I’m over it, I tell you!

My LCD monitor crapped on me yesterday. Today, I took it to service. They told me it could take days. In the afternoon, they call me back and say that there was a power issue and they had fixed it. The downside, I am 2K down. Yet, in the middle of all this, I go ahead an buy this beauty – the Tech 21 Sansamp VT Bass Deluxe!

Finally, I have some balls. For the past two years, I have been chickening out on investing on something. Now, I have turned it around. :) I have my monitor back and have the bass processor pedal in the market!

Shor Bazaar, Cirkles, Overhung, Bad Influence, and Ideat Savant – you guys are in for a treat!

Slutwalk for men?

First of all, let me make this clear. I am totally pro-Slutwalk. I totally agree with the concept that what women wear or not should not be a reason for men or women to feel like pouncing on them and sexually harassing them.

However, the only thing that I don’t understand is this: Why should Slutwalk be restricted to just women? Why can’t men also protest for the same reasons? Why can’t we also wear what we want the way we want and not be sexually provocative to women and men?

I think a sex-based Slutwalk is totally sexist. Who cares to share their opinion?

Horror at work

I am glad to admit that I work in one of the best office environments. The people are work place are just lovely and we have lots of freedom and flexibility. It’s quite a pleasure to be working there. But the pleasure ends when the clock strikes 9 pm in the night.

If for some reason, you end up staying at the office, doing some extra work after 9 pm, everyone plots to ensure that you have the most horrible experience. Mind you, I work in a company that deals in language editing and translation. So, peace and quietness are prerequisites.

So, this is what happens at 9 pm.

• The ACs in the main bay get switched off. I think it is a silly administration policy to save electricity, making it unreasonable to all those who work late.
• Once the comforting hum of the ACs are gone, form some reason people start speaking loudly. If you are trying to concentrate on your work, you might as well give up.
• The icing in the cake is the sudden onset of loud music. From almost everywhere – speaker phones, loud annoying ring tones, and people playing their choice of music on computer speakers! The other day, my boss, a fellow rocker, had the chutzpah to play Dream Theater loud. Give me a break!

I hope someone takes some action to prevent/avoid all of this.

Nominal idiosyncrasies

Well, this term probably doesn’t exist. Hence, I’ll define it for you.

Nominal idiosyncrasy (n): The phenomenon of an idiosyncrasy getting attached to a particular name of a person so much that it is hard to think of anyone else with the same name. Because of this phenomenon, ordinary proper nouns become adjectives.

I can think of a few. If you can think of more please add them as comments.

Arindam – someone who is a jerk, sycophantic, and is an attention-mongering whiner; a person with a stupid face, glasses, and a pony tail; a person who is certified number one in legal exposure.

Arnab – someone who is a jerk, who would never let anybody else complete a sentence, who never lets anybody else’s opinion seemingly matter; self-obsessed prick.

Anthony – someone who is a politician who will send out semi-obscene messages to young women with attached pictures of himself in his underwear; someone who has just an average penis but thinks that it is bigger than that.

Bill – someone who is a politician whose wife is also a politician; someone who has oral sex with his secretary (such secretaries are called Monica irrespective of their sex); someone who is obsessed with sex.

William Shatner–I love you!

I was a bit late. But I did it. I watched all the three movies in the Star Trek (original) motion picture series. I must say that William Shatner, who broke many a woman/man’s heart with his incredible looks and acting skills during the time of the TV series and the movie trilogy, just broke mine too.

All I can think of is to get married to him. And then I look him up on Wikipedia and find that he’s married. What the fuck? Is there no justice in this world? William, at least you could have remained committed to Spock, who says to him the following with such depth:

“Kirk, I’ll always be yours!”

To get rid of all your sins, William, I advise you to fly over to India, dip yourself in Ganges three times, come to Mumbai, wash all the dirt off in a clean shower, and invite me over to your hotel room for hot sex. Only that will do!

What do you call this?

So, I met this guy from Canada. He was born and brought up in India in the early days of independent India. He spent about the first couple of decades of his life in India (in Mumbai and in a boarding school somewhere nearby). Of course, he is gay. He realized back when he as a school-going child. And of course, he is handsome. And he is white.

Gay. Handsome. White. Kid.

What does that read to an average Indian boarding school-going kid who is elder to him?

Sex.

That’s as simple as that. Apparently, he was raped many a time (not always sodomized, but he was a few times, and that’s why he doesn’t like sodomy that much anymore). He claims that it was fairly common for this activity to be happening back in the ‘50s and guesses that it might still be.

I guess, India is far from homophobic then, isn’t it? Homophilic, perhaps. And what do you call this behavior? I know it is illegal to have sex with minors. But this phenomenon is not quite pedophilia, is it?

Sorry for being judgmental

I grew up to Nokia mobile phones. The first two phones that I had were Nokia. Since then, however, not just because I moved on to a better company (read Sony Ericsson), I have seen the company and their phones going from bad to worse. Much before the iPhone/Android invasion into the mobile space, Nokia started losing the plot.

Handset-wise, even now, everything they make seems like a copy of some other brand. But the real flaw in their set up was the good-for-nothing OS that they had. Symbian or not, every other company was making progress to do something about improving the OS. Blackberry had it’s own. All the other major brands went Android. And iPhone had iOS. Nokia just got stuck in that bad place.

Now, they are going to drop their Symbian platform and go for the Windows Mobile OS. If you are a PC user, you would have started hating Windows as soon as you started using it. Why did Nokia have to go for the worst amongst them all?

This is why I have decided that, as on this date 25/06/2011, anybody buying a new Nokia phone has to be either dumb or stupid. Either of those. Or both or those. Why would you buy Nokia when you have so many better options available.

If you think that I’m the only one out here who thinks like this, please check your social networks once more. You will realize for yourself.

The Dentist Appointment

I did it! Finally, after procrastinating for more than two years, I visited a dentist in Mumbai. Thankfully, everything is fine. I don’t yet need a root canal. One of cavities, thanks to my two years of braces, has progressed into a mammoth one size of a crater on the moon looked on from Earth through a telescope, apparently. But that was filled today. Next time it will be root canal.

I feel so empowered. I am taking care of myself now.

To be gay in India

Someone started a hashtag on Twitter #ToBeGayinIndia. I don’t quite know what was the motive behind it. I bet it was something negative –something about the hardships that gay/lesbian/transgender people face being out in public in India.

Having been out for about 15 years now, in varying levels of ‘outness’, with the present level being completely out, I think that India (Kerala + Mumbai) is very gay friendly. It’s just that people don’t realize it. That’s the irony in it. People just think that India isn’t all that friendly and they choose to stay in closets of relative sizes.

I have had practically no bad experiences having been gay in India, except for perhaps finding an apartment to live with another man in an apartment (when Vinokur came down in 2008). Other than, touch wood, it’s been a wonderful 15 years of being out in India.

Look at me – I am out in all facets of my life, out on all social networks, have an active blog, and have a very promising gay social life, which unfortunately I don’t participate much in. The only bad thing is that, because of the problem that I mentioned above, I haven’t found a good partner for me from India.

This problem would be solved if people started embracing  themselves instead of blaming the society for not embracing them. As simple as that!

Cam drinking

You must have already heard of or tried cam sex. It’s a very practical way to do what you cannot do otherwise – have sex with random people all over the world. Plus, it’s masturbation version 2.0.

However, have you ever thought of drinking with someone else on live video cam? It’s very comfortable, cheap and inexpensive way to socialize. You can hit up with anyone around the world and share a few drinks with each other without the annoyances of going to a bar/party.

I have never tried it out myself. But I’m sure I will soon, one of these days. All you need a good guy at the other end who’s interested in drinking and having a conversation. The only problem that I face is that the time that I like to drink happens to morning/afternoon in the Western world. Most people wouldn’t be up for a drink then.

My only worry is that this phenomenon might make me indulge in more alcohol than what is desirable. But I think I have enough self-control to not be an alcohol addict.

I also bet that this what ever alcoholic said to him/her before he/she became one.:P

The stark resemblances

Here’s a riddle. Two things. Vastly different things. But a thousand similarities. Here are some.

• Loud, tasteless, cringe-worthy music
• Too crowded for fun
• Full of self-obsessed men
• More brawn than brain
• Lots of sweat
• Not conversation worthy
• Expensive
• Weird dance stuff happen
• Need high motivation

You think you have the answer? Well, here it is.

A gym and a gay party. I find it hard to go to either. And that’s why I’ll remain single for a long, long time.

The stolen Kinetic Honda

So, I get a call from the Sub-Inspector Kadam. Two years and 4 months after the last time I spoke with him last. He was using a different number from the one that I had stored in my phone.

“Dr. Krishna?”

“Yes, haan bol raha hoon.”

“Aapka Kinetic Honda mil gaya hai.n BMC ke godown main tha.”

“…”

“Kahaan se?”

“Parel, godown se!”

“Aap ko aake payment dena padega gaadi godown se laane ke liye.”

“Theek hain. Main aataa hoon!”

I couldn’t quite believe it. I had lost it on the day that I had joined working Crimson. Now it is back? What condition would it be in? How much money would I need out dish out to get it back on the road? Can it ever be in working condition?

Your past is never going to leave you alone, I tell you.

And, good job *COUGH* Mumbai Police!

You aren’t on Twitter yet?

I mean, are you guys serious? You don’t want to develop your teeny-weeny brains? What the fuck? You don’t care about being funny and getting to know the truth from around the world? If not for all of the above, aren’t you tired of FaceBook yet? Come on, give me a break. Get yourself together and sign up for the coolest thing on the world at this very moment. Why? Because it might not be so in a few more days. You will get to know why. Very soon. Very very soon.

All this is inspired by the wonderful tag #AapChutiyeHain.

http://twitter.com/#!/bass_man_1979/status/82654344331268096

Father's Day - not your kind

Today is Father’s day. A day in which people say all kinds of lovey-dovey things about their fathers. Unfortunately, I don’t have anything of that sort to share with you. My relationship with my father never took off. He was in another parallel universe altogether, I think.

The only lasting memory from my childhood that I have is my father picking up and throwing me out of the pooja room when the ball that I was playing with accidentally popped in there and I went there to pick it up. I landed about 4 feet out and didn’t have any serious injuries.

From that day onward, I knew that I was not going to get any ‘classic’ love from my father. Oh, well!

Date Night

Since yesterday didn’t work out, I decided that that was it. I need to break out of my social celibacy. Plus, a date - A ‘dinner/conversation date which would go on to the party and then we would see from there’ date. It was a semi-blind date – a friend of a dear friend of mine – the same guy that hadn’t got my jokes. I was apprehensive to say the least.

So, I went and met this guy and we had dinner over whiskey/vodka. The conversation was not the most brilliant and it was more one-sided than you expect a date to ideally be. Throw in some weird concepts and ideologies, it wasn’t far too entertaining or interesting.

From there, we went on to the party, where I met my dear friend, who gave me some respite. We went on to wine and beer at the party, but the conversation never took off. However, I got to know three interesting facts during the night: 1, Picasso painted realism fantastically :-O; 2, Lady Gaga played good piano; and 3, Not Just Jazz By the Bay used to a gay cruising place.

What this means is that I just have one guy on the radar. The funny guy!

Bar Night that got canceled

This afternoon, I got the sudden urge to break my social celibacy by going to a ‘bar night’ at a new venue. I coaxed my friend and colleague to come with me to check out the new venue and cruise men. He agreed. I also decided to invite a few of my straight colleagues from work. Three of them agreed too!

It was all set. It was a new place. I was excited.

Alas, in the evening, around 6.30, I came to know that the party was canceled. And they hadn’t even announced it on the FaceBook page or anything (or I hadn’t seen it). This is outrageous and disappointing. :(

To become a father

I want to be a father. I am already 31 years old and I think within the next 9 years or so, I have to figure out a way to become a father. Or else, I will be too old to be one. There are many criteria that need to be satisfied, I think, before I can think of becoming one.

A huge bank account
A steady, healthy life
A stable, live-in partner/spouse

Once I have the pre-requisites, I have two options: surrogacy or adoption. I would prefer surrogacy to adoption because there will be an element of my lineage being upheld in the long run. However, with the increasing population, it would be foolish to bring another child into this overpopulated world.

The other day, there was a debate on single parent (single male parent) adoption on television. Apparently, they are trying to bring in laws to make things more difficult for single parents to adopt. They seem crazy and most of the panelists on this debate seemed to disagree.



On a funnier note, when I introduced the idea of me desiring to become a father to my Mom, she expressed dismay in an e-mail reply, which went something like this: ‘Well, if you want to become a father, you would have to marry a girl. If you don’t do that, how can you have a child?’

Need For Humor

How much does humor have a role in your life? In my life, I would say almost 90%. I can’t live without humor. I can’t hang around people who can’t appreciate it. Those who don’t get my jokes go to the chopping block.

One of the first persons on this list was my sister. She stopped getting my jokes awhile back and our relationship has deteriorated since. Although my mother is a little dense, she still gets some of my jokes. My father, whose sense of humor is more developed than my mother’s or sister’s, still is weird. Only in actual physical conversations would I get him to appreciate my jokes.

Anyway, why am I on a rant? Because I have to go out with two people in the near future – one, who doesn’t seem to get my humor and another one who’s the jack of all kinds of humor. I’m sorry but I’m already having a bias toward the second one. The first one better be interesting, failing which he’ll have to be axed.

Discussion Confidants

I read about the new Pew Research Center’s study findings about social networking sites and their impact on our social life. Please go to the link to read the full story

The one interesting thing that I found in the study is that an average American citizen has just two close people in their lives with whom they share their intimate details. I think I have something like a dozen or so people with whom I’m very open about my problems. But not everything to all of them. Does that mean that I don’t even have a single discussion confidant in my life? Weird!

I need instructions to live my life

If I could choose one album name to define my tendency to live a comfortable life, it would have to be Zero’s ‘Procrastination’. I don’t know why I’m starting out with such a twisted sentence – I guess I just didn’t want to introduce the ‘P’ word directly. Anyhow, this morning I had the sudden urge to tell my confidante at the office that I need to do away with some of it. And I decided to give her the right to choose what I should do when. She gave me some instructions. According to that plan, here’s how it is going to go.

First, it is going to be the upgrade of my computer – a full-fledged update which would enable me to start recording . Then it is going to some much-needed additions to my wardrobe. Then it is going to be a new smartphone. Then it is going to be a new refrigerator. At last, in winter, it is going to be an AC.

Having received these instructions, I have already consulted a friend of mine about upgrading my computer. I have also passed my friend’s suggestions to my computer guy so that he could give me a quotation of the approximate price. The only bad thing is this – I had done something similar about a year back. But then, I chickened out at the last instance. I hope I bring my plans to fruition.

X-men: First Class

Considering the rain and my tendency to cancel all kinds of social plans (even when I'm the only person involved), I consider this as a remarkable feat. After 6 months or so of movie theater celibacy (wait a minute, it might be even more. I can't remember the last movie that I watched in a theater), I finally coaxed myself to watch X-men: First Class.

Well, I didn't do it all by myself. I had to get out of my apartment so that my maid could clean it - I feel very uncomfortable in my apartment when my maid is around because I can't do anything that I want. So the maid made me do it. She had initially knocked my door when I was having lunch. I asked her to come an hour later. I had an hour to make plans. So I looked up the listings of the movie and I found a 3 pm show at the nearby multiplex.

It felt really weird to spend Rs. 220 for a front-row ticket. But I didn't have an option. I was there really early, and to distract myself I got on to Twitter. A bunch of nerds were talking about Kung Fu Panda in hindi at the waiting area. It sounded really dumb and I was so irritated that I had to get up and start walking up and down.

The movie itself was just okay. I know it is Marvel. I know it is X-men. I couldn't have missed it. But still, the storyline was a little to weak for me. The acting was so-so. As usual, Magneto was the hottest. It was not Sir Ian McKellen. Instead, a chap called Michael Fassbender. Really hot, I tell you!

But the most striking note of the movie experience was this - I thought that the audience was really lame because they laughed at the most mediocre of jokes in the movie. Was my requirement of levels of humor getting too high for the average person?

Damp squib

Saturday was the moment of reckoning. I would know by the end of Saturday if I was really enjoying my life again. I had it all packed up with a brunch date and a gig with Cirkles in the evening.

Then it poured. All sorts of mammals. By the time I woke up, I had almost made up my mind to take a rain-check for the date. To make things less uncomfortable, I texted my date. I didn't get a reply for a few minutes. I was anxious and I called him. He answered my phone and said that it was okay. Phew, close shave. Shades of social phobia manifesting again. This time, there was actual rain.

Then I went back to spending my day watching South Park and sleeping. I dozed off to a wonderful siesta and was determined not to wake up until I had to take shower before starting to the venue. Then, I got a message from my band mate that the gig was canceled due to rain and one of our band mates being unwell.

I was relieved once again. Not needing to exercise your social skill for the second time in the same day felt like a blessing! But I was disappointed at not performing for the gig. I was all excited about this gig and was planning to take two bass guitars to be used for different sets. Well, whatever!

Sense of Humor

So, I have this big date coming up tomorrow. After many months, I was finally stepping out for a date. I was excited about it. Well, partially at least. Because we had made plans earlier in the week and there was a period of incommunicado between us, I decided to text my date. I had to work up some humor.

It was a brunch date. So I asked him...

"Do you expect me to report to you at 11.30 am starving?"

To which, he replied...

"Yes. What do you like to eat? Non veg/Veg?"

I was perplexed. No sense of detection of irony. I texted...

"Everything but babies and women."

I got no reply from my date.

There went most of my excitement. No humor detected. At least on irony/sarcasm. I was worried. Worried enough to call our common friend to check up on the same. Our common friend assured me that he had some sense of humor. But it might not be up my alley.

So, we'll have to see.

Naïve Mom

I explained what happened between me and him to my Mom. In an e-mail, that is - we still don't talk or chat. She told me to be positive and said that the right man would come. I replied saying that I am a little sad because I wanted to become a father soon.

She wrote to me today saying: 'If you want to become a father, you have to marry a girl!'

So innocent, so naïve.

I told her that there are other options like surrogacy and adoption. She hasn't responded back yet!

Single again

Last week, I posted about getting signals from a friend of mine that he wanted to be in a relationship with me. That turned out to be a false alarm after all. Today we talked on Skype and we have come to the conclusion that it's not going to work out because of some major issues.

But we'll remain friends!

So, I'm single again. I don't know if I should be happy or not.

A mixture of everything

It was a crazy day. Lack of proper sleep thanks to a band photo shoot sort of ruined it initially. But the workplace always brings the smile back to my face. So far, so good, I said.

Then I read the e-mail about the new dress code policy at work. There it was - 't-shirts and shirts have to be tucked in'. I reluctantly tucked my small t-shirt into my already undersized (thanks to the weight that I have put on) jeans. Portliness was showing.

I had to even go check in the mirror how fat I looked. Well 'not fat, healthy,' I said to myself, trying to calm myself. People commented on my portliness. And despite all that, I chose to slice the work day into two with an episode of bingeing on three separate biriyanis.

I had to sort of work faster so as to make it to a rehearsal in time. Yet I reached late by half an hour. Then came the surprise. At the jam pad, I met the bass player who I replaced. He was jamming with the band when I made my way in. Quickly he unplugged his gear and let me plug mine in.

I aksed him 'Hey, howz it going?' and he said 'It's not happening man. They aren't giving me the visa. I am here now.' Then it struck me. Was I eating into his bread? Would the band get him back on board? What will I do, then?

All through the jam, he was there in the jam room, probably carefully analysing what his replacement was doing. Insecurity, self-esteem issues, a feeling of inadequacy - everything was creeping in. I was uncomfortable throughout and fucked up almost every song.

And then it rained. No, it poured. Pre-monsoon showers? Who knows? Anyway, a slice of heaven on earth, but only for those not needing to travel. Once the jam was over, I felt like rushing home and being inside. Safe, comfortable, secure, albeit with a desire to improve and to overcome my insecurities.

The cheeseburger of my life

Performing at the Hard Rock Café Mumbai is a thrilling experience for me. For the first three years of my Mumbai life, I used to be a regular among the audience there. I always used to dream about performing there.

Six years into Mumbai, and three years into professional music here, I have performed several times at the venue. The excitement is not as high as it used to be. But the thrill of consummating my relationship with the Hard Rock Café special cheeseburger lives on.

Every time I'm at the Hard Rock Café, I look forward to having the juiciest burger in town. I believe it is the best in Mumbai. Ah, the perks of being a musician!