It was another Friday evening. But unlike the last time, I was out on a dinner date. A dinner date with a new friend that I had acquired from the GB mailing list. Humor was the inciting factor that led us to communicating with each other in the first place - humor as a response to an e-mail from a very funny Parsee with whom people have been trying to compete in vain to be funny.
Anyway, I didn't know what to expect. All I knew that I was going to be treated to dinner by a fun-loving Gujju man. As I was getting myself out of the office after sprinkling myself with perfume, my colleagues were all curious as to who this date was with. I told them all that it was nothing special. Just a dinner date. To someone else, I had already shared a little bit of this interesting man's history - of having two committed relationships at the same time.
When we met at the Charni Road station, I was a little surprised. Not quite what I was expecting, but not something unpleasant at all. My friend showed traits of being a half heterosexual by being rather uncaring of how he presents himself to the world. The conversation was interesting enough until we reached his favorite adda - a veg bar/restaurant.
The idea of a veg bar/restaurant was itself quite unsettling. Then came the stories about his relationships. They were so incredibly exotic - many people from GB have campaigned against the nature of these relationships - that they did leave a unsavory aftertaste. That came with the overdose of vegetarian cuisine over Kingfisher lager beer. Quite unlike what I'm used to, to say the least.
As a respite however, I watched the Bangladeshi Tigers give a gem of a performance against the English Lions on the lone television in the restaurant. All in all, a crazy dinner date.
Showing posts with label GB. Show all posts
Showing posts with label GB. Show all posts
Straight date for a gay evening
I finally broke the jinx - I went out with the most beautiful woman that I know. That too, to a gay party. She is the aunt of my gay friend. It was a fundraiser party for the Queer Azadi March week. We met at the Bandra station. I was wearing a mix and match outfit with a kurta, jeans, and flip-flops. She was dressed as beautiful as ever in a saree and with a matching stole and shoes.
On our way to find a cab, one of the straps of her left shoe gave away. It was very embarrassing for her as she had never had a shoe-malfunction in any of her previous dates. We found a cab soon and got into it. However, the cabbie ran into his family by the roadside. He wanted to give them a ride back home and said that he'll find us a cab first.
My gracious and beautiful date was so kind, she let the cabbie's family travel with us - not only that she paid him a minimum fare too! I was moved by her kindness and generosity. In the second cab, we traveled to the venue of the party - Dios at Tardeo - the same venue where I had one too many drinks a couple of months at a birthday party where Cirkles were performing. On the way, we found a mochi (cobbler) and he managed to fix my date's shoes. We bought ourselves Kolhapuris as a backup for.
It turned out to be a good decision - one of the buckles on the shoe that my date was wearing came off as we were walking to the venue after getting out of the cab. We meet our common friend Dee at the entrance - he was surprised to see us two together!
It was just about 10.15 pm by the time we entered. We went up to realize that there were hardly any people at the party. I hardly knew anyone except for the male money-mongering whore who I had seen in a few other parties. We got ourselves a couple of beers and sat at a couch with a fantastic view of the moon in front of us and talked.
Soon, people started trickling in and my date found a lot of young men who she from FaceBook – yes, Facebook. She knows dozens of young men who seek her company and advice on FaceBook. She is a fantastic lady and she offers her heart and soul to all of these young gay men who don’t have acceptance in their families. That’s how awesome my date is.
I took a look around and I found a bunch of my friends from other parties. I hung out with some of them. I tried to work my humor, but some of them were so bitchy and shallow that they took offense. That’s part and parcel of humor and sarcasm, I guess. Then, I found my dear friend Craig who was hanging out with his usual bunch of friends. We bitched about like how we always do. We love each other so much!
Then, I saw this male-whore trying to butter up a cute looking Firangi. Not only did I want to talk to this Firangi, I also wanted him to be warned about this whore trying to extract money from him. So, as he made his way to the bar, I sneaked in and bumped into this white guy and warned him about the whore. After that, I hung around him to see if he would initiate a conversation with me.
He eventually did and we spent the entire rest of the evening talking to each other. I was a little worried about leaving my date alone, but she was having a good time with her boys. Before the party ended, I exchanged numbers with the Firangi guy and we decided to meet up the next evening.
On our way back, I was a little worried if my date had felt bad. But I guess she didn’t. So, it was a good evening outing. I should do this more often.
On our way to find a cab, one of the straps of her left shoe gave away. It was very embarrassing for her as she had never had a shoe-malfunction in any of her previous dates. We found a cab soon and got into it. However, the cabbie ran into his family by the roadside. He wanted to give them a ride back home and said that he'll find us a cab first.
My gracious and beautiful date was so kind, she let the cabbie's family travel with us - not only that she paid him a minimum fare too! I was moved by her kindness and generosity. In the second cab, we traveled to the venue of the party - Dios at Tardeo - the same venue where I had one too many drinks a couple of months at a birthday party where Cirkles were performing. On the way, we found a mochi (cobbler) and he managed to fix my date's shoes. We bought ourselves Kolhapuris as a backup for.
It turned out to be a good decision - one of the buckles on the shoe that my date was wearing came off as we were walking to the venue after getting out of the cab. We meet our common friend Dee at the entrance - he was surprised to see us two together!
It was just about 10.15 pm by the time we entered. We went up to realize that there were hardly any people at the party. I hardly knew anyone except for the male money-mongering whore who I had seen in a few other parties. We got ourselves a couple of beers and sat at a couch with a fantastic view of the moon in front of us and talked.
Soon, people started trickling in and my date found a lot of young men who she from FaceBook – yes, Facebook. She knows dozens of young men who seek her company and advice on FaceBook. She is a fantastic lady and she offers her heart and soul to all of these young gay men who don’t have acceptance in their families. That’s how awesome my date is.
I took a look around and I found a bunch of my friends from other parties. I hung out with some of them. I tried to work my humor, but some of them were so bitchy and shallow that they took offense. That’s part and parcel of humor and sarcasm, I guess. Then, I found my dear friend Craig who was hanging out with his usual bunch of friends. We bitched about like how we always do. We love each other so much!
Then, I saw this male-whore trying to butter up a cute looking Firangi. Not only did I want to talk to this Firangi, I also wanted him to be warned about this whore trying to extract money from him. So, as he made his way to the bar, I sneaked in and bumped into this white guy and warned him about the whore. After that, I hung around him to see if he would initiate a conversation with me.
He eventually did and we spent the entire rest of the evening talking to each other. I was a little worried about leaving my date alone, but she was having a good time with her boys. Before the party ended, I exchanged numbers with the Firangi guy and we decided to meet up the next evening.
On our way back, I was a little worried if my date had felt bad. But I guess she didn’t. So, it was a good evening outing. I should do this more often.
Parties are not my kinda thing anymore
There was a time, a couple or years or so back, when I had a good time at parties -- especially gay parties. Of course, after coming to Mumbai, I was initiated to GB parties by a friend -- who himself is a surgeon, but is closeted. I had some acquaintances to talk to and things to talk about -- about my career as a surgeon, about my aspirations as a musician, about my wonderful relationship with Vinokur etc.
Things have changed much since then. In the last few parties or so, I have had the worst experiences of my life. I would stumble in, usually with a heartful of expectations, and find no one interesting. Soon, I'd be drinking down drinks while checking out stuff on the internet on my mobile. There might even be good cricket/football matches that I had left at home, the scores of which I would be checking furiously. No one would come talk to me -- of course, I wouldn't find anybody interesting to talk to too.
Occassionally, there would be a familiar face in the crowd, someone that I knew but wasn't close enough to hold a conversation with. I would usually go up to them and greet them and whine about the boring party. If there people who I knew better, I'd want to strike up a conversation with them, but they would need to cater to his other friends sooner than later. Finally, I'd be all alone with my mobile phone.
People have asked on occasions whom I was messaging. Of course, when I was in a relationship with Vinokur, I'd have been communicating with him in one way or the other. But now, I have no specific person to communicate with. So I'd be spending time on Twitter and FaceBook.
So what has changed? I have grown old, I have thrown away my surgical career, I've put on weight and grown hair all over, I have fallen out of my 'unbreakable' relationship with Vinokur, I am cagey with my mind full of insecurities, and my social phobia. But more importantly, is it a case of me changing as a person? From being a converted extrovert back to an introvert?
I don't know, but parties aren't my kinda thing anymore! Give me loneliness, give me internet, give me sport on television. I'm happy that way. Oh, I'm game for one-on-one dates still.
Things have changed much since then. In the last few parties or so, I have had the worst experiences of my life. I would stumble in, usually with a heartful of expectations, and find no one interesting. Soon, I'd be drinking down drinks while checking out stuff on the internet on my mobile. There might even be good cricket/football matches that I had left at home, the scores of which I would be checking furiously. No one would come talk to me -- of course, I wouldn't find anybody interesting to talk to too.
Occassionally, there would be a familiar face in the crowd, someone that I knew but wasn't close enough to hold a conversation with. I would usually go up to them and greet them and whine about the boring party. If there people who I knew better, I'd want to strike up a conversation with them, but they would need to cater to his other friends sooner than later. Finally, I'd be all alone with my mobile phone.
People have asked on occasions whom I was messaging. Of course, when I was in a relationship with Vinokur, I'd have been communicating with him in one way or the other. But now, I have no specific person to communicate with. So I'd be spending time on Twitter and FaceBook.
So what has changed? I have grown old, I have thrown away my surgical career, I've put on weight and grown hair all over, I have fallen out of my 'unbreakable' relationship with Vinokur, I am cagey with my mind full of insecurities, and my social phobia. But more importantly, is it a case of me changing as a person? From being a converted extrovert back to an introvert?
I don't know, but parties aren't my kinda thing anymore! Give me loneliness, give me internet, give me sport on television. I'm happy that way. Oh, I'm game for one-on-one dates still.
The curious case of self-flagellation
As I'm resocializing and resocia-gayzing rampantly these days, I am posed one question quite frequently - a little too frequently for my comfort.
'I haven't heard from/seen you in ages! How/where have you been Kris?'
My answer always has been in either of two forms. The rather bland and gentle one goes like this — 'I've been up and down a lot, more down than up. But I'm up now!' The more edgy answer intended to hurtle a jaw or two over a cliff goes like this — 'I have been suffering from clinical depression with suicidal tendencies. Thankfully, my friends (boyfriend in particular) and dear therapist (friend) managed to help me out of it. I'm on medications now — anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, and anti-anxiety drugs. I'm much better now. Thanks! Have you ever considered suicide?'
When I say 'up and down', I mean it. I'm suffering from type 2 bipolar disorder bordering on unipolar depression. If it is indeed unipolar, the times when I surface from the depths of depression (to near normalcy) represent the manic phases of bipolarity. Either way, my phrenus is fluctuant. A status message on my office private messenger summed it up nicely — 'Kris is up and down like a BMC-repaired road'.
This weekend was an uncharacteristically typical up and down one for me. Here’s a recap.
Friday night: It was a mad night at a music awards ceremony where I hung out with friends (read superstars and rock icons), got drunk, hit on a my-type-of-hunk singing legend and gave him my number, then got dared to take off my shirt for a Bollywood/rock diva in exchange for her taking her shirt off (this incident got covered in Bombay Times today), and finally retching and throwing up on my way back in the cab and in my apartment, before crashing.
Saturday morning: Woke up with a hangover and bilious gastritis — it was as if my liver was saying 'Get a life, jerk!' Then, for the first time in a year, I welcomed one of my dear office colleagues to my apartment. She was there to give me company during the shooting of a documentary film about openly gay people — the film title 'Engayging Lives' is derived from Here’s Truly. It was supposed to be shot a month ago and I was one of the main characters in the film; well, until my depression destroyed any possibility of me being a part of it. After starting therapy and somewhat stabilizing on it, I had gotten in touch with the charming girls from Sophiya college and they gave me another chance to be a visual part of the film — I'm doing the background score for the film anyway.
Saturday evening: After that, I had a fantastic gig with Shoonyas when we performed as an opening act for Agnee at VJTI college in Matunga. We did a quite remarkable set that was a crazy mix of rock and Bollywood. Three of my dear colleagues from my workplace were there to make the evening special. I can’t believe the support I get from my office - thanks so much! That, however, was the end of the high.
Then, I was set up for a traumatic and humiliating dinner invitation that I would not like to dwell on — apart from a salad that I tossed together, and a few moments clicking two lovers making out, I felt really horrible. My pills were there in the background but the self-flagellation was severe. This must have triggered my insecurities which led to me having an intense argument with Vinokur, which pushed me to the limits of masochistic depression. I could feel myself conjuring up plots and subplots in my mind, each and every step meant to hurt me a little deeper.
Luckily, thanks to just Vinokur, I was rescued once again and we somehow managed to get me to sleep without more mutual trauma! Sleep seems to be one potent douser of my flames.
Sunday morning: I woke up feeling much better and had a nice, long Skype conversation with Vinokur. Intense multi-tasking ensued and I started feeling like my old self — capable and confident. Moreover, I agreed for a date with a rather mysterious person, which I've been procrastinating for months if not years. A walk down the Juhu beach with him and his dog, and a relaxing conversation over tea later laid the background for an interesting prospect.
Sunday evening: After the date, I went to my first GB meet in months — mainly to meet up with the dear aunt of a friend. During the entire meet, I was keying things on my PDA, not speaking unless being specifically asked to. Later, I invited my favorite aunt to be my date for Valentine's Day! On my way back, a series of incidents including self-deprecatory humor, inability to remember the name of the book that I had read (Ellie Wiesel's 'Night'), and a couple of inflammatory FB threads bared everything in me in under half an hour. I knew I was going down to self-created whiplashes from my delusional world, but couldn't stop myself.
Ironically, an FB chat with one of my erstwhile co-residents from the hospital, during which my friend proved how narrow-minded, conservative and rude Indian society could still be vis-รก-vis homosexuality and a coming out situation. However, I defended valiantly without losing my calm despite my pride being at stake. This chat made me realize that I'm good after all, and that my return to practicing surgery in the myopic and treacherous environment of the hospital would be difficult if not impossible.
It's amazing how masochistic depression can almost whip you down to nothingness. For those who are suffering from the same, or those who know of people who do, please help yourself and others to overcome this!
'I haven't heard from/seen you in ages! How/where have you been Kris?'
My answer always has been in either of two forms. The rather bland and gentle one goes like this — 'I've been up and down a lot, more down than up. But I'm up now!' The more edgy answer intended to hurtle a jaw or two over a cliff goes like this — 'I have been suffering from clinical depression with suicidal tendencies. Thankfully, my friends (boyfriend in particular) and dear therapist (friend) managed to help me out of it. I'm on medications now — anti-depressants, anti-psychotics, and anti-anxiety drugs. I'm much better now. Thanks! Have you ever considered suicide?'
When I say 'up and down', I mean it. I'm suffering from type 2 bipolar disorder bordering on unipolar depression. If it is indeed unipolar, the times when I surface from the depths of depression (to near normalcy) represent the manic phases of bipolarity. Either way, my phrenus is fluctuant. A status message on my office private messenger summed it up nicely — 'Kris is up and down like a BMC-repaired road'.
This weekend was an uncharacteristically typical up and down one for me. Here’s a recap.
Friday night: It was a mad night at a music awards ceremony where I hung out with friends (read superstars and rock icons), got drunk, hit on a my-type-of-hunk singing legend and gave him my number, then got dared to take off my shirt for a Bollywood/rock diva in exchange for her taking her shirt off (this incident got covered in Bombay Times today), and finally retching and throwing up on my way back in the cab and in my apartment, before crashing.
Saturday morning: Woke up with a hangover and bilious gastritis — it was as if my liver was saying 'Get a life, jerk!' Then, for the first time in a year, I welcomed one of my dear office colleagues to my apartment. She was there to give me company during the shooting of a documentary film about openly gay people — the film title 'Engayging Lives' is derived from Here’s Truly. It was supposed to be shot a month ago and I was one of the main characters in the film; well, until my depression destroyed any possibility of me being a part of it. After starting therapy and somewhat stabilizing on it, I had gotten in touch with the charming girls from Sophiya college and they gave me another chance to be a visual part of the film — I'm doing the background score for the film anyway.
Saturday evening: After that, I had a fantastic gig with Shoonyas when we performed as an opening act for Agnee at VJTI college in Matunga. We did a quite remarkable set that was a crazy mix of rock and Bollywood. Three of my dear colleagues from my workplace were there to make the evening special. I can’t believe the support I get from my office - thanks so much! That, however, was the end of the high.
Then, I was set up for a traumatic and humiliating dinner invitation that I would not like to dwell on — apart from a salad that I tossed together, and a few moments clicking two lovers making out, I felt really horrible. My pills were there in the background but the self-flagellation was severe. This must have triggered my insecurities which led to me having an intense argument with Vinokur, which pushed me to the limits of masochistic depression. I could feel myself conjuring up plots and subplots in my mind, each and every step meant to hurt me a little deeper.
Luckily, thanks to just Vinokur, I was rescued once again and we somehow managed to get me to sleep without more mutual trauma! Sleep seems to be one potent douser of my flames.
Sunday morning: I woke up feeling much better and had a nice, long Skype conversation with Vinokur. Intense multi-tasking ensued and I started feeling like my old self — capable and confident. Moreover, I agreed for a date with a rather mysterious person, which I've been procrastinating for months if not years. A walk down the Juhu beach with him and his dog, and a relaxing conversation over tea later laid the background for an interesting prospect.
Sunday evening: After the date, I went to my first GB meet in months — mainly to meet up with the dear aunt of a friend. During the entire meet, I was keying things on my PDA, not speaking unless being specifically asked to. Later, I invited my favorite aunt to be my date for Valentine's Day! On my way back, a series of incidents including self-deprecatory humor, inability to remember the name of the book that I had read (Ellie Wiesel's 'Night'), and a couple of inflammatory FB threads bared everything in me in under half an hour. I knew I was going down to self-created whiplashes from my delusional world, but couldn't stop myself.
Ironically, an FB chat with one of my erstwhile co-residents from the hospital, during which my friend proved how narrow-minded, conservative and rude Indian society could still be vis-รก-vis homosexuality and a coming out situation. However, I defended valiantly without losing my calm despite my pride being at stake. This chat made me realize that I'm good after all, and that my return to practicing surgery in the myopic and treacherous environment of the hospital would be difficult if not impossible.
It's amazing how masochistic depression can almost whip you down to nothingness. For those who are suffering from the same, or those who know of people who do, please help yourself and others to overcome this!
The green eyed beauty
I'm sorry I didn't do this post earlier. I was too tired and sleepy to do this yesterday itself. For some reason or the other, I woke up very early around 4.30 am. I did my chores and worked on a song a little before having a rehearsal session with Noise Market.
Soon after that, I left for the much awaited GB brunch which costume party was themed Madonna meets Munnabhai. When I came to Mumbai 3 and half years back, a GB Brunch was the first GB event that I had gone to. It was a very liberating experience then as I was ushered into the world of open gay social life. I had gone with a good friend of mine who also happens to be a red-hot-shot surgeon.
This time around, the event was boring. There were hardly 50 men attending. The various events which took place were based on the theme. The music was drab too because of the shabby speaker system. The only fun game was a contest to put the maximum number of condoms on a brinjal held as a dick. Ironically, I and my partner (for the event) won the event with 7 and a half condoms!
The food was delicious. More so because of the mere fact that I have not been eating anything decent for the past 2 months or so. I had lots of chicken & fish and biriyani. That itself made the event worthwhile for the entry charge. But the real treat was this middle aged balding man with green eyes. I was so ogling at him that I wished I could hit on him. Thankfully, one of my other doctor friends was his friend and I was introduced to him. But I couldn't talk to him much. He had to leave and so did I.
I came back home kinda disappointed that the brunch wasn't as exciting as I had thought it could be. I was so tired and sleepy that I came and sent Vinokur a message stating the obvious and that I was going to sleep. I was hoping to get back up early to catch him before his sleeptime. But that didn't happen. I slept for a cool 13 hours and woke up at around 10 in the morning!
Soon after that, I left for the much awaited GB brunch which costume party was themed Madonna meets Munnabhai. When I came to Mumbai 3 and half years back, a GB Brunch was the first GB event that I had gone to. It was a very liberating experience then as I was ushered into the world of open gay social life. I had gone with a good friend of mine who also happens to be a red-hot-shot surgeon.
This time around, the event was boring. There were hardly 50 men attending. The various events which took place were based on the theme. The music was drab too because of the shabby speaker system. The only fun game was a contest to put the maximum number of condoms on a brinjal held as a dick. Ironically, I and my partner (for the event) won the event with 7 and a half condoms!
The food was delicious. More so because of the mere fact that I have not been eating anything decent for the past 2 months or so. I had lots of chicken & fish and biriyani. That itself made the event worthwhile for the entry charge. But the real treat was this middle aged balding man with green eyes. I was so ogling at him that I wished I could hit on him. Thankfully, one of my other doctor friends was his friend and I was introduced to him. But I couldn't talk to him much. He had to leave and so did I.
I came back home kinda disappointed that the brunch wasn't as exciting as I had thought it could be. I was so tired and sleepy that I came and sent Vinokur a message stating the obvious and that I was going to sleep. I was hoping to get back up early to catch him before his sleeptime. But that didn't happen. I slept for a cool 13 hours and woke up at around 10 in the morning!
The Uncanny X-man in me
I've had a rough day. And that too, despite having a good practice session with Noise Market and an amazing GB Parents meet. I don't know why I'm kinda pissed at myself and the rest of the world. The reason is quite obvious - the lack of money and the fact that I'll probably be devoid of internet and mobile phone services the next month if no money comes in.
Even in this state, the only thing that could really cheer me up is a couple of episodes in the X-men animated series in which I was pleasantly surprised by the amazing depth of the plot. And after watching Magneto doing one of the coolest things that anyone could imagine doing - dying and falling to Earth from space and getting your life back because of Earth's Magnetic Field and then fighting off 198 Nuclear missiles headed at earth - I'm feeling happy again.
I remembered that I needed to blog. And that I needed to blog about X-men. And that I needed to convince more people that I'm a mutant as I claimed yesterday. So, here's photographic evidence to prove that I'm related to Storm as well. First is a picture of me. Second, of Storm. I urge you all to find your mutation as soon as possible and come out on your blogs!
Me (Kris)
Storm.jpg)
For all the people who suddenly felt the need for 'knowing' me better after reading this, don't get your hopes up too high. I don't have any of Storm's weather controlling powers and thereby, I can't avert the floods in Bihar, Nasik, Orissa etc. For those who are curious as what my mutant powers are, check my last post out!
(PS: For those dimwits who thought that the title is weird and is out of topic, please note that 'Uncanny X-men' is the flagship comic series for the X-men franchise as Wiki says here!)
(PS2: For these, now enlightened people, and to those fans of X-men who admire my amazing powers to make titles up - all of you can now bow to my superior skills to form blog titles.)
Even in this state, the only thing that could really cheer me up is a couple of episodes in the X-men animated series in which I was pleasantly surprised by the amazing depth of the plot. And after watching Magneto doing one of the coolest things that anyone could imagine doing - dying and falling to Earth from space and getting your life back because of Earth's Magnetic Field and then fighting off 198 Nuclear missiles headed at earth - I'm feeling happy again.
I remembered that I needed to blog. And that I needed to blog about X-men. And that I needed to convince more people that I'm a mutant as I claimed yesterday. So, here's photographic evidence to prove that I'm related to Storm as well. First is a picture of me. Second, of Storm. I urge you all to find your mutation as soon as possible and come out on your blogs!
Me (Kris)
Storm
.jpg)
For all the people who suddenly felt the need for 'knowing' me better after reading this, don't get your hopes up too high. I don't have any of Storm's weather controlling powers and thereby, I can't avert the floods in Bihar, Nasik, Orissa etc. For those who are curious as what my mutant powers are, check my last post out!
(PS: For those dimwits who thought that the title is weird and is out of topic, please note that 'Uncanny X-men' is the flagship comic series for the X-men franchise as Wiki says here!)
(PS2: For these, now enlightened people, and to those fans of X-men who admire my amazing powers to make titles up - all of you can now bow to my superior skills to form blog titles.)
The picnic at 'Doctor's farm'
Today (3rd of August), Friendship Day, oozed with fun. 1 hour and 20 minutes of sleep before a relaxing picnic might not be your idea of fun, but as some of you might be knowing, hyposomnolence (noun: a state of lack of sleep, etymology: Engayging Life, the blog) does wonders for me like increased libido, a certain level of happiness etc. I felt that it improved the overall experience of the picnic.
We went to a place called 'Doctor's Farm' in Kolad (somewhere between Mumbai and Pune, as one of the tired organizers explained to me on our way back. I doubted the authenticity of that claim and I was correct) in a bus and accompanying me were the gayest and the cutest men you will ever see. Drown in the misery of envy and jealousy (;) that was intended for a few fellow bloggers)!
I and him caught up with a lot of our lives as the bus meandered across Mumbai, halting at the various 'pick-up points' in the city to 'pick-up' gay men interested in 'fun'. And the 'fun' did start as the bus took the highway with Antaaksharis and stuff. Hence, whilst the ladies were having a giant blue whale of a time, I started off with my photo shoots. I took a lot of pictures of theguys gays in various positions of howling, wailing, yapping and yowling.
Soon it was time for introductions which were nothing but charming. One of the core members of GB, who has the wiliest shade of sense of humor and a tendency to flourish even in his 'digs' stood by the introductee to help 'come out' to the crowd. A sample: a guy with a place without the boy friend would be asked to mention the charge rates for 'happy hours', 'midnight charges' etc. Everyone, including the most reluctant of all newbies were laughing, baring and sharing themselves; this is what these parties are for and that's where GB seems to achieve what it strives so hard to: to provide gays a safe & comfortable environment to get comfortable with their sexuality.
In about 3 hours after the start, we reached our destination: a beautiful countryside with the fantasy land look with meadows, streams, waterfalls. The air was hot and humid or else, it would just like a dream. At the farm house, at least I was surprised to see the facilities. A relatively equipped kitchen/restaurant, good toilets/bathrooms and huge dorm like rooms (something that you would have seen in dreams about orgies) complimented the garden and lounging place.
The frolic lingered on during the breakfast and the changing session (where young, attractive gays get together in this big dorm room to undress themselves and then to put on skimpy swimming attire) which was highlighted by the catwalk of the queens. I, despite being as un-queen-y and grace-less as Prince Charles, did the walk too - and received insane amounts of cheering - much misplaced I presume. I was loaned a t-shirt and a pair of shorts by the aforementioned bundle of wit which saved me the blemishes of my lack of preparedness for the picnic.
In a ride simulating the African safaris; just replace wild grazing animals with wild 'gay'zing men, we were tempo-ported to the stream and waterfall. We were surprisingly not alone there. Other picnic groups and a group of native children were enjoying nature downstream. 50 out of the 52 strong group jumped into the cool, calming stream. I myself was a little scared of slipping in the mossy rock and injuring myself. The two hours spent hence can't be put in words. Even those were a little shy at the outset unshackled themselves to enjoy.
I, after an hour and a half in the water, some of which was spent under and behind the waterfall, decided to get out and take some snaps. I don't think I really needed to say anything more lest for the chance to make someone else feel sorry about what they were missing out: beautifully sculptured, near-naked bodies of handsome gay men draped in virtually nothing posing for me! Honestly, I didn't expect to be enjoying taking photos of them! But did I have fun!
Four of them (including) him, were very good at posing and I was able to take some shots worthy of magazine covers and center-spreads. The others, even a little unsure and couth in their way, posed for me. The only thing which sort of chucked away a little bit of fun was some gerontophobic comments from almost everyone in our group about a group of older men bathing nearby. I did try to vocalize my protests but soon rested my case.
Back at the farm, another wet-dream of regular gays transpired as most showered (not in common showers, ladies) and got dressed. After a very tasty lunch, I showed many how handsome they looked in the photos. Soon, we were playing 'Dumb Charades'. I realized a startling fact: gay men are really the best in such games with their intelligence, charm and talents showing through. That took us through to tea and it was time to leave.
I, by then, was feeling rather tired and moody and reclused to my phone where I spent time checking my e-mail and blogs. The energy of the group hardly feel though as I heard spasms of laughter every few seconds in the Truth or Dare and Antaakshari games.
All in all, a fantastic experience. One, in which I confirmed that gay men are tons more fun than straight men. The Friendship Day in which I made a few good friends, I wish I could mention the names to thank (to [F. C.], [D.], [S. H.], [M. R.], [N. N. R.]). And I got to know better of my already-befriended ones ([H. G.], [U. S.], [A.], [S. J.], [H. J.], [S. B.]).
And I'm already looking forward to next picnic.
(PS: A very happy and not-so-very-belated Friendship Day!)
We went to a place called 'Doctor's Farm' in Kolad (somewhere between Mumbai and Pune, as one of the tired organizers explained to me on our way back. I doubted the authenticity of that claim and I was correct) in a bus and accompanying me were the gayest and the cutest men you will ever see. Drown in the misery of envy and jealousy (;) that was intended for a few fellow bloggers)!
I and him caught up with a lot of our lives as the bus meandered across Mumbai, halting at the various 'pick-up points' in the city to 'pick-up' gay men interested in 'fun'. And the 'fun' did start as the bus took the highway with Antaaksharis and stuff. Hence, whilst the ladies were having a giant blue whale of a time, I started off with my photo shoots. I took a lot of pictures of the
Confession: I suck at Antaakshari. I think it can be attributed to my relative abstinence from Bollywood music for the many yeas. All I know are a few songs which I listened to in my childhood. Besides, I somehow find the 'tone-deaf' singing hard to fathom.
Soon it was time for introductions which were nothing but charming. One of the core members of GB, who has the wiliest shade of sense of humor and a tendency to flourish even in his 'digs' stood by the introductee to help 'come out' to the crowd. A sample: a guy with a place without the boy friend would be asked to mention the charge rates for 'happy hours', 'midnight charges' etc. Everyone, including the most reluctant of all newbies were laughing, baring and sharing themselves; this is what these parties are for and that's where GB seems to achieve what it strives so hard to: to provide gays a safe & comfortable environment to get comfortable with their sexuality.
In about 3 hours after the start, we reached our destination: a beautiful countryside with the fantasy land look with meadows, streams, waterfalls. The air was hot and humid or else, it would just like a dream. At the farm house, at least I was surprised to see the facilities. A relatively equipped kitchen/restaurant, good toilets/bathrooms and huge dorm like rooms (something that you would have seen in dreams about orgies) complimented the garden and lounging place.
The frolic lingered on during the breakfast and the changing session (where young, attractive gays get together in this big dorm room to undress themselves and then to put on skimpy swimming attire) which was highlighted by the catwalk of the queens. I, despite being as un-queen-y and grace-less as Prince Charles, did the walk too - and received insane amounts of cheering - much misplaced I presume. I was loaned a t-shirt and a pair of shorts by the aforementioned bundle of wit which saved me the blemishes of my lack of preparedness for the picnic.
In a ride simulating the African safaris; just replace wild grazing animals with wild 'gay'zing men, we were tempo-ported to the stream and waterfall. We were surprisingly not alone there. Other picnic groups and a group of native children were enjoying nature downstream. 50 out of the 52 strong group jumped into the cool, calming stream. I myself was a little scared of slipping in the mossy rock and injuring myself. The two hours spent hence can't be put in words. Even those were a little shy at the outset unshackled themselves to enjoy.
I, after an hour and a half in the water, some of which was spent under and behind the waterfall, decided to get out and take some snaps. I don't think I really needed to say anything more lest for the chance to make someone else feel sorry about what they were missing out: beautifully sculptured, near-naked bodies of handsome gay men draped in virtually nothing posing for me! Honestly, I didn't expect to be enjoying taking photos of them! But did I have fun!
Four of them (including) him, were very good at posing and I was able to take some shots worthy of magazine covers and center-spreads. The others, even a little unsure and couth in their way, posed for me. The only thing which sort of chucked away a little bit of fun was some gerontophobic comments from almost everyone in our group about a group of older men bathing nearby. I did try to vocalize my protests but soon rested my case.
Back at the farm, another wet-dream of regular gays transpired as most showered (not in common showers, ladies) and got dressed. After a very tasty lunch, I showed many how handsome they looked in the photos. Soon, we were playing 'Dumb Charades'. I realized a startling fact: gay men are really the best in such games with their intelligence, charm and talents showing through. That took us through to tea and it was time to leave.
I, by then, was feeling rather tired and moody and reclused to my phone where I spent time checking my e-mail and blogs. The energy of the group hardly feel though as I heard spasms of laughter every few seconds in the Truth or Dare and Antaakshari games.
All in all, a fantastic experience. One, in which I confirmed that gay men are tons more fun than straight men. The Friendship Day in which I made a few good friends, I wish I could mention the names to thank (to [F. C.], [D.], [S. H.], [M. R.], [N. N. R.]). And I got to know better of my already-befriended ones ([H. G.], [U. S.], [A.], [S. J.], [H. J.], [S. B.]).
And I'm already looking forward to next picnic.
(PS: A very happy and not-so-very-belated Friendship Day!)
The GB trek to Sudhagad
Despite my band mates objecting to me going for a trek, citing a 'potentially risky endeavour which could result in injury which might hamper the recording sessions', I went for it. In fact, the first reaction that I had got about a few weeks back when I suggested this idea of the trek was so agressive 'C'mon, you aren't going for a GB TREK on the day before we hit the studio' that I was scared to tell them that I had actually signed up for it. Most of last week, I spent minutes contemplating the reaction of my band mates to my decision and thereby banning me from attending it to the financial loss of 650 Rs. (for registration) if I actually managed to skip the trek.
So, I got up very early (didn't sleep well at all). I climbed on the bus with a few of my GB acquaintances. During the entire trip to the hill station about 200 km off of Mumbai, I felt like I was with wrong company. It must have been tiredness and sleeplessness. It also must have been the sense of doing something that you suspect your band mates might use to back up their claims for my non-commitance to the band. Anyway, I settled on a window seat with a pile of Sunday newspapers and started reading them. In a few minutes I fell asleep and didn't wake up until we reached the destination. That, despite the ruckus of 'antaaksharis' and other frivolous fun activities going on with the very 'gay' GB members. That also had reminded me of the painfully boring trips that I had to undertake with my family and relatives during my childhood, adolescence and my young adult life. Almost similar levels of indifferent, thoughtless behaviour from the company I felt.
Things changed to good to great to incredible once the actual trek started. It was a hard climb, even for me, with the altitude depriving us of oxygen. The acquaintances had suddenly changed from intimidating to welcoming. The antecedent insomnia was the culprit cause for this particular delusion. The wonderful camera that Vinokur had gifted me strapped on my neck gave me the excuse to be alone and to spend time shooting nature. Although I wanted to take pictures of the landscapes, the solitude was also a way of escaping unwelcome conversations and potential 'hit-on's. Only a few people knew that I was 'settled' with this Gora Dad. To the others with their aquiline eyes, I must have been a handsome sitting duckling - maybe on the thinner side.
The climb up the slippery stony path bordering gorgeous gorges was really draining - both physically and emotionally. But I managed to take close to 300 photographs, all of which will be available for you at the end of this post. I fiddled around a lot with the camera and my 'framing' options, as I had a plentitude to choose from. Once on top of the hill I even managed to take a nap on a dry stone. Laying there looking at the dark cloudy sky blending almost imperceptibly into wonderful mountains and cliffs and drifting away to sleep, it felt like I was somewhere in New Zealand, in the past, a silly helper on the set of the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy.
After having a half-cooked (in all senses of the word) lunch, we climbed down. Contradictory to expectations widely expressed amongst the group, we had an easy climb down. To add to it, the view had gotten better as we were facing the valley while coming down. This time, I could not manage to isolate myself from the group. That led to the uncomfortable situation; vide supra.
The ride back was hilarious. What could you expect when a gang of extremely excitable gays play 'Truth or Dare?' The truths were all about kinky, raunchy bed-time secrets to seductions. The dares were all about exchanging sweets between oral cavities and kissing and licking someone elses something. I was playing this game for the first time and I chose 'truths' always and ended up revealing my professional pre-seductions.
During the ride, I got a call from my guitar player. As usual, I was scared to even answer because of my inherent feeling of impending unhappiness with regard to something that I did/was doing which has/will/shall affect the band deleteriously. It turned out to be just a casual 'What's up?' call.
Why am I thinking like this? Why do I feel less confident about things? Why do I feel that I'm diverging away from the ideologies of my band and its members?
And the links to the photos
So, I got up very early (didn't sleep well at all). I climbed on the bus with a few of my GB acquaintances. During the entire trip to the hill station about 200 km off of Mumbai, I felt like I was with wrong company. It must have been tiredness and sleeplessness. It also must have been the sense of doing something that you suspect your band mates might use to back up their claims for my non-commitance to the band. Anyway, I settled on a window seat with a pile of Sunday newspapers and started reading them. In a few minutes I fell asleep and didn't wake up until we reached the destination. That, despite the ruckus of 'antaaksharis' and other frivolous fun activities going on with the very 'gay' GB members. That also had reminded me of the painfully boring trips that I had to undertake with my family and relatives during my childhood, adolescence and my young adult life. Almost similar levels of indifferent, thoughtless behaviour from the company I felt.
Things changed to good to great to incredible once the actual trek started. It was a hard climb, even for me, with the altitude depriving us of oxygen. The acquaintances had suddenly changed from intimidating to welcoming. The antecedent insomnia was the culprit cause for this particular delusion. The wonderful camera that Vinokur had gifted me strapped on my neck gave me the excuse to be alone and to spend time shooting nature. Although I wanted to take pictures of the landscapes, the solitude was also a way of escaping unwelcome conversations and potential 'hit-on's. Only a few people knew that I was 'settled' with this Gora Dad. To the others with their aquiline eyes, I must have been a handsome sitting duckling - maybe on the thinner side.
The climb up the slippery stony path bordering gorgeous gorges was really draining - both physically and emotionally. But I managed to take close to 300 photographs, all of which will be available for you at the end of this post. I fiddled around a lot with the camera and my 'framing' options, as I had a plentitude to choose from. Once on top of the hill I even managed to take a nap on a dry stone. Laying there looking at the dark cloudy sky blending almost imperceptibly into wonderful mountains and cliffs and drifting away to sleep, it felt like I was somewhere in New Zealand, in the past, a silly helper on the set of the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy.
After having a half-cooked (in all senses of the word) lunch, we climbed down. Contradictory to expectations widely expressed amongst the group, we had an easy climb down. To add to it, the view had gotten better as we were facing the valley while coming down. This time, I could not manage to isolate myself from the group. That led to the uncomfortable situation; vide supra.
The ride back was hilarious. What could you expect when a gang of extremely excitable gays play 'Truth or Dare?' The truths were all about kinky, raunchy bed-time secrets to seductions. The dares were all about exchanging sweets between oral cavities and kissing and licking someone elses something. I was playing this game for the first time and I chose 'truths' always and ended up revealing my professional pre-seductions.
During the ride, I got a call from my guitar player. As usual, I was scared to even answer because of my inherent feeling of impending unhappiness with regard to something that I did/was doing which has/will/shall affect the band deleteriously. It turned out to be just a casual 'What's up?' call.
Why am I thinking like this? Why do I feel less confident about things? Why do I feel that I'm diverging away from the ideologies of my band and its members?
And the links to the photos
PS: Vinokur wants me to put up a poll in here asking you readers to rate me on a handsomeness scale of 1 to 50 as compared to the others in the trek; 1 being the best and 50 being the worst. It looks narcissistic and stuff, but he's my lover. I have to do this for him. :-)
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