Andar-wear

So it’s like this. Straight indian men have this horrific habit that troubles me so. Is it just straight men? Or are the gay ones infected by it too?

It’s late enough in the morning and you need to start the day. Naturally, you’d start it off with a bath and get all nice and clean. Unfortunate as it is, the establishment you’re in does not offer you an attached toilet with your room, and instead offers a large common toilet at the end of the corridor. So you carry your bath-related belongings and strut off towards it. What would one conventionally carry? Soap/Shower-gel, shampoo, towel, a top, underwear etc… right?

But my esteemed temporary room-mate, who was once a room-mate for many months 2 years ago, does not consider a top a necessity, which is alright by me. I can make my peace with it. But to not carry underwear??

No, he does not walk back showing off his “pride”. He carries a pair of boxers. “Well, that’s underwear, isn’t it?” I hear you asking.

Not for him. So he returns to the room, wraps the towel around his waist, wiggles the boxer off, puts on fresh underwear, and is full of glee.

WHY OH WHY? WHY can he not just CARRY the bloody underwear to the bath, HANG it on the lovely hooks that they’ve provided, WEAR it when he’s done and NOT change out of one and into another 5 steps away from me?

It’s a revolting habit! What if the towel fell of? What would I be subjected to then? Has he ever been considerate enough to consider it? Why can’t he just wear it inside the bathroom itself? It IS andar-wear after all!

He’s not the only one, unfortunately. My present room-mate does quite the same. With the exception that my current room-mate is far more appealing to look at (No, I have no sort of attraction to him) and I wouldn’t be grossed out if I glanced at his Jerry Wong.

Hey You! Yes YOU, reading this! Do YOU do the same? If yes, WHY?

I know I’m pathetic with all my biases and hypocrisies. But this is MY space, and I’m allowed to be. So there!

*Sob Sob* and some more…

So I had to rush to a dilapidated college campus in a remote location in Uttar Pradesh, for a 22 day summer course. Though the academic component of this, er, “experience” is above standards, the residential facilities…

To begin with, there are few bigger crimes in this universe than forcing me into a situation whereby I must use an Indian-Style lavatory for 22 days. No really, it is punishable by god in terms of an after-life in the dungeons of hell. Hence, that is where these people shall suffer in a few decades.
The rooms are brilliant! Only just painted. By just, I mean that they were painted on the day we moved in. And scarcely cleaned. Thus, I cannot lean against a wall, and can put my belongings on very select pieces of furniture, as everything else is coated with paint-dust. The weather alternates between hot and humid. Insects are in abundance.
In our room, my room-mate and I must sit in minimal clothing, being confined to below-waist. This is essential as with anything more than that, I sweat even when directly under the fan. On the flip-side, my over-exposed self is attacked every 1/16th of a second by an insect or twenty-two. Moreover, I must often have to bear with the sight of my room-mate’s exposed, er, outer-shell, which I find most unappealing. He could say quite the same since I’m quite bloated with a 2-day backlog of food inside my system, which is a direct consequence of my reserving visits to the toilet only in case of extremities.

(Right, so 2 seconds ago, our course instructor walked into the room to enquire about our “well-being” as I hastened to clothe myself a bit appropriately. His gang of admirers who followed behind, cheered as they saw me trying to conceal my modesty. Sheesh!)

I initially found the food horrific. I was glad about that since I could consume round about as much as I “refused” but it now appears that I’m growing to make my peace with it, and thus my appetite is increasing! Yikes!

The days end early. There is nothing to do here, nowhere to go, nothing to gaze at. The boys are either hideous or uncouth. The ladies are quite gentlemanly in appearance, so even that is not an option. Will I ever get out of here!

I exchange a few messages with my new 30-year-old sms partner several times a day. I wonder if I’ll meet him upon return. I wonder if I should. What if it goes off like y first date? I’m almost certain I’ll be put off. What if he’s unimpressed? That would be a nightmare! And all of this over coffee?
But will we have coffee? Seen with a person 10 years my senior in a public place? That could be dicey. What if an acquaintance walked in? How would I wiggle out of that?
Advise please 😦