Tag Archives: Hope

Tired, and Happy To Be

13 Oct

The last few days have been slightly hectic. Yesterday, I had to give a lecture in class (which I volunteered for, hoping to be remunerated with free marks in internal assessment, which didn’t seem to happen) for which I devoted several hours to study, over the weekend.

The lecture, which I assumed would span three quarters of an hour, couldn’t be squeezed even into one hour, and my classmates were damn pissed. Apart from being confused, that is, since I was practically speeding through the subject. The teacher didn’t offer the smallest compliment when I was done, even though I covered it in more detail than he would’ve, had he taught it himself.

Today, I had to take yet another class, which I thought would take 20 minutes but instead spanned 45. For this lecture, though, I’d hardly prepared. Thankfully, the teacher was even worse off than I was, and I was able to faff a decent bit and get away with it. She summarised by saying that I had done “very well” and handed me full marks in my next tutorial (god bless her soul).

Finally, the ordeal ended with an event that my club was organising. Standard Group Discussions, actually, except that I conceptualised the topics in a rather innovative way. The response was rather good, and the feedback on our (my) effort was damn encouraging! I also felt in control and seemed to rattle off sufficient feedback and advice to the contestants. I don’t mean to boast (but I cannot help it) but the judge, a faculty member trained in that regard, seemed impressed and asked me to offer my feedback to every contestant after he had given his. Yay!

Tomorrow, I have my final year photo-shoot. The University, it seems, is prepared to bid us goodbye. For this momentous occasion, I’m wearing pretty much the same ensemble I wore for my folks’ anniversary do, last winter, with the addition of a pink tie and a clip-on earing. My hair is unmanageable nowdays, and will remain so tomorrow as well, I suppose. Tragic! I’m going to give my violet-coloured contacts another go. If they prove to be far too uncomfortable, I’ll have to settle, of course, for my sister’s (now mine) dark brown ones. Either way, the eyes must look interesting!

To culminate the eventful week, I’m heading off to Goa this weekend. The company is bordering experimental. Planning is in advanced stages, and everything is booked. So while all of you sit down to write your sentimental and melancholic posts on Diwali with family, I’ll hopefully be dancing at Tito’s!

More later, Ciao!

Building Bonds

18 Jul

I suppose it’s become a regular exercise to slip back into my archives on the eve of each departure, and revisit my thoughts at those times.
So I just finished reading the last 2 posts I wrote on each of those occasions. I’m quite thankful that this time, when I come back (hoping that I do), it’ll be for good.

But if there’s one thing I want to do meanwhile, it is to build and secure my roots and acquaintances here, in Delhi. When I come back, I want to feel at home… as if I never left. And feeling at home, in our case, doesn’t mean being on great terms with the parents, or being familiar with one’s surroundings, because that’s a difficult thing to do for someone like me, who feels ostracized even before it has happened.
Feeling at home means having a defined social circle, and people to fall back on if the situation arises. Feeling at home means having someone to meet up with for a coffee or for a party. Feeling at home means being able to always find company for a movie.

I felt blessed to have met many new people this time, each forming a pleasant acquaintance or friendship. Interestingly, some of these were built or at least initiated over the internet, during last semester, and I’m thankful to the internet for that.

As I get ready to depart for college, I think it’s time for me to start preparing to move back to Delhi. A contradiction, I know, but so be it.

It’s also time for me to start taking bolder steps to foster and settle into my identity, as it is becoming or as I would want it to be.

I’m thankful for all the people that I met this time, that I couldn’t but will, and that I hope to meet in the future. And I’m thankful for all the new and refreshing experiences. The excitement of my first gay party, the boredom of my 5th. My first date, my second date (first movie date). Sneaking out after midnight, sneaking back in.

This was one memorable trip!
Thank you all, and thank you Delhi!

PS to Chandu – Coffee on Dec 16th, if you (and I) are free? I’ll drive down to wherever…

I think I…

14 Jul

…might have my very first official date tomorrow…

We met over coffee today (IN MY VERY OWN NEIGHBOURHOOD) and we’re planning to meet tomorrow. If not for dinner, then for a party.

I’m positively worried.

I’m an Uncle again!

6 Jul

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!! ๐Ÿ˜€ ๐Ÿ˜€

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 ๐Ÿ˜€

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 :’)

When destiny holds you back…

20 Apr

I have few recollections from the past, but several that my memory has held on to happen to revolve around one of my enduring desires. Most of these memories are isolated frames. I don’t recall anything else that happened on that day, just the day itself.

The first was at one of the various pre-wedding ceremonies prior to my cousin brother’s marriage. It was at some venue or hotel near the International Airport, in Delhi. I must’ve been not more than 9-10 at the time. As soon as I heard of the hotel’s location, I was scanning every direction for the sight of the airport. I was listening eagerly for the sound of an airplane. An international airline aircraft.

At some point, I recall looking at a building or structure of some sort, with a sloping metallic roof. I asked someone if that was the airport. They responded in affirmative, probably just to shut me up…
On hearing the response, I looked on. With some sort of vague fascination.

The next memory I recall happened maybe 4-5 years ago. It was a few weeks after I’d received a letter of invitation for a Conference in New York, after a friend had invited me. When he told me over the phone that he was inviting me, I was overjoyed and started daydreaming about it. I told my mother over the phone, and desperately started seeking her assent to attend. The conference was slightly expensive, but affordable.
As always, she didn’t really comment on it. It always frustrated me. Had she said yes, it would’ve given me a sense of calm for the rest of the evening.
A few days later, I suppose after a lot of harassment with repeated questions from me, she succumbed, and said that I could go.
Around that time, I remember a car-drive to Gurgaon to someones home. I saw the runway lights and looked in the direction of the International Airport. The conference was only a few months away. I touched the glass of the window, trying to reach out. And 2 words were turning over and over in my mind… “I’m coming”

Meanwhile, my resilience at the Engineering Coaching Instt. wore thin (I didn’t want to do engineering at that time… and to think of it, I still don’t…) and I finally dropped out. Mom was angry.
The time came to complete the formalities of the conference, and it was never once mentioned. Later, she told me it was because I had dropped out.

The next year, I got another invitation. Before receiving it, I’d asked Mom if I could go this time, if I wasย re-invited. She said I could. And then it came. I was overjoyed, yet again.
I confirmed it with her, because I wanted to mention it in my foreign application, which I could do only if I was going for sure. She said I could. So I mentioned it.
The time came to complete the formalities. It was during my Board Exams. The conference was never mentioned. The opportunity passed again.

Fast forward 3 years. Just about the same time. I applied for Internships abroad. I got one in Brazil. I asked at home if I could go. They were unsure. I attempted to convince. They told me to go ahead with formalities.
I applied. Ten days back, I got a confirmation.
Meanwhile, they were uncertain at home. They were speaking to anyone and everyone around. Those with little or no foreign exposure kept insisting that working in India was good enough, that India was a better environment for an internship in IT. I kept repeating to them that to me, it was more of an opportunity to travel… as a student. Live out the unfulfilled aspirations of the 8 year old, the 17 and the 18 year old. Mom kept harping that I’d get lots of opportunities in life to work abroad. I’d respond that I would not, in the capacity of a student. That I wouldn’t get to travel, and see places and have a cultural exchange, instead of only a financial one.

More opposition. More arguments. Eventually, the entire enthusiasm of being selected for the internship, getting my confirmation from Brazil, the anticipation, the excitement, the thought of the adventure wore thin. A week back, after another heated argument on the phone, I wrote to the organisation that was arranging the internship that I had to withdraw my application for whatever reasons.
This summer, countless acquaintances will board their crafts and fly away, and I shall continue to stand some distance from the runway, hoping that I too get to board an aircraft some day.

I think I’m done with having any faith… I wish I could go back to being the 8 year old, who would turn every corner hoping to discover opportunity; and not disappointment.

Summer Calling

28 Feb

So I have to complete a technical training this summer. In the winters, when I was at home, I planned to get a nice long one in Bangalore. Then the semester started, I made some 2-3 friends online, based in Delhi. No romantic angles or possibilites, but just normal, gay friends to hang out and be myself with.

So should it be Bangalore or Delhi? The school-friend (say Pradeep) who discovered me (refer previous post) recommended the party scene in Delhi and Bombay, and condemned Bangalore. Then again, Bangalore is the gay capital of India.
There’s lesser freedom in Delhi, because I’d be at home. There’s lesser freedom in Bangalore because I’d be living with the sister, and she’d perpetually be around!

Then again, I’d meet up with the several recently acquired gay friends in Delhi, and I’d coax Pradeep into familiarising me with the party circuit.
Alternatively, I’d venture out alone in B’lore, in a city where rules are fewer, and no one knows me, and find the scene myself.

Today, the results to my application for an international summer internship came in. I kept my expectations as low as I could, bearing in mind what a disappointment last year was.
I made one ๐Ÿ™‚
So I just might end up spending the summer in a tropical country south of America, in the south hemisphere. Known for sunny beaches, hot HOT men and so on and so forth!

Fingers crossed ๐Ÿ˜€

Festive anticipation

31 Dec

I recall the lone New Year resolution that I made a year ago. That at the end of year 2008, I would be ushering in 2009 in the company of friends, far away from my parents (unlike last year). And god bless, with mom far away from town with her family, sister down south, and dad at his friend’s place, I will be joining some college friends at a house party! Lord be praised!

From what I hear, it’s going to be a smallish gathering. I don’t know many people there, but there’s always opportunity to make acquaintences. Since college started, I’ve become quite good at it, even if the frequencies don’t match. I make them!

Even though it’s going to be a sober affair, I refuse to not-dress well. Which signals a return to those darned boots that will be tearing the flesh off my feet once again. But so be it! I have nothing else (new and) worthwhile to wear. I may be a bit overdressed at a relatively sober get-together, where booze is the only consideration, but so be it.

Well, here’s wishing you all a very very happy new year. I hope the party goes well, and I don’t end up regretting last year’s resolution. I shall make this year’s tomorrow (when I return home). And I must make my horoscope forecast for Year 2009 as well!

Ta everyone, and break a leg!