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.

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…

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.

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…

He doesn’t need to hear it, but I need to say it out loud…

Vikram: Meet this weekend?

Me: Sure… How about a play? Or would you rather pretend to not be interested, then watch it anyway, and pretend that you heard it was good but it didn’t work out for you?
Can’t imagine why you felt the need to lie…

Since then, it seems Purab’s managed to move on. He talks of other guys, other crushes. It also makes spending time with him less awkward, though it never was too awkward to begin with. That’s because he was the one with the feelings, and me, the one abusing them.

About two and a half weeks ago, Purab mentioned some friend at work, and how he’d thought about introducing me to that friend, since we’re apparently very suited to each other, in his opinion. However, this friend has been dating someone else for some time, so he couldn’t. He was showing me that friend’s photographs on FB, and I came across one snap of him with an old flame, which didn’t go beyond phone-dating. This friend of Purab’s, who’s very suited for me, is dating the old flame.

Two Fridays ago, I went on a date with what I literally found to be a breath of fresh air. Gagan did not appear to think differently. We spent almost every minute we could in each others’ company, before I had to rush off to work. That Sunday, I arbitrarily called him and ended up spending the night with him and another friend. Not much happened at night, because he’d recently broken up with someone, and couldn’t stop thinking of him. I literally thought I’d found a new, potentially close friend that I would come to be grateful for. Moreover, he kept mentioning how attractive he found me, and I in return, how attractive I found him.
A week later, I landed up at a party with Gagan and Purab. Both of them were supposed to come back to my place, and Gagan was supposed to bring along a (platonic) friend who’d been staying with him for the last day or so. His friend didn’t show. Instead, Gagan brought home an exotic date, who he suggested he wasn’t interested in too much, but kept making out with all night. No idea what took place in their bedroom later that night. But I doubt the ex was on his mind that much, 6 days after.

Today, Purab told me over chat that he’d been chatting up Gagan, and they’d intended to meet for dinner, and he’d intended to stay over. Shortly after, he told me that he’d seen Vikram the previous night, with (mostly insignificant) person I’d chatted briefly with online, before he did a disappearing act. Mostly asocial Vikram, who claims he never goes out on dates because it unduly raises peoples’ expectations. Maybe it wasn’t a date. I have no way of knowing.

Needless to say, I had to sleep off my depression to depressing piano pieces, followed by a short nap. Thankfully, it worked to an extent. I’m not ardently wishing for a hand-gun anymore. But I wouldn’t mind having one anyway.

Him: Hmm not sure what’s on your mind….like I said earlier…check for expectations …with boss and with others

Me: I suppose I misunderstood your expectations early on, and that misunderstanding has faded with time

Him: Call if u’d like to talk…

Me: If I was comfortable talking about it, I would’ve brought it up long ago… I thought age was a barrier, and that misconception was cleared today… So it must be something else?

How shallow of me that I nurture an American dream, only with the hope of finding a mate

How pathetic of me to be willing to renounce that long-nurtured desires, as I lay in his soft embrace

How tragic that I know that I must, but I cannot wait.

Thankfully, so must the bad…

All that’s left is the fateful step. And then, letting go…

I lie here, inches away from him. In the middle of the night. Hearing his every breath. Wanting to crawl into him, where I found such bliss.
How insensitive, how robotic can one get?
Why did I paint these colorful images in my mind? Was it necessary to come all this way, to have this realization?

Should I talk to him? Should I not? Does he know? Does he care?

Will I ever find another like him, but one who cares?

Why in your tight embrace, do I feel so secure?
Each time you leave, I’m left feeling so unsure?
Why must I strive to distract from thoughts of you?
How am I to break from your allure?

You are so perfect, in every which way.
You listen, you laugh, bring out the best in me each day.
Make the right noises, without giving  much away.
But how am I to know if you are really here to stay?

Your home is my temple
Your bed is my shrine
Your visits are a blessing
Your presence is sublime

The sound of your voice
The touch, feel, sight of your greys
I bask in your wisdom
I strive for your affection, more attention
But wonder if it’s not only for me?

You fill up my senses
My heart and my mind
Do not leave, let me rest in your
tight, tight embrace
Even when the sun has set
and risen
and set again
Let us just lay