The Unsung Psalm

My Life is a Public Blog

              - The Unsung Psalm

No, I do not intend to leave your burning in envy with another tale of someone expressing affection for me. That didn’t happen all that much today. (Only a little. And it was more of appreciation. ‘Twas a girl, too. Okay, maybe I should make a mention of that…)

So I was walking to dinner with 2 friends and heading towards the Auto Stand. We were crossing the deserted college building and this girl with another guy, from the sea of unknown faces, passed from before us. We were minding out own business until the girl stopped us with an extremely loud “Excuse me?”

I turned around. “Were you the <something something> at the <a certain event>?” Incidentally, I had been the “something something” at that “certain event” that she referred to, over 2 years ago.

“Oh my god! I was there too! You were head of the…”

“It was the <a certain body>,” I filled in. It had been a body with 95 people that I was presiding, so I didn’t exactly recall her.

Anyway, we then made casual conversation. She had joined an adjoining college of Journo. I congratulated her, flattered her a bit and then made an excuse to run lest she expect me to remember anything else about her from 2 years ago. Needless to say, I was so flattered. She did say another thing or two to leave me absolutely floored with humility, that I now cannot recall since I felt so exalted that my mind began to malfunction! It feels glorious to be recognised, especially 2 years after one should have been forgotten.

Coming back to Puppy Love. No, it is not metaphorical. It involves an actual puppy.

KT and I were heading back to her home, where I was to drop her off. As we walked on a somewhat deserted road outside the campus, a puppy began walking along with us. She tried to shoo him away, but I stopped her from, and indulged him a bit. Golly, did he follow us. The creature was absolutely adorable and quite tiny. I would’ve mauled him with kisses, as I would have with a million other strays if they weren’t, well stray.

I just adore mongrels. They look so friendly, innocent and carry an appearance that screams “I didn’t do it! Please stop screaming at me.” or “I just had a break-up with my partner of 20 years, because he cheated on me.” They all look as melancholic, so hurt. It’s their regular look, really. And it’s all conspiracy on their part for all you know. But my heart melts each time I look at one, especially into its eyes.

So this one began following us. He was most amusing. He would keep a distance, yet always be within range. Sometimes he would trail, at others, he would cross the road, run far past us, and walk 20 steps ahead of us, almost as if leading us. On 2 occasions, we stopped dead hoping he would head elsewhere, for I didn’t have the heart of trying to drive him away through violent gestures or words. He would initially keep moving forward, not realising that we had stopped, but would eventually notice us standing, and would stop in his tracks.

Eventually, KT and I split ways on my suggestion, so that I could lead him away from her and she could head home without being stalked. The plan worked, but I had no idea as to how I’d get rid of him once I reached my hostel building.

Onwards, I kept walking. He kept following, sometimes 10 steps behind, but mostly 15 steps ahead, rampantly crossing the road again and again, pretending to show me the way. As I neared the Hostel Gate and turned in towards it, the puppy kept moving forward, and we parted ways. Unfortunately, I wasn’t all that relieved, because from the sight of it, he had started following another set of people who had appeared. I felt a little cheated. Bizarre? I certainly agree. But really, can you really accept rejection from someone who looks like this?

I was flipping through some old newspapers as a chore for Mum, some days back, when my eye caught a rather perplexing Headline. “Rahul seeks an Open-Minded Girl”, it said. That left me utterly confused. He actually claimed that he wanted to marry a girl? My Gaydar may not be the best in the world, but I know a Homo when I see one. And Rahul, m’friends, seems a prospective candidate for the clan. He’s perfectly qualified, is he not? Famous, fair, dashing, rich, sophisticated, kind and fabulous with children…in other words, too perfect to be straight. So how could he go about publicly stating that he sought an open-minded girl, when he had never made comments on the matter before? How could he, so easily, dash my dreams? Thus, I read on…

“Hopefully I will get married soon,” came the reply. “I don’t know who is my ideal match. If I knew, I would be married by now. But yes, my ideal match would have to be an open-minded person who wants to understand the world from other people’s points of view.”

- Rahul Gandhi, Supreme Hottie

True to my convictions, there was not one mention of the sex of this open-minded “person”.

The media sure can misinterpret and exaggerate, can it not!

Well, it’s frightening but laziness has started to kick in, whereby I just don’t feel like writing in to you guys. Which is wrong, because I have things to share! Important things!
I must write, yes, yes, I must!

Well, today had another one of those weird moments. It so happens that there’s yet another guy in my batch who I suspect to be you-know-what. He’s super-cute, smart and desirable. Unfortunately, he lives off-campus so I hardly ever see him. At the maximum, once in a semester. I must have spoken to him all-in-all, about 10 times till date. But naturally, we’re friendly and all.
Why do I think he’s you-know-what? Simple! He’s super-cute, super-friendly, amazing with girls and single. Well, to the best of my knowledge. And he has been for 2 years. Alika (my age-old homophobic friend) thinks so as well. Once we were crossing each other, I gave him the cordial nod, he returned a wink and a kiss! Weird, right?
Anyway, I saw him today after eons. I was standing and speaking to someone amidst a huge bustling crowd that was descending the stairs, and he walked towards me from a distance. Our eyes met and I smiled, extending my hand to take his. “There’s my friend Unsung” (or something to that effect) he exclaimed and took me into a massive hug! I was absolutely flabbergasted! “Errrr… okay!” was all I could manage to say, and I stood there, waiting for him to let go. Why didn’t I put my arms around him and attempt to have my own little fantastical moment? Because I was extremely conscious! It was so totally unexpected, and as I said, I hardly know him!
Then we walked down the stairs together and chatted a bit. I’m a social person here, quite social, so I sort of manage well at the making-conversation-with-people-I-hardly-otherwise-speak-to tasks.
Incidentally, this guy does happen to be one of the few fellows I hope I’ll end up with eventually (eventually being one year-ago) and I’m glad that even if I do not, at least I’ll be able to look back at this wacky and perplexing event!

I started out saying that today was “another one” of those moments. Have I spoken of the guy who I befriended during my summer course? Yes, it seems I have. Well, he’s this other guy from college who, again, I only knew vaguely. I never even acknowledged him here, except for maybe a short period of time. Once when I randomly nodded when our paths crossed, he again responded with a wink-and-a-kiss. Really!
Anyhow, that was eventually forgotten. Much over a year passed, and we met again in the summer course. As we had significant common ground in that place away from home, we naturally got talking (amongst others) and became quite friendly (the social animal that I am).
So towards the last few days, I helped him out a bit with his computer. Nothing super-heroic. He expressed his gratitude by saying, “Thanks, love you Psalm.”

I heard “I love you Psalm” many times after. Twice, he shouted it in the corridor. I was most puzzled and still don’t know what it was about. Once when one of the other gang realised that he was openly proclaiming his “love” for me, they started joking about it. He also joked back, but both side’s comments were so bizarre, I don’t think anyone made any headway on understanding the going-ons at the moment, so it was abandoned.
On the way back, I got an sms from him wishing me a goodbye, hoping that I had a good time in the last few days of hols and “Luv ya Psalm.” I was on Roaming Charges so I didn’t exactly message him back. The other day, we re-united in college and he confronted me regarding my failure to respond to his message. He tried to guilt me!
What is perplexing is that he’s tall and smart, talented, attractive, very friendly with girls, single… all confusing, I say! So he has equal probability of flopping to either side.
Why is the world so confusing?

And why do so many love me so and I still end up single? No, life is not fair!

It’s another of those nights again. The night before I return to college. I lie on my bed, twisting and turning but unable to sleep. No, it’s not anticipation. There isn’t anything unforseen about tomorrow. But tonight, I feel sick in the stomach, quite like I have felt each time I left home after a long stay, since last year.
I look around my room and not very much has changed. This is where I grew. Yes, one day we must all leave. I left, a few years ago, yet I return, sometimes at length. Then, when the time comes to go back to college, it feels like departure all over again. Only that it is much worse now, as it has been for the past one year. I can’t believe it’s only 4 days short of a year when I met Arun online. The first one.
Each time I leave, hence, I feel that I’m leaving him, even though I never really was with him to begin with. Each time, I feel I’m moving so far away from the place that he calls home, the place that I began to consider home since last year, that I don’t want to go anymore. I feel that Delhi is where I will find love. At least, I won’t find love where I live. By leaving Delhi, I’m leaving the possibility of love behind. I don’t want to go.
When I step onto the train tomorrow, god help me. On each of the journeys before this, I have written Arun letters every time. These letters are never delivered to him, of course. I have no way of contacting him. But I write them anyway, just to drain my emotions that build inside me to the point of explosion. Those letters I wrote lie collected on a disk back in college. Maybe I’ll post one or two here, sometime, when I get back. Maybe I’ll post the one I have right now, tomorrow.
Yes, lying here in the darkness of my room, I cease to think that I’m all grown up now. I can once again imagine myself as a child. All the anger, the maturity, the possessiveness, the materialism is gone, only as long as the darkness remains. When the sun rises, I may forget this moment I’m in right now. All alone, at one with my childhood.
Tomorrow, when I leave the room, I’ll once again leave my younger self. The Boy. Somehow, I feel that the spirit of The Boy still lurks in this room. It makes an appearance on the last night, like tonight. And a few other nights. It reminds me of what I was…silent, struggling, scared, lost. Unhappy. Lost. Lost.
I feel guilty that I never think about The Boy. But he is a chapter that I had closed. Should I open it again? Why does his essence remain in this room, and show itself on the last night, before the sun has risen? What is he trying to tell me? Is he trying to tell me anything? Does he feel lonely here when I’m gone? Or is he happy being near Ma? Is he happy being away from me? Does he know who I am? Does he understand me, as I understand him… because I was him?
Does he like me, or dislike me?
It is my last night, and the boy is lurking. Maybe I’ll talk to him a little longer.

I sometimes have these funny fantasies. It’s like this. I’m with my boyfriend, who is significantly older and vastly successful. He adores me immensely, and I feel that I’m the only one who can exercise some sort of control over him, as he obeys my every wish (when justified.)

One day, he’s meeting with some new clients, probably in a nice classy public place such as a restaurant, or a club. I join him a little late and proceed to sit beside him. Then, I notice that his client is sitting before us and is a cousin of mine! One of my older cousins, who’re married and with kids.

The cousin is shocked to see me with a guy, let alone one so much elder to me. And here I am, sitting arm-in-arm with a guy my cousin (now over 30) addresses, possibly as a superior. I’m outed to the family by my rich, successful and divine boyfriend! But I don’t care because they at least know, now, that I’m with him…Because I bagged something worthwhile. And because I go to bed with someone who is worth envying!

As I said, I have funny fantasies sometimes.

The tirade of awkward dreams continue. I thought I’d document this one as soon as I could, before I forgot it. Some day, I hope to dig into my archives, read up all of these and interpret them, with a guide in my hand.

So Will (From Will & Grace) who I love so much, was the protagnoist in the dream. No, well, I was. But he was quite prominent as well. He was dying with AIDS. Does it sound bizarre? Will&Grace come to Philadelphia? Well, that’s how it is.

I was beside him in the entire dream. At a point, we were returning home (wherever that was) and the antagonists, whose identity I cannot recall now, left him hurt in a street with the security cameras broken so that they couldn’t be nabbed, while I was away getting transport. I came back, discovered him and proceeded to get him to a hospital in a public Indian bus. Again, bizarre? Oh-so-totally. All this while, I was clinging to him with my dear life. Bizarre? Don’t-you-dare-say-that!

I believe Jack was also ill somewhere in the dream. It seems HIV had hit the Will&Grace show.

Which makes me wonder… was there ever any mention of HIV in the Will&Grace show? At all?

I have funny dreams, occasionally. For instance, 2 days ago I remember dreaming that I was wanting to play that role “in bed”, which I do not prefer. And never imagine myself playing. But in the dream, I was wanting to play it, and earnestly too. I wonder if such desires would arise in real life.

Then, last night, I dreamed that I had recorded my own voice on some device, and was playing it back to myself. In my dream, I loved the sound of my own voice, which I actually despise in reality, because I find it far too nasal. Though it isn’t all that pleasant, but I suppose I do exaggerate it a bit. Everyone does, right? Nobody likes to hear themselves…sing, for instance. I initially thought it was only me, but then a friend mentioned it was a general rule. However, I am getting used to my own singing, and starting to like it too… a fact that many who have heard me would find hard to digest!

I recall the first time I did a bit of voice chat with Arun. I was tremendously conscious of my voice. The connection was weak, so we only got to hear a bit of each other, and once we had returned to text chat, I expressed my concerns over how much I hated my own voice. He responded saying, “Don’t ever say that again”, something he’d say each time I criticised myself over anything. Those words used to send my heart fluttering. That they came on our 3rd day of conversation with him left me floored. Even today, it still hurts a bit that I can never read/hear thoes words from him again.

Yes, dreams are a reflection of one’s strongest desires. There was the dream in which I met Shan (formerly LR) somewhere in Denmark, and we were getting all cuddly. Do I see it happening in reality? I have my doubts.

Dreams sure are pleasant while they last. But once you awaken, they mock you, because real life could never be so sweet.

I realised today that each time I step out of the house, I step a little bit towards the door of the closet, to put my ear against it and hear what’s going on outside. Someone now or then threatens to absent-mindedly open the door. Or maybe a storm strikes and blows it open. One can never be too prepared for such an event, and risks exposure at any time.

Well, I stepped out today to meet some relatives with mom. During the outing, we had to pick up an external HardDrive that I have been wanting for eons, that she finally decided to let me buy when my parents’ friend (who I dub as her new boyfriend, owing to the amount of time she’s been spending with him, and as they sms each other so often etc.) told her off for not catering to her children’s wants, during a dinner that he took her out for while Dad was out of town. The friend is of the same generation as my folks, but still unmarried but dating.

(I know it sounds like some hanky-panky is going on! Though I know there isn’t, I <i>love</i> to tease her, alleging it. And dad as well. Dad says he has no objection whatsoever if she decides to go away with another man who’d satistfy her, which he considers impossible. I encourage her to take the challenge. She insists that if she leaves home, it will be with dignity, and not for another man. Yes, our family is weird. Yes, sometimes I wonder if I encourage them both a little too much to separate, going by how incompatible they are!)

Anyway, so this friend of their’s told her off. He also offered to help us pick one out. So he went to the relevant location, and hunted one out. We joined him, to purchase it. He was making conversation with me, asking about college. I was boasting about how good life was. He asked me, “So you’ve got a girlfriend?” to which I honestly responded in negative. “What? Come on, yaar. 2 years… start enjoying life. You’re not gay, are you?” he asked, almost in one breath.

“No, nothing like that,” I lied in quick reflex. He didn’t leave me with enough time to think of a smart-enough and honest-enough response. And mom was listening.

A few hours later, I was proudly looking at my new acquisition as we were heading back to our relatives’. I was wondering how the day was proving to be so lucky, for I never have lucky days. Each day of mine is balanced, with positive and negative events distributed evenly through it’s course.

We were re-entering the house when my cousin, who’s a year younger than I am, came out with a cricket bat, followed by his Oh-so-cute-friend. This is a friend who I had conversed with only once, a year ago, and who had asked me to spend the night over with him and my cuz. I had nearly accepted, much to my cousin’s surprise, as I <i>never</i> accept his stay-over invites. I find him a bit dull!

So as I was saying, I was re-entering the house, and they were stepping out to play cricket. Cricket! The very sound of the word gives me shivers. I never played the game when I was young, as I was gay. Now, I wish I had even if I had despised it, so that I wouldn’t seem <i>so</i> gay anymore. And I’m sure I could’ve been good at it.

He invited me to join them. Mom looked at me, intimidatingly. She always curses me for being so “pansy” and not playing sport. Like Hello! Could’ve said that when I was 5! I cannot learn a sport at 20, playing with experts! I strongly intend to learn Tennis when I go back to college. Really! It’s a shame I quit basketball… I was in the (excellent_ school team too!

So I stood there pretending to read smses I hadn’t receieved. I turned down his invitations to Bowl, Bat. I pretended to field, but hardly did. I realised that this was the Evening-out factor of the day. Ugh!

So I stood there, feeling so gay. I thought that I looked gay, standing there and not playing with my own cousin. I felt exposed. I felt that he knew. His super-cute friend knew.

And I could not do anything. At all.