given yet another opportunity to turn around and say, “I told you so”.
A week after the flatmate told me, I’m at a party and I come across Queen Bitch. I give him a polite nod, and he stops to make conversation. I make an excuse and move on, since I have no desire to engage in idle chatter with him. Some minutes later, someone stops me to introduce me to him, at which point I have to interrupt “Oh, we’ve met” and move away. Some more minutes later, I’m standing and talking to a few folks, I turn right and Queen Bitch presents himself there as well. How two faced can the guy get???
It’s of little surprise that another friend from long ago (that Queen Bitch and I have in common), who used to call on the phone often, and make an effort to stay in touch, is now barely cordial when we meet (and put me on a very, VERY limited list on Facebook. I outright removed him).

This is the third incident I hear of being spoken about. The first occurred sometime last year, when a friend suggested I keep a low profile, since he’d observed smirking at the mention of my name. I think I wrote this piece about it, but it could’ve been something family-related instead.

I really can’t imagine how I’ve landed myself in these circumstances. I don’t even know what people out there are saying about me, and who all particularly are doing so. Or if I even know all of them. Or how many of them will avoid me on the basis of what they’ve heard about me.

I need to stop being such an innocent, vulnerable lamb. But to begin with, I think I’ll have to change cities and pretty much start over. Which is difficult since I dislike Delhi, and I’ve ruined Bangalore for myself.

Crossing Paths

7 Dec

Never thought I’d run into him so randomly. Sure I’ve tried putting myself in his path on occasions, hoping to run into him with no idea of what I’d say when I did, but I never thought it would happen when I was not expecting it. Or maybe I did think that it would happen when I was not expecting it, but then every other day is one of the days, and I didn’t think today would be the day.
At first, I instinctively nodded, smiled and tried to walk on. But since he seemed to want to talk, I paused, and conversed. I wonder if he could see that I was feeling awkward. I wonder if he could sense my uneasiness. Suddenly, the person that I’d spend my best 6 months of this year, was the most difficult to talk to. And why wouldn’t it be, because we weren’t snuggling in his bed and talking, as I’d grown accustomed to. Last I could recall us speaking was 2 months ago, when I had asked him to go for a play with me, he had said that he didn’t want to watch it, then I’d found out that he’d gone and watched it anyway, and he lied to me about it when I tried to discretely question him about it. And then there was the briefest RSVP when I invited him to the wedding, and then nothing.

And here I was, wondering what the hell to talk to him about, while waiting for the queue to walk on. In fact, I started rambling about his travels that had happened so long ago, and those that are to happen months later (and have no consequence at present) but I couldn’t think of anything else to talk about, so I rambled.

Eventually, we did go our own ways. He said “I’ll call you sometime this week”, but I really hope he doesn’t. I just wouldn’t know what to say.

And here I am, shaken enough to actually blog about it, while constantly reminding myself that it’s over and done with, and I’m past it, and I’m just being dramatic.

But my best 6 months of the year…

I walk in Pride

1 Dec

This past Sunday, I finally managed to walk my first pride. In fact, this time round I ensured that there was nothing else on my schedule for the big day, unlike last year (although I admit I was relieved to have an excuse not to attend a year ago). I even managed to attend one or two pre-pride events, although not as many as I would’ve wanted, had my work-schedule and other obligations permitted.

The walk was amazing. The energy of the crowd was absolutely fabulous. The numbers were very inspiring, and the number of faces in the crowd were fantastic… all unmasked. I started out with covering my face with shades and a scarf, although those who know me well were able to identify me with little effort. A little after, a friend graciously gave me his mask. A little after that, I got tired of wearing it, and did most of the walk without any mask, just with shades on (which wasn’t intended to be and hence isn’t, the best disguise). It helped that there seemed to be very little media coverage, only a lot of arbitrary people taking photographs and that, I’ve come to realize, can’t be dangerous unless I plan to be a closeted celebrity or a politician someday. (Which I don’t!)

After the march came to an end, a long 2 grueling hours, I had the opportunity to spend some time connecting with a bisexual lady friend, who I absolutely admire and adore to bits even though I see her once in months. She shared some other very revealing and interesting aspects of her life that I hadn’t known before, challenging even my morals, and then we made out later that evening, for fun. The very first time that I made out with something that had breasts on it!

The rest of the after-party was absolutely amazing as well. There was this one guy who I’d interacted with online some years ago, until he decided to, one fine day, pretend that he didn’t know me at all. I’d pretty much avoided him until the day before the pride, when he took it upon himself to hit on me at a pre-pride event. I decided to give into temptation, and allow him to come on to me at the party. So I, yet again, enjoyed random making-out on a dance-floor. I just hope he doesn’t tell his boyfriend, who’s been trying to get into my pants since the day I met him, over a year ago!

I can’t believe I’ve wanted to avoid the parades before this. Then again, I’m sure I wouldn’t have had all this fun if I didn’t know as many people as I did, and that too, some so dearly.

The Right To Choose

1 Nov

Dear Father,
Yesterday, as I sat before your siblings, constantly being insulted over and over… on the charge of having my own priorities, or for daring to speak and not just listen as I was categorically insulted in bullet points… as I sat there, in the face of your brother’s blatant, disgusting, foul hypocrisy… for not conforming to some standard template as expected of me (but surprisingly not his own children)… As you sat there witnessing all of it, and not uttering a word, who knows, maybe enjoying every minute of it, you made a choice, then and there. A choice to limit our relationship to one of cordiality.

I’m no poorer with one less aunt and uncle, but I certainly find it ironic that I’m poorer by a what could have been a strong bond with my father, of who I thought I was a carbon copy. But is now reduced by your actions, your priorities and your choices, to a mere formality.
But am I an image of you, I wonder? Would I fail to value the dignity of my wife and own children, before the ego of my siblings and their offspring? Would I turn a blind eye to the pleas of my own creation? Would I value tradition over emotion?

For all that you’ve been to me, over the years Father, none matter as much as this betrayal…

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