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Saturday at Cochin

I don't know how I managed to get up. But I did. And I got to the station in time for my train to Cochin. Early in the morning with only hope of a wonderful vacation, kickstarted by this unplanned, but promising trip to see my best friends.

Not surprisingly, I fell asleep immediately as the train started. I didn't wake up until the train grinded into a halt at the station. After eating a breakfast from the Indian Coffee House (it reminded me of my undergrad days when we used to have regular meals from the Indian Cofffee House near our college), I rang up Dr. R.

He instructed me to catch a bus and then an autorickshaw and I was there in an hour. The Hospital where he was working these days is a sub-district level hospital with multple specialties. A nice place. Or so it seemed. I was distinctly disturbed by the fact that Dr. R. was not the calf self that I was so impressed with and attracted with. Later on, he gave me the reason as well.

As I was visiting during the OPD hours, he was busy with patients and attending to emergencies at the Casualty. He showed me the waiting room for the Medical Officers where I waited and eventually, slept off. After some time, before Dr. R. came, a couple of his colleagues came and I had to wake up. I intorduced myslelf and gradually a conversation set in. Mostly casual talk. But since I was the guest, it was centered on my post-graduation and the situation in Maharashtra/Mumbai.

Soon, Dr. R. made his way in. A couple more of his colleagues too joined in. Dr. R. was making plans for a special luncheon, at a hotel called 'Kayvees', supposedly famous for its Biriyani. When we were driving to it, I was surprised by the state of mental affairs with Dr. R. He was not the usual calm and cool stuff. He had doubts and self-doubts over everything. He hadn't lost weight but he looked thinner. Apparently, his workload was heavy and he was finding it difficult to cope with that. As it turned out, his Diabetes was uncontrolled thanks to the extra stress. The conversation generally was not as warm as I had expected it to be. Short sentences. Abrupt, prolonged pauses interspersed.

The meal which followed was sumptuous. Maybe I was missing the usual Kerala fish-curry meal too much. By the end of it, I had had a conversation with Ray and we had decided to meet at the Marine Drive. So, I say bye to Dr. R. who had made it very clear that he was expecting me for Dinner at his place.

I reached Marine Drive as Raghu made his way. We decided to not go for a movie was we had planned earlier. Instead, we hung out at the Marine Drive's Barista first. Her, I must say that the experience at the Barista there was apalling. As compared to the ones in Mumbai, the coffee was bland. The waiters didn't know what was on the menu. The music which was played over a cheap set of speakers lacked even the faintest hint of bass. And forgive heavens; they were playing 'Evanescence'. Plus, tThe youngsters were chatting too loudly. That too, in havvily Malllu tinted English.

On that note, I should mention that I'm surprised to find myself hating the accent here. As of now, I still love Malayalam. But onlyin its pure form or in the accents up North. The accent down south is so irritating.

After our coffe and the delicious Chocoloate Pastry (I forget to recall the name of it), we decided to stroll. We had to catch up. And we had to men-spot as well. We did both of that. Ray had a couple more of experiences of cruising in the bus. It had me jealous of him and his prowess. Then we spent sometime eyeing the men-candy on display.

The evening came fast and I got a call from Dr. R. asking me about when I was coming. Until then, I hadn't decided. But the voice at the other end seemed like it needed some reassurance. I felt that he wanted me to go there and emphasize the fact that I found him a great friend. Even though, I wanted to go to Ray's home as well, I decided that Dr. R.'s home-visit was far more important.

After some trouble with regards to buses and routes, I reached Dr. R.'s place at around 8 pm. His family was small and sweet. A warm welcome from his wife and his two daughters made me remember the time last year when he used to tell me about his beloved home. I knew that I was supposed to stay there overnight and start in the morning.

I was not sure of that myself. I called home to ask when I should come. Pops wanted me to come back by 8 in the morning. I took that as an excuse to get out and travel in the night. Why? For obvious reasons. I wanted to try out 'cruising'. What better time than late night on a long bus journey to seduce a man!

I get freshened up and have my meal. It is delicious. So different from Mumbai. So different from what I would get at home. After that, I'm offered, by Dr. R., to be dropped to the town where I could catch a bus/train back home.

In the conversation inside his car, I ask him why he has changed so much from the last time I met him. He says 'Now, it is different life. There is nothing but responsibilities. And I'm finding it hard to manage it.'.

I felt sad for him as I walked to the bus stand. Not that I could have done something to help him. But still, maybe I could have just stayed back and made him feel happier (I hope).

I couldn't even bother the ponder too much over that thought as the exciting prospect of the bus journey lay ahead. I was careful to choose the right bus and the right seat (next to a near-60 year old man). I initiated things with a carelessly placed hand over thigh. I couldn't advance much further as the guy was not very receptive. Maybe be insensitive to such provocations.

Eventually, sleep won me over for the third time in the day. I overslept again and I was woken up by the man who I tried to seduce at the bus station in my hometown. I got out feeling great about the fact that I finally debuted at something which I was going to require throughout my life.

Now, I didn't want to spoil my already wonderful vacation by going to that function which I was supposed to attend. I lingered in the bus stand for another half an hour so that I reached home by early morning. I made myself appear exhausted and slept off right in front of my parents who must have told me to reach the function as soon as I can.

But I executed my plan to perfection and slept off till late evening.

Saturday at Cochin

I reached Marine Drive as Raghu made his way. We decided to not go for a movie was we had planned earlier. Instead, we hung out at the Marine Drive's Barista first. Her, I must say that the experience at the Barista there was apalling. As compared to the ones in Mumbai, the coffee was bland. The waiters didn't know what was on the menu. The music which was played over a cheap set of speakers lacked even the faintest hint of bass. And forgive heavens, they were playing 'Evanescence'. Plus, tThe youngsters were chatting too loudly. That too, in havvily Malllu tinted English.

On that note, I should mention that I'm surprised to find myself hating the accent here. As of now, I still love Malayalam. But only it its pure form or in the accents up North. The accent down south is so irritating.

I was not sure of that myself. I called home to ask when I should come. Pops wanted me to come back by 8 in the morning. I took that as an excuse to get out and travel in the night. Why? Obvious reasons. I wanted to try out 'cruising'. What better time than late night on a long bus journey to seduce a man!

I felt sad for him as I walked to the bus stand. Not that I could have done something to help him. But still, maybe I could have just stayed back and made him feel happier (I hope).

But I executed my plan to perfection and slept off till late evening.

Chuck almost rescued me before Ray did

Thankfully, Chuck came home in the afternoon. He had come to fetch some CDs that I had burned for him and was in a hurry to reach back home after a tiring day at the hospital. But I wanted to talk to him about my problem. Somehow I managed to make him listen to my problems.

I explained that even though I didn't have no physical/sexual feelings for Dr. R. I just had a regular friendship sort of affection. But I was worried that if Dr. R. somehow came to know about my orientation and my liking for older men, he would misunderstand my purposes of hanging out with him. I wouldn't even want to think of the such a possibility which might hurt him and me so badly.

I was surprised to know that he had noticed my 'closeness' to Dr. R. during previous weeks. Apparently, he had a suspicion that I was having a sexual liking for Dr. R.

I convinced him that I hadn't. But he still holds the opinion that a close friendship with a person who fits in your image of a lover/spouse might turn into a physical relationship or the craving for one.

We went out shopping. That really eased my blues a bit. But once I was back at home, the doubt was killing me.

I don't know why but I really wanted to tell Dr. R. about my true nature and I wanted to make him understand that even though I was gay and gerontophilic, I wasn't eyeing him in that fashion. I was so desperate to get in touch with him that I sent him an SMS saying that I was feeling very depressed. He returned the courtesy with a call. I talked with him about his afternoon. He had been reading the text books. After some time talking, he hung up.

I was so depressed after that I couldn't do anything in the evening. I had to talk to someone. I called Ray up and asked him if he was free to lend me an ear. He asked me to come over.

We talked for an hour or so. He cheered me up. I don't know how, but I feel okay now.

But the question still persists. I have to really think. Do I have some sort of a physical thing for Dr. R.?

I thought for about a couple of hours. I have finally decided that I didn't.

Professor + Dr. S.!

Another usual day at the hospital. I have another wedding to attend; this time my friend’s sister is getting married. I’m not close to this friend even. Why should I bother? You will understand why?

After the grand rounds, during which I’m constantly eyeing my professor, he asks if anyone is accompanying him to a wedding. No one volunteers. Suddenly, I work out the possibilities. I ask him

’Where is the wedding?’

’At the X Club Hall!’

‘What a coincidence, I’m too invited for the same wedding. I’ll come with you.’ Needless to say, everyone is surprised including me and my professor. I explain to everyone that my friend’s sister is getting married. My friend’s mother is the classmate of my professor.

So, we two walk towards the parking lot where hop on to Prof’s car and ride into the city. I have a couple of huge barrels of hope in my chest. First thing I notice is that he has the local FM station on. Now that is what you call hot! I have not seen anyone, and I mean anyone, doing what I consider a must for car travel.

I start a conversation on that. I learn that he loves listening to music through radio. I explain that I’m a radiophile myself. We talk about satellite radio and I learn that he is interested in buying a receiver himself. Doubly hot!

We talk about a lot of things. I carefully highlight his plus points. He is happy. I’m happy that he’s happy. I learn that he is very diplomatic. Very intelligent. Very hot.

Then the conversation stumbles on to my family. I explain that my father is a musician (classical eastern) and an semi-pro astrologer. He is very interested in Astrology; for his daughter’s wedding or so. He asks me if he can consult my father. I say YES! YES! YES! OF COURSE! YES! Okay, that was a bit exaggerative. I actually said ‘Yes, it is fine.’

When we reach the place, I’m awfully impressed with him and I have new hopes of him visiting my place. But there is a big problem. How can I hang out with him without feeling out of place.

We enter the hall and someone greets my professor. I don’t actually see his face but hear an authoritative, commanding, charming voice which turns to me and says

’Do you attend all marriages in the city?’

It was Dr. S! I couldn’t believe my luck when I realized that my professor was a batchmate of Dr. S. Prof was confused as to how we, me and Dr. S., were so familiar with each other. We explained it out. Then we involved in a conversation in which Prof held high opinion about my work ethic and general personality. I and Dr. S. kept pulling each others legs and I must confess that I felt that Prof was a little shaken at the way our conversation was progressing.

Later, I explained to my Prof how I and Dr. S. have gotten this ‘close’. I don’t leave the fact that Dr. S. always insults me in a myriad of ways.

In the process of waiting for the lunch feast, Professor introduces me to many other eminent members of the medical fraternity in the city. A few other hot men are there. But none were hotter than the two I was familiar with.

During this I noticed a flaw in my professor’s general setup. He kept to himself while Dr. S. was spraying charm all over. I guess my Prof was an introvert in the past and now is trying to shake up that attitude.

Just before the lunch, another bombshell was dropped. Dr. S. and his wife were planning to visit my mother after this. (I don’t know if I wrote about the fact that my mother was in a state of mild Post Traumatic Stress Disorder after her chain was snatched while she was enjoying an evening stroll). I was impressed with Dr. S. I felt proud of having a friend whose parents were so kind as to pay a visit to my mother. This is a first time experience for me. Never before did I have such a friend and parents set.

We three had a good lunch. I tried a lot of untried zones in the hitting on process on my professor utilizing my freedom with Dr. S. My professor carefully avoided comments. Something tells me that he is very intelligent.

I tried to pry further during the ride back. The closest I got to was to get my professor to agree to visit my home to consult with my father on astrology. He might have dropped in right then had Dr. S. and wife been not there. Anyway, now that it leaves a thread open, I’m happy.

What a day!

The gig - report

The day at the gig didn’t start out very well as I had the problem is setting the mix right on my monitor speakers really. I thought I wanted the basic mix loud (the drums, rhythm guitar and lead vocals) on my monitors, but I wasn’t able to get that. It might have been my fault but I could have gotten off better without accusations that I was not doing my job properly. In my defense, I thought I was doing what I had been doing at previous gigs. It just didn’t work out I guess.

As I came back from the pride march, I wasn’t sure of the reaction that I would get from my fellow band members. Well, as always S. did manage to act homophobic and mean which didn’t help. I wanted the band to wear some of the stuff that I had got from the pride march. I think it was too much of an ask really, but anyway I was disappointed to find that they didn’t think it was important to push the message across. What could be a better stage than the day of the march at a college gig when you are with rainbow hats and masks? Yeah, in a parallel universe perhaps.

I am very glad that Dr. T., and a gay friend of mine (a DJ) came as my guest invitees. The DJ though managed to make me feel weirder by giving this lecture about why we shouldn’t have signed on to a label. He apparently thinks that they label thing restricts our freedom to choose what we want to play, where we want to play and when we want to play. He also thought that we shouldn’t charge as much as we do citing the example that he himself was not getting ¼th of what we normally charge for a gig. Well, whatever.

The bands which opened for us were two ends of the spectrum. The band called ‘Wehem’ were very unprofessional in their mix and performance. Their English was heavily mock-accented and the songs that they chose to cover were a tad on the sillier side. But despite that, the crowd were on their feet cheering and dancing. Fair, you could say. But come on, you have to be demented to appreciate mediocre music.

On the other hand, Prayag, our friends from Mumbai were simply brilliant. Everything about them sounded just right. They played brilliant cover songs and executed them professionally. Their original songs were even better. While being backstage getting ourselves warmed up, I felt good listening to them play. I thought maybe we would also sound good.

When we took stage after a fire-dancing performance, I was all excited and high. But the turn-out was disappointing. We had expected about 500 plus but there were hardly 200. For some reason or the other, our singer took some time to get into stage. I did my best to get the crowd active by cheering them on. But that didn’t really work out.

We started off brilliantly with our first single (hopefully). The band seemed in place and we played well. But from then on, at least my performance, flagged. I made mistakes and was not feeling all that great. I don’t know exactly why. The most prominent reason was the mix that I was getting. But I was also kinda tired with the lack of sleep, good food and the exertion in the morning and afternoon. And hence, I really didn’t give too much of a stage act.

The only thing that did help was the rainbow hat which I chose to wear in the latter half of the show. It apparently looked good and was very well accepted by the crowd. Our singer was a little off-color for the show and he forgot to mention the hat and the reason for me wearing it. We also fumbled and chose not to play one of our best songs. We actually managed to get only half the amount of time that we were promised and hence, we were a little shaken because of that I guess.

The crowd was weird. They were dancing in a weird way to our songs. And they protested against playing our favorite songs. This was one of the points that I was arguing against in our band meetings. But I was proven wrong. I guess we’ll have to resign to the reality that no-body really cares for music and all of the audience would only want to jump up and down to a fast beat.

Post-gig, I was bluesy. Some of our friends stripped down our performance and gave wonderful critiques. I’m very thankful for them. We had to hang out at the college until they managed to arrange transportation for us. That made me feel even worse. All I wanted was to come home and spend time with Vinokur. Instead I had to hang out with friends who were having a great time joking about. No offense to them really, I was not in a mood despite having come out to them during the process.

I learnt a lot from this experience. First of all, I learnt to eat and sleep well before performances. I have learnt the lesson to make sure that I get the mix right at my monitors. I have to get my new bass guitar adjusted so as playing is easier for me. We also have to figure out a way to get the entire band interacting with the crowd. One man show simply doesn’t work.

Anyway, the grim reality haunts me. 3 months into the contract, the record label has not paid us. They seem to be lackadaisical in everything that they seem to be doing. Besides, I’m not really having a great time with the band these days. I’m not so sure about this being the primary career path anymore. I badly want it to be though.

Shame on you AMU and TOI

All of you might have heard, read, analysed, and formed opinion about the shocking news from Aligarh. Aligarh Muslim University's (AMU) Modern Indian Languages Department's Chairman Dr. Shrinivas Ramchandra Siras has been framed by a local TV news channel for having had consensual sex with an adult man (a rickshaw puller). Apart from the fact that he was framed for doing nothing illegal (as the Delhi High Court ruled last year), it's shameful that the unversity has condemned Dr. Siras and his 'actions' and has played along with the sting operation. They have asked Dr. Siras to vacate the campus and have given him a week to do so. Dr. Siras has apparently offered to resign considering that he was close to retirement anyway.

There are so many questions that need to be answered. There are so many things which have been dealt with in the wrong manner. I believe that Dr. Siras shouldn't have offered to resign - instead, he should have filed an FIR for invasion of privacy and defamation. He chose to not do that, perhaps due to some personal reasons that we aren't aware of. I believe it is the responsibility of the rest of the educated society to help Dr. Siras regain his pride.

I happened to know about this scandal a little late - actually, I wasn't even aware until my colleague and gay rights activist SM asked me whether I had seen the article on the frontpage of TOI. I was shocked when I read the news and was even more shocked to see the sensationalistic biased coverage given to the story by TOI. I have a few friends who are working with TOI, and I am perfectly aware that they can't control what comes on the frontpage of a newspaper that seems to have chosen to be joker in the media circus.

Two days later hence however, I am happy to see the story on Hindustan Times about the strong support given to Dr. Siras by the academicia, one of whom is a dear friend of mine. Another story by Indian Express, which seems to uphold the values associated with unbiased news reporting, not only states the facts clearly but voices the opinion of a few sensible gay activists including those of a TOI/ET writer Vikram Doctor.

Please read these articles and help us to protest against the unethical and unjust treatment given to Dr. Siras.

Monday no-blues

Today morning, I went and submitted an application to continue the training for another month or so. Just that made me feel so back to normal. Then I went to the hospital to inform my mates about this. I felt so good seeing them.

Then, I dropped Dr. R. to the railway station. I had actually offered him a lift saying that I had to go to town when I really wasn't planning to. Even though I had a nice talk to him during the ride, I don't understand why I lied to him.

I guess I really want to talk to him and make him understand what my stand is. Why is it that he is so attractive? And why is he still not sexually appealing to me? Here are some startling facts.

The points in favor of a sexual possibility in our relationship

I love men over 40 years. Dr. R. is 45.
I like men with attitude, charm and sense of humor. Dr. R. has this all.
I like men who understand who I'm. Dr. R. does exactly that.
I love men who dress well and carry themselves around impressively. Dr. R. is such a great example for that.
We both hold similar views on many issues.

And yet, I haven't even thought of undressing him in my eyes just one time. I don't masturbate thinking about him. I can swear.

Am I lying to myself?

Then I went and watched a stupid movie called 'Collateral'. I was sleepy and spent time fiddling with my mobile phone address book re-categorizing my friends list. Guess who are on my speed dials. Chuck, Ray, My sister, My parents and Dr. R.!

Dr. T's father's ailment

Dr. T. is on leave for a few days from the hospital. She's tending to her father who's ill and is admitted in a private hospital for Prostatectomy. He's a diabetic and a Renal transplant patient who also went into acute renal failure. The stress related to all this is really cracking her up. She talks in a strange way. I get to talk to her once or twice and week and try to listen to all that she has to say. I want to meet her but then apparently she doesn't have time for that. I hope that her Dad becomes a'ight.

Dr. Burns, I’m Hooked Now

Everyone should know Aqua and their song Doctor Jones.

Or should they?

Dr. Burns, specifically Dr. David Burns, the author of the popular book Feeling Good: The New Mood Therapy would disagree citing multiple reasons.

Things like all-or-none thinking (Everyone should know…)and should statements (should know…) are some of the cognitive distortions that Dr. Burns lists in the book.

I’m making my way slowly through the book and I have to say I’m finding it helpful—helpful to understand what I’m going through with my depression and how severe, and deep-rooted it is.

I scored 74/100 in the Dr. Burns’ checklist. That’s the cusp between Severe (51-75) and Extreme (76-100) (read more here).

I was convinced that my partner J is also suffering from moderate to severe symptoms, but he came in at mild depression scoring 12/100.

I was/am shocked. Happy for him, but shocked that I’m so much further down than I thought I was.

So here’s my little ditty:

Dr. Burns, Dr. Burns
Calling Dr. Burns
Dr. Burns, Dr. Burns
I’m hooked now

Why don’t I invite you to try the book out yourself?

The full list of cognitive distortions is below; read more about it here:

All-or-None Thinking
Over-generalization
Mental filter
Discounting the positive
Jumping to conclusions
1. Mind-reading
2. Fortune-telling
Magnification
Emotional reasoning
“Should” statements
Labeling
Personalization and blame

3 interviews, 2 new blogs

Big! Finally I think I can define it.Because, today I was in the hotseat. And I stumbled on to two other queer Indian blogs.

What hotseat? Well, I was the hot property of the media. I got interviewed by three different reporters from DNA, India Today and a local Marathi TV Channel. Why? Today? What did I do? Well, it so happened that I was the only candidate who had received the eviction/rustication letter from amongst those who were in the hospital campus when these reporters came.

Honestly, I was so stiff. I mean, I wasn't relaxed. The proof will come tomorrow/this week when the articles get published. But still, I got into mags/newspapers baby!

There were reasons for me to be stiff in the sinful sense as well. While eating my breakfast comprising of an Idli Sambar, 2 Bun Maskas and tea, I eyed a hot medical representative all around. He is the moustached-smoker phenotype. I don't know if anyone else would understand the lingo. Fair, good features, great smile and an okay body. Such people seem to have great posture by default. Later on, I shagged thinking about this guy... having sex... with a woman! I don't know why and I can't explain it. But I'm aroused by men, who I think are hot, having sex with women.

Later on, I had a good time being the computer guy representing the striking doctors. Those guys who hang out with me daily (for all the newspaper replies, press releases etc) are fun. All seem to be educated and enthusiastic. They have good grasp of computers and English and computers and have a good sense of humor. Especially, those guys from Psychiatry. Dr. T, my unofficial shrink, was amongst them.

For the second consecutive day I had 'Mallu' food for a meal I term as 'lu-nner'- beef fry and chappathi at this small restuarant nearby. Feels so nice!

Then in the night, despite the fact that my official blog crashed partially, I was able to find two very interesting blogs from India. Ridgeet's Blog is so well written. The other one is of a queer medico - Freudian Invert. The coolest thing about the latter is that, apparently I was an inspiration for the creation of it... just like how Search for Love in Manhattan had inspired me about 2 years back!

The day of union

The expectation was so high. I thought I was acting supercool. The day was crazy and started off with Mr. Flintstone installed a new A/C in the living room. I also learned from Mr. and Mrs. Flitstone that the little party that I had with Sahaab and R. the night before had elicited comments and raised eyebrows of the neighbors. For their defence, we had the windows open and we were laughing and joking around too loud. Then there were a string of people like electricians, carpenters who did all the minor glitches at home. I wanted the home to be as good as it could get for Vinokur. By 7 pm, despite me not getting even a single call from him from the flight (He had promised to ring me up twice from the aeroplane because of the state of health that he was in), I was still within my elements. The 'extras' had just left. With sawdust on the floor and the house smelling putrid, I decided to clean it up myself with the help of S. who I ran into in the locality. I was buying some fresh fruits for Vinokur.

With commendable efforts from both of us, we finished cleaning by 8.30 pm. The flight was supposed to land at 9.40. I was supposed to be at the airport much earlier. I started from home at 9.00 pm sharp. I was wearing one of the T-shirts that Vinokur bought me which said 'I love DR'. I was wearing the perfume that he had gifted me and one of the Skullies that he had sent me. This was all decided though. At 9.20 pm, stuck in the traffic jam near the Mumbai international airport, I decided to try his mobile number. He answered!

I was startled and excited and relieved at the same time. He said that the flight had touched down at around 9.00 pm and he was running about with the paperwork. I was ashamed to be late and I said that I would reach him in 10 minutes which I did. I sent S. and Ray messages announcing his arrival. As I got out the autorickshaw at the airport, I wasn't believing that this was happening. 8 months of love. The first time in my life. The biggest fucking moment in my life. I'm going to see him for the first time.

I didn't pick him. He picked me. It was all so sudden. I heard a muffled 'Kris' and then I saw this figure, which I adored, running down the ramp and hugging me. He smelled wonderful. He was wearing a check shirt, jeans, slip-on brown shoes and spectacles. I don't remember what I said. Something foolish like 'Wow, I didn't expect you to be early!' I was still in control. Not too excited. I really couldn't believe that it was happening. I followed him up the ramp to his luggage. He said that he was tired and he made sure that I had the blue pills that he needed. I noticed that he sounded different. So different from phone and Skype that I thought reality is different after all. He confessed that it was a problem with humidity. Seemed reasonable. This guy has come from subfreezing to near tropical weather!

He didn't look as short as he thought he would when he was with me. We agreed that as I tugged the trolley down another ramp to the Cab rental place. We had rented an A/C cab after I thought that he should be treated to some luxury. I had an argument with the cabbie and I could see that Vinokur was fascinated by the actual exchange in a language that was alien to him. We got in the car and as it moved along the streets of Mumbai, I started explaining what they were and stuff. He was holding to the handle on the sides of the car with his left hand.

I decided enough was enough. I grabbed at his right hand. Not sweaty. Ran my fingers up his hairy forearm. I commented on his much adored hand. I guess everyone who reads this blog must have come across my fetishes which include hands and forearms. We talked a little further and we were at home.

As I explained the locality to him, we got out the car and I paid the driver. I was getting his luggage out of the car and I remember him leaning against the wall, beaming at me. So devilishly handsome and sexy! I opened the doors to the apartment explaining the double locking locks and shit. I hauled in the luggage. Some trivial conversation had happened I guess. I was showing him the apartment around I guess. But I didn't see it coming. He grabbed me from behind, turned me around and gave me what seemed like a 1 minute open mouth kiss. It was in the living room and I said we have the whole night ahead of us.

After a while, we started talking about achieving the impossible and the regular crap. I noticed that he was a lot less talkative and the spark that was embedded in his style of speaking was missing. I guess it was tiredness. Time zone shift, language shift, social shift etc. He said he was tired. I asked him if he needed anything to eat. He said he was good. We unpacked and he gave me a couple of bottles of perfume as gift. After a while, we decided that it was time for him to get rest.

We undressed and got into bed. I was learning my way around him and he vice versa. It actually didn't take us long before we actually had a couple of orgasms. It felt like I was in caring hands for the first time ever. We were meant for each other alright! After a couple of hours of fun and frolic in the bed, my first time of sleeping nude ever, he demanded a couple of blue pills. I gave him those and he was asleep. Peacefully at first, but was restless most of his sleep. I was eating and sorting out the mess that we had created.

I couldn't believe it. It had happened. I called his sister and told him that he was fine. We had managed to get him into 'my arms', which should cure his illnesses.

So much to say

There is a lot of that I feel like saying. I don't know if I will be able to say them all. But I feel like I should give it a shot.

Over the last several months (during the COVID-19 lockdown), life has changed for me. Some for the better, some for the worse. I'll start with the better before moving on to the worse.

I have learned so much more in music production. Finished a course and I'm just starting my last in the series. Wrote some songs, produced several others.

I upgraded my home studio setup. I got myself a powerful laptop, monitors speakers, a good electric guitar, and a cheap MIDI controller (that's not working too well).

My home studio setup

My new guitar

I have at least two active projects, both of which might end up releasing songs to the world soon. I have been working on songs for close to two decades, but haven't ever released something substantial in a trusted platform. I had a couple shots at it -- one solo and another with a band -- but both didn't quite materialize the way it did.

Now, with about 50+ full songs in the bag, about 300 more rudiments that could be fleshed out into full songs, and the ones that I could write moving forward, I think I could start the process of releasing them consistently over the next several years.

One of the projects is with a band, the members of which are part of another band that I love dearly. Over the last several months, we have been working on these songs remotely and some of these are starting to come to life.

The journey forward is challenging for me because I think I will be exposing myself to social situations where I'll need to spend a lot of time working on this music as a producer and engineer for this band, which I think is not my strength. Plus, I'm decidedly an introvert at the core, and spending long periods with people (even if they are my friends) will be extremely taxing.

So overall, this seems ambitious but I think it is doable. All I need to make sure is that I should not burn myself out, which I have a tendency of doing.

I have watched a lot of quality content, both movies and TV series. These are the things that generally inspire me to be creative, and I have conceded to the fact that they are not merely entertainment for me. These things make me think in ways that other forms of communication and media don't.

Among these, I must mention my dive back into the wondrous world of Stargate SG-1 and Atlantis, and the charm of good-quality Malayalam cinema. I still remember the time that I started watching Stargate with my friends and work back in 2014 or something, and they ended up finishing the series (the whole pantheon) in a year or so, where I languished in SG-1 for several years until I picked things up earlier this year.

I have rediscovered my love for gaming. I have started off with explore Xbox Game Pass on my Windows PC, but I think I am headed the way of purchasing an Xbox console when I can.

But I haven't been able to read too much. That's something I want to fix. I'm still stuck in Judas Unchained by Peter Hamilton. I have managed to read a few hundred pages in the last few weeks.

Amazingly, I started this book on New Year's day in 2018. I haven't read much other than a few non-fiction books and comics then. I want to finish this off before I start something new, something that will inspire me.

At work, I have gone from the manager of a team to someone who is primarily involved in creating, ideating, and troubleshooting. I'm currently in the last phase of creating an online training course for copyeditor trainees who join my company. This involved a lot of creative processes (with a lot of opportunity for seeding, farming, and harvesting self-doubt, which has more or less brought be back to a phase of full-fledged depression and anxiety.

To add to the mix is the work pressure and stress. I love working but I seem to have a problem with taking care of myself. This sort of thing has been happening at work for over 3 years now, and I have contemplated quitting or seeking other opportunities (less stressful). With my music revenues drying up during COVID-19 lockdown, with very little hope of things getting back to how things were before, I need to have this job to sustain myself and to work on my music.

Working from home might be easy in the sense that I don't have to travel or meet people. But it is difficult to plug yourself off the grid. Plus, after a 10 to 11 hour day of tiring work, I have to spend time to do the household chores. Then there is the music work. This leaves me with not enough time of rest, relaxation, sleep. I am trying my best to achieve that balance by trying to take short breaks to do some chores in between my work tasks.

The one aspect of work that is challenging but sufficiently rewarding to balance the negative effects of stress is the talks that I give to students from various universities about the academic publishing industry and related topics. These tend to be the highlights of my otherwise productive, but stressful and self-doubting, weeks.

I have had a relatively steady state of therapy sessions over lockdown, and I have decided to step up the fortnightly frequency before to a weekly one, considering that I almost fell apart in the last few weeks.

During the lockdown, I spent a LOT of time holed up in my apartment with my partner J. Before lockdown, I never thought I could comfortably spend more than two days with anyone, especially J. We had a stretch of about 4 months together. We were with each other night and day without any breaks!

We were both surprised to find out that we could hold out for this long. Of course, we had fights and arguments, but we also had wonderful shared moments, with lots of wonderful food and shared TV/movie experiences. We regularly had our evening tea on the balcony, with the backdrop of mountains and clouds (on good days) and the cacophony of avian noises at dusk.

For this duration, however, I lost my sense of personal space more and more, and that also has contributed to my triggering of stress, anxiety, and depression. My apartment is tiny by world standards and average by Mumbai standards, and I need the space for my music and to feel free that I can do things I want to do when I want to do. When I am with people, I give away all my space to them. They become the primary beings of the shared space. This is probably why I could never be with people for over a few days.

During the lockdown, I gave up my bedroom and desk to J for most of the day, which limited my access to my recording setup. He might do the cooking, but the cleaning responsibilities were harder and took longer. There was less quiet overall, and J was more or less in charge of the auditory environment.

When I'm alone, I usually have a variety of states where I'll play loud music or have absolute quiet, and I listen to podcasts and talk radio when I am not concentrating on text-based work. This world is shattered when another person shares the space with me. I don't feel like I should destroy their peace by auditorily invading the shared space, which is something that I don't usually get reciprocated for. This builds the tension and anxiety of losing control of the space. I don't know how to get out of this or have the feeling of a truly shared space.

I have finally started finding YouTube useful, especially to learn more about technology, music production, and my niche interests. I often dive into the YouTube maze and come out with learnings and best practices. This also happens with podcasts. In fact, the fact that I'm writing this post is because of the simple strategy that a songwriter espoused on a podcast.

They recommended starting the day and working on something creative. Maybe listening to music or writing. Writing songs or prose.

Because of the work-from-home situation, and because I want to try and finish my work as soon as possible, I end up starting work as soon as possible, which leaves with less creative energy at the end of the day. Today, I wrote some lyrics for a song that I'm working on, recorded a scratch version of it (both for the course), and I felt like writing this blog post.

Some of the lessons that I learned from the things that I read or seek out is how to do music production better. But the problem with knowing more is to find it difficult to get more done with less time. You tend to get lost in what you think you should do instead of what you should do. I used to wrap up demos in hours. Now, that has gone to days, if not weeks. That's not good and I need to figure out a way to make things manageable in terms of time. The latest course that I'm doing has an exercise that mandates that you set timelines for finishing a project. I will try to implement that moving forward.

My therapist tells me that I should try and stare out at nothing (or something pleasant) for short periods during the day. During our sessions, I found out that this activity made me feel like a heavy weight has been lifted off my body. My eyes started feeling relaxed and I felt like drifting off to sleep. This morning, I did that by staring at the mountains for a bit. I need to make it a point to do this more often than I have been doing.

I have been finding it difficult to fall asleep at night, especially when I am with J. I don't know why it is that. I tend to feel sleepy if I'm reading something or watching something, but the act of needing to switch off the TV or put away the book and switch of lights wakes me up.

One of the reasons could be the anxiety/stress overall, but I think the frustration of not feeling like I have done anything meaningful in the day is a constant contributor. Thanks to my wonderful upbringing, I have a tendency to feel I'm not good enough for anything or that I haven't done enough to merit existing.

This is both for things at work as well as my music. I know that I'm doing good work, but I always feel like I am not doing enough or that I could have done way better. At work, there is hardly a system where such anxieties are considered and taken care of. Many have left the company because of the unaddressed issues, with more leaving soon. I feel for them, as much as I should be feeling for myself. But as I said above, I need this job at this time.

Over the last year or so, I have more or less pulled out of most social media. The only thing I check occasionally is Twitter. I have also stopped sharing photos. In fact, the joy of photography has somehow been sucked up from inside me. I guess I should treat this as a phase too. Or maybe it is because I don't get to get out of my house anymore.

I am planning to switch of 8-year-old Nexus 5 to something more modern. Something with a decent camera and photography software. I'm not sure if I should go for Pixel 4A or something more expensive and flagship (like the OnePlus 8T or some version of the iPhone).

During the lockdown, I have rediscovered my interest in writing (physical, literal writing) with fountain pens. I have refurbished the ones that I have and I have purchased a couple of good ones. Now, I can even write lyrics paper with real pens!

My not-so-great handwriting with a fountain pen.

My not-so-good handwriting

One of the unsettling aspects of lockdown has been finding out that I relate and empathize with the heinous characters in some movies. These characters show psychopathic characteristics. They are murderers, cannibals, and sadists. I don't think that I have any of these characteristics, but I have the sociopathy. What they say about human beings, their sufferings, and how things should end resonates with me.
I'm talking about Dr. Hannibal Lecter (played by Sir Anthony Hopkins) and Jame Gumb (Buffalo Bill, played by Ted Levine) from Silence of the Lambs, Tavis Bickle (played by Robert DeNiro) from Taxi Driver, and the young woman (played by Jesse Buckley) in i'm thinking of ending things.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter

Robert Bickle

The girl in i feel like ending things

I haven't talked much about Blumenthal. She is as pretty as ever. As I write this, she has gotten under the covers after having had her mail meal for the day.

Blumenthal in all her glory

So that's where I will end this for the moment. This was fun. This was refreshing. Maybe I'll follow my own advice and do this more often.

I wrote about photography earlier. Since drafting the post, I added some photos to it. These are the ones that I feel I should share or I should have shared.

Great day at the apartment

I finished my work early today mainly because there was no senior round in the morning. That meant that I could work in peace.

I also met Dr. T (my shrink + friend) in the morning while she was checking up two of my crazy patients. We had so much to tell each other as we hadn't met in the last 10 days or so. I had to tell her in short about my depressive phase. She had to tell me about her crush and the latest encounter with the hot man. Nothing good happened in the meeting. Whatever 'crushings' she had on him disappeared due to his cold behavior.

She also told me about the rampant rumors about a relationship between us. I couldn't believe it! That is in the good way. Not for her though. Such rumors would ruin her chances. Even though I didn't even think about that fact at first, when she told me about this, I felt sorry for her.

In the afternoon, I went to Xanders and we recorded songs again. Again we sounded really good. The bass was sounding just out of this world from the small sideroom where the bass cube was kept. I feel that the apartment is just perfect because of this basic fact - the recordings sound amazing. Even through the hopeless microphone of my mp3 player.

We covered the Interstate Love Song. We recorded a new song which we are making. Yes, we wrote a song after about 3 months. This feels so good..

Old friends, new place

Before I left my home town, I had worries about continuing the wonderful relationships that I have been having with my closest friends Dr. R., Ray, Chuck, May etc. I spent a lot of time talking to them about this. Everyone tried to console me saying that we can catch up over phone.

It's been about a week and a half since I came here and I can already feel the strain in the phone conversations. Especially with Dr. R. I mean, if we sit facing each other we could have conversations for hours about practically anything. Through the phone, the conversation is so superficial.

'Hey Dr. R., how are you?,

'I'm fine and you?

'Yeah, I'm great. Enjoying the city. It is so beautiful. I wish you were here to see it.

< *PAUSE* >

I say 'Come on tell me what's up there?'

'Nothing much. The usual things.'

'Come on, talk something more. Didn't I tell you that phone convos are doomed.'

'Don't you know that I can't speak just like that. I have to see you to open out.'

SIGH!

'Okay then, I'll call you later.'

Isn't this insane?

A movie with Ray

Now, I hadn't yet told the developments with Dr. R. and then the rumors to anyone. After the class, Ray called me and asked me out for a movie. I was so relieved that I was getting him to come with me. I could detail the whole thing to him and ask him his opinion.

On our way to the movie I did the narrating bit. Ray was convinced that I didn't have any physical angle in the relationship with Dr. R. He suggested that I have two different options to sort my problem out. One is to open up to Dr. R. about my sexual nature. The other one is to ignore that becuase I would be leaving to start my residency in just over a month's time.

Then we watched a movie. It was a hindi movie called 'Page 3'. A nice movie with a lot of sarcastic bites at the party culture and society in Mumbai. It even showed a normal gay character who had a great friendship with the lead character in it; a young female journalist who sincerely wants to do her job properly.

At the interval I was happy that the movie portrayed a 'good' gay character. But after the interval, the story took an unexpected turn when this gay guy has an affair with the lover of the protagonist. She loses faith in him, her formerly best friend.

After that scene, I realized that I was doing something of that sort to Mr. Lion and his family. Even more relevant was the fact that Dr. R. might misunderstand me if he found out the news from the wrong sources. I wouldn't want that. At no cost whatever!

What's with my life. Why is it turning upside down?

Stamp of authority

When I had gone to attend Chuck's engagement, my friend A. had handed me a piece of paper which his dad would later collect from me in my home town. In the two weeks since then, I had forgotten all about it.

Before we go further, let me introduce A.'s father - I'll refer to him as Dr. S. He is a very talkative, hot-looking older man who is very confident. He is sarcastic and sometimes even mildly arrogant. But that works fine for me. I love older men who establish a stamp of authority on everyone else.

Yesterday night, when I lay slumped on the couch watching 'Will & Grace', the phone rang. As is the routine in my house (I hate answering phones. My parents take the phone up when it rings.) my Dad answered it and announced that it was for me. I took the phone up and was surprised to hear this.

"Kris, this is Dr. S. I guess A. gave you that paper. I need to have it. When do you usually get up in the morning? I guess you will be really late!"

"Well, umm... I have to go to the hospital in the morning. So I get up by 7 AM at least."

"Will you get the paper and wait for me at the main road at 7.45 AM? I pass your location between 7.45 and 7.50 AM everyday. I might have forgotten the exact way to your place and I don't have time to come down your lane and search. Can you make it?

"Of course. Yes. So tomorrow 7.45 AM. Good night."

"Yeah, good night."

Today morning I was late in getting up. I rushed through my daily routines and was about to tuck my shirt up in my pants when I heard someone honking. It didn't take too long to figure out that it was none other than Dr. S. It was only 7.44 AM on my watch. I went down with that paper.

As I got out through the front door I could see Dr. S, not even bothering to get out of the car, waiting for me with a smirk on his face.

"I knew it. Can't rely on someone who is A.'s friend."

"But it's not even 7.45 AM. I was about to start." and then I hand over the paper.

"Nevermind. How are you doing?"

"I'm okay. Been busy at the hospital."

"Still wasting your parents' hard earned-money I guess." He looked at his watch and added "I need to go to the hospital. Good bye."

"Bye." I watch him drive away.

This is the usual way he treats me. And I loooooooove it. How I wish he had asked me to serve him inside the car right in front of my place!

Who is Miss Adela Quested? The investigatory report

[Why are we talking about Miss Adela Quested? Because he/she/it started commenting on my blog a couple of days back and has indicated his/her/it's desire for me, Kris Bass, in multifarious, nefarious ways. Here goes.]

Let's start from the name. Vinokur gave me the first hint that he remembered it as a character from the book 'A Passage to India'. Miss Adele Quested is the British Woman in the book who guided on a visit to the Marabar caves by the bearded Dr. Aziz, an idealistic, youngish Indian man who has befriended some English people. In there, gets confused and disoriented and apparently runs out accusing Dr. Aziz of assaulting her in the cave. Here's a still from the movie of the same title.

I don't know if this is a metaphor or analogy. I can see the smimilarities between me and Dr. Aziz. I'm bearded and I too am a Doctor. I'm youngish (28) and idealistic (maybe) and I have befriend English folk (not exactly, Vinokur is a darned American. But still he speaks English.) Since no one is sure about the sex of the character here, I'm going to refer to it as 'it'. Does 'it' adopt the aforementioned nick to drive in the point about lusting towards a bearded doctor? Perhaps. Let's carry on.

The first intended metaphor is drawn between Kris Bass and Jason Patric in 1987 horror/comedy The Lost Boys (IMDB). Jason acts the role of Michael, the elder of the two brothers who becomes a vampire after drinking blood mistaking it for wine. I'm not sure if I actually look as cute as him or that I am a vampire.

Then comes 'I haven't seen this much cuteness and naivete as the War of 1912.' This is by far the toughest of all the references. Here is the link to the Time magazine article. I guess we will need it itself to explain this analogy.

Throwing out Pet Shop Boys CDs comes up next. Well, I can sort of relate to that as I am so cute and sexy that Pet Shop boys are of no match to me. That's a wonderful compliment as even I love Pet Shop Boys.

It goes on to claim that it's the Darkman (Wiki) (from the 1990 film titled 'Darkman' - IMDB). The character is a scientist who after being attacked, turns into half-crazed, masked vigilante, known as Darkman who decides to get revenge on the criminals. This is interesting as I'm sure he is talking about taking on FlyGye as is evident from the interaction between the two.

Then it goes on to compare ourselves to the characters from the movie 'Weekend at the Barnies' (IMDB). It is compared to Andrew McCarthy who plays the character of a young employee in an insurance company whose Boss Bernie Lomax (to which I'm compared to - Shocking!) is involved in fraud of stealing money. In the final parts of the movie Andrew McCarthy uses the dead Bernie Lomax's body so as thugs can't kill him. Now, this is scary. I feel that the Darkman is after me!

Immediately though, it corrects itself by saying that it is more comparable to Ducky, an exchange student, with Chinky looks, in the movie 'Sixteen Candles' (IMDB) who in a alternate ends, wins the cute girl protagonist Molly Ringwald in the movie. Here I'm confused whether it is referring to its looks or the characters. Does it mean that it will win me over from Vinokur at the end of it all, perhaps in an alternate world? The plot thickens. Here is a clip from the movie where you can see how dorky Ducky, acted by Geddie Watanabe is.

Just to give the bait, it addst the twist of Malluhood, Kerala, incest in the reference of Arundhati Roy's 'The God of Small Things'. Although this led to me admitting the fact that I haven't read the book, I was able to get a review of the book which will give you an idea as to what it means. And it did hit me at one of my weakest points: incest!

To add the bollywood twist to the story, it compares me to the apparently blind Rakhee in this video. A point to note here is that it has taken care to confuse us with immediately giving us the alter-idea of it being tall, dark and handsome like Amitabh Bacchan after the dorky impression of Ducky. It has also acknowledged that I can sing and the fact that it likes my singing.

Then comes this analogy where it compares itself to Rachel Ward in the movie 'Thorn Birds' (IMDB). In this movie, Rachel Ward's character lusts for the priest in the family. After early setbacks, they reunite with tragic consequence for both. Scary as well.

Shift to even gorier analogies - to Linda Blair in the movie 'Exorcist' (IMDB). It claims that it feels like the character Regan MacNeil who has unnatural powers. The famous lines 'It burns. It burns.' are quoted and it compares burning to the feeling that my beard does to it. This really sounded interesting. Well, until I saw a picture of the Linda from the movie. Here it is. :O

Time for another Bollywood twist. Here, it compares itself to Rekha in the movie 'Silsila' (IMDB) who has to separate from Amitabh Bacchan who has to marry another woman because of commitments. But finally, Rekha unites with Amitabh. It got really confusing here. First of all, I was Amitabh here. Elsewhere, it was Amitabh. Secondly, it compared Vinokur to Jaya Bhaduri (then, now Jaya Bacchan). Now Vinokur is bald, has a beard and has balls and stuff. How could this analogy work?

Then we get to see the inner-happening of it's mind when he confronts Fly by comparing alleging that Fly likes movies like 'Birdcage' (1996, gay comedy, 6.5/10 at IMDB) and 'Juno' (2007, comedy, 8/10 at IMDB). A scathing attack, one would presume. The reader is led to believe that this person could very well be a self-possessed witch or something like that.

This is when I intervened. I was overawed by all these references, almost all of which I had no clue about. I requested it to give me some time to understand all the analogies.

It responded by analogies ranging from apartheid politics (Winnie Mandela using a machete to cut a message in the dirt about it's infatuation) to pop culture (Lil Wayne's song 'Lollipop' (video) with direct usage of it's lyrics). We understand its frustration in its apparent resignation at wooing me by comparing its efforts to the likes of Cyndi Lauper and her works (Girls Just Want to Have Fun - video).

We also were able to see the glimpse of it's mind where it longed for love and care. It can't stand unrequited love. When I asked for permission for a detailed post about it, it's used metaphors and allegory, it responded rather despondently that it's efforts were not a publicity stunt but true love. Still, it gave its evil intent out by comparing myself to Rosemary Woodhouse from the horror novel 'Rosemary's Baby' (1967) by Ira Levin. We are led to believe that it curses my fate to be similar to Rosemary's whose husband signed a contract with the Devil to be able to impregnate her with Devil sperm in exchange of a successful career. But it urged me to go on and do what I wanted.

Despite all these analogies, we are confused. What does it look like? Is it a he or a she? Confusing. I put my data through the supercomputers at the 'Indian Society of Character Identification'. The results that came were astounding. It could be either this, this, or one of these.

But it's still cloudy, isn't it? It called for more detailed analysis of the clues that it left. And yes, I did find incriminating evidence of at least its sex. It is actually a male as evidenced by this line 'Listen you may have to move that score to the male side ;)'. To confirm it I searched methodically for all my frequented blogs for further evidence.

And finally, I found this comment on Pepe's blog. 'As you requested - blog address - from Quested as requested.' This was the blog that I was linked to from Vikster's blog yesterday. It was hilarious. And I had left a comment on it. I smelt victory. I went to the blog to check out the blogger's profile. But there wasn't one. The name was 'Joy Division'.

I went and checked for replies to my comments. Yes, there was one. From someone called 'ben' who sounded so much like Miss Quested - 'anything for you kris bass, I'm a sucker for laughs. Consider it an early Christmas -- check back tomorrow and there will be more funny.' It's a shame that Ben's profile is not public.

The closest that we can come to identifying this person is this. He's a male. He's called Ben. And maybe, just maybe, he looks like this. Even this is fine. I hope not this.

What do I feel about this 'dude' after all this research? I feel curious. I feel like knowing him more.

Going back to Mumbai

Today I'm returning to my life in Mumbai. As I had expected, this trip wasn't the best that I ever had as a holiday from my life in Mumbai. The funny thing is that I didn't do many things that I normally do.

Spend time with my friends - I didn't do a lot of that. Just two days out of 10 with Ray and Chuck.
Meet Dr. R. Yes, I didn't do it.
Meet Mr. Lion - we couldn't pull off a meeting this time. I badly wanted to. But I'm not sure if he's that interested in me.
Talk to my sister - despite the fact that she's having trouble in her life. I don't want to detail them. Acutally, I don't know how enough really.

Yet, I'm not unhappy. I'm sort of glad to return to my band and my guitars and my hospital life.

Queerly queer research

Due to some obscure reason, I’ve been getting a lot more blog-traffic than previously. The traffic on my blog has leapfrogged from a nonexistent 0.17 readers per week to a giant 15.32 readers per week in the last month. And for mostly inexplicable reasons I have been getting tagged and receiving awards from the weirdest of sources. Sometimes I feel this is all not true and during one such instance, in the past week, I did a google search on ‘Engayging Life’.

In the results, I found a few links to a few fellow bloggers who have blogrolled me and a couple of the blogging sites that gave me awards and stuff. But the most staggering result of them all was this entry. Right at the middle of this screenshot titled ‘Queer Blogging in Indian Digital Diasporas’. If you notice further, that this link leads to a scientific research publication by a couple of researchers - Queer Blogging in Indian Digital Diasporas: A Dialogic Encounter by Mitra and Gajjala Journal of Communication Inquiry.2008; 0: 0196859908321003v1. Crazy stuff!

Since curiosity has imposed itself on me several times causing upswings in my feline mortality, and because I couldn’t access the publication as it was not available for free download, I decided to write to these authors asking if I could get a copy of it. I was surprised to see a prompt reply by one of them expressing their happiness to provide me with the publication.

It was a internet research paper about how the internet has influenced the Indian gay community. I went through it and found this rather ‘cute’ entry about my blog right up at the first part of the publication. Apparently the Talking Closets blog mentioned my blog in this entry back in 2005. This is what is said in that entry.

This one is actually going to be about gay blogging, and not just me spewing out crap about my erratic and erotic escapades (though some would say, that's what I do best.). Indian gay blogging, to be precise. I've always wanted to find out some guys in India who blog about their homosexuality, whether openly or from within a closet, and I found a couple of them, the other day.

My favourite is Kris', to which I've added a link on the right hand side. Kris is a gay doctor somewhere in Bombay, who saves lives by day and dreams of men by night. Wow - a hot Baywatch hunk gone gay? hehehe.. I wish! (which doesn't mean that he's not, of course.....!) The reason I like Kris' posts? They're amazingly easy: they're about a life, and the fact that he's gay is not the be-all and end-all. There's no sermonizing about gay people - and that's great. In the last few days, I've come across a couple of gay blogs which are full of activism - and it simply leaves me cold.

Isn’t this crazy? And you don’t even know where your rants can reach – even to universities in the US who apparently study our blogs! It turns out that the person who writes this blog is Mr. Rahul Mitra, a co-writer of this article. He also maintains this other blog Living High.

I did a little search on his blogs about me and my blog. All I could find was this surprising invitation to one mumbai gay blogger party back in 2005. He invited me and Vikster for this party. I don't remember receiving any invites back then. And hence, I didn't respond. I guess that pissed him off as you can't find my blog on the 'right hand side' in his blogs!

Since reading this, I have exchanged a few e-mails with Dr. Gajjala and Mr. Mitra. They are very interested in knowing more about me and other gay bloggers. They have indicated that they would wish to start communicating with all who are interested. For those interested, send me an e-mail (you can find it on the blog somewhere).

(PS: If you thought that this post was very self-indulgent and narcissistic, I am sure it is. But it was fun!)

Munich is fantabulastic

Today, I stealed time again and watched Munich at Sterling! Such an awesome movie it is. Lot of violence in it but it is taken very well by the master Spielberg. The soundtrack is awesome and the humor interspersed makes it a very good experience.

Go watch it everyone!

As I was waiting for the movie to start, I talked to Ray. He wanted me to try cruising here in Mumbai. I said it was difficult mainly because of the youngish college-going crowd at the movies. I had to eat my words when I found myself sitting beside a semi-hot man with a goate. Around 60 ish. I tried to make advances just like how Ray had taught me. But it wasn't succesful.

Today, I also exchanged a lot of SMSes with my friend/shrink at the hospital. Dr. T, as I would like to refer to her here, had a lot of confusion regarding my relations with Xander. I solved it out. I told her how crazy my life was now. And she couldn't believe what I had been doing. I have to confess that I'm so comfy being with her that I think she's becoming one of my good friends. Maybe, I'll even go with her to movies. Just like, how I go with Ray back at home.

Engayging Life

Saturday at Cochin

Saturday at Cochin

Chuck almost rescued me before Ray did

Professor + Dr. S.!

The gig - report

Shame on you AMU and TOI

Monday no-blues

Dr. T's father's ailment

Dr. Burns, I’m Hooked Now

3 interviews, 2 new blogs

The day of union

So much to say

Great day at the apartment

Old friends, new place

A movie with Ray

Stamp of authority

Who is Miss Adela Quested? The investigatory report

Going back to Mumbai

Queerly queer research

Munich is fantabulastic

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