Outrageous law

I’m from Kerala and I’m ashamed of the laws there. Yesterday, the authorities imposed a new law: nobody can  be on a railway station or travel in a train after having consumed alcohol. Yes, you don’t have to be drunk. Even if they detect traces, it’s going to cost you.

Alcohol is a lifestyle. A certain section of the population use it as a food/beverage and a vast majority of them never indulge in any antisocial activities. Individuals like me know how to behave, even if it is with alcohol or without. Those who misbehave will do so even without being under the influence of alcohol.

It’s discrimination against a minority of the population. Kerala government, not every body who enjoys alcohol molests women. Not every teetotaler would molest women either. Just get rid of this stupid law.

Cousin’s wedding in Kerala

I don’t quite remember why I agreed to it, but I did. Oh yeah, my uncle was threatening (in a friendly manner, of course) that if I don’t make it, there would be drastic consequences. Anyway, I had agreed to attend my cousin’s wedding in Kozhikkode, and had dirt-cheap JetLite tickets purchased three months back.

The to flight was eventless. But then onward, everything was chaotic. Nobody knew how far the wedding hall was from the airport. I finally hired a cab and set out on my own and found the hall. There, I was greeted by all sorts of faces from my past – which I have been trying to hide from, I must admit.

The reception of my relatives, in general was really, good. All of them were happy (or pretended to be) and did not ask too much. A couple of questions about marriage popped up here and there, but I was able to tackle them with humor. After all, I had to keep my word to my parents – they didn’t want me coming out to my extended family.

The only memorable, rather scary, instance was when an uncle took me to the side and started asking me questions like “Are you the old Kris?” “Are you hiding behind a veil” “Are these questions causing you discomfort?” “When will you come back to us?” Then it dawned on me that he was on FaceBook and had seen most of my pictures with Joe.

I guess he knew that I was gay but was shocked and was not very well read about homosexuality.

Of course I met with my Mom and Dad, sister and BIL, and my BIL’s Mom and Dad. I also met all the uncles and aunts that I like and those I don’t like too much. So it was a mixed bag. Some of the cousins that I knew as very small had grown into adolescents and shit. That’s like scary.

Well, apart from that, I spiked up my wedding gift to my cousin (a relatively expensive Bvlgari grooming kit + condoms + lube), and hung out with Ray over beer and beef fry. That was nostalgic. We even rang up some of our old ‘fuckbuddies’.

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!

A kind landlord

Continuing on with yesterday’s post...

Yesterday evening, my landlord, a wonderful Keralaite man, who has become a good friend of me now, called me. He wanted to know if I wanted to extend my contract. I had decided by then that I had to. Once I agreed, he asked me if I would be willing to consider a hike in the rent.

I had to think twice – I shouldn’t offend this friend of mine, and I had to try and avoid an avoidable raise in my expenses. I told him my situation. I was honest with him. And guess what, he agreed to my proposition of letting me stay another year without increasing the rent.

I’m very thankful to this wonderful man who is playing a major part in my life by offering me his apartment at a relatively cheap rent. I hope people like me who are struggling financially find such kind landlords!

An uncomfortable phone conversation

My Mom called me midway through last week. I've been sort of avoiding talking with her because of what happened a week or so back.

'So how are you?'

'I'm fine.'

'Are you eating properly?'

'Yeah.'

'What did you have for breakfast?

'Sandwiches.'

'What are you going to have for lunch?'

'Something that my friends will bring me.'

'Okay, your sister's here. Do you want to talk to her?'

'Not really.'

Phone still gets handed over.

'Hi da, how are you?'

'I'm okay. Going on.'

'How is work and music?'

'Going on. Gigs now and then.'

'What else?'

'Nothing much really. How is the baby doing?'

'Nothing much. I've not put on weight. Just my belly is out.'

*Uncomfortable silence*

'So, are you coming down to Kerala for my delivery?'

'No.'

*Uncomfortable silence*

'I'm a little busy now at work. We'll talk later. Bye.'

'Bye.'

Happy Onam - or is it?

Four days back, I wasn't even aware of when Onam was. I wasn't even sure that it was this month. For those unaware, Onam (wiki) is the traditional harvest festival of Kerala. This is when Mallus from all around the world -- yeah, they are all around the world, some even on the moon -- come back to Kerala and celebrate the festival with their families with feasts and festivities. You are supposed to do it if you are true-core Mallu.

Not that I'm not one. But I haven't celebrated Onam in the last five years. Ever since I came to Mumbai in 2005 to start my residency in KEM hospital, Onam has been almost like an afterthought. In the first two years, I eagerly longed to have a feast at the least on Thiruvonam day, at some restaurant in Mumbai.

But look at me now. I don't want a feast. I don't want to celebrate. All I want is to be left alone. Technically, I could even have flown to Kerala and spent some time with my family. Yeah, right! The last of my priorities now is to spend time with my family -- my parents and sister are okay -- but everyone else, I would not want to spend even the tiniest nanosecond of my time with them.

Why? Because I would have start to explain as to why I lost my way from being a successful orthopedic surgeon, the best academician in the family, to a paltry KPO job which hardly pays for what I deserve. Also, I would have to explain to them why I have grown my hair long, why I have pimples, why I have a paunch, why I can't live without Internet or Twitter, why I can't be anything but funny, and why music is so important to me.

They wouldn't get it. And I don't want to try and get it to them either. It's a lost cause, I feel. This feeling is so deep rooted that I've almost made my mind up to skip my sister's delivery -- the time that I'll become an uncle, or the time that I'll come closest to my cherished parenthood -- yeah, I'm forfeiting all that. I'm probably not going to Kerala then.

About a couple of weeks back, I had a conversation with my sister about this. Obviously, she was shocked. I tried to explain that I can't handle the family -- I also mentioned my parents as a part of the family that I can't face -- and she couldn't believe it! Of course, she can't believe it. She doesn't want to believe it. She thinks that I'm selfish and an jackass of an asshole. Well, I might be, but that's what suits me and my living right now.

So, on this day when the rest of the Malludom is celebrating the festival of Onam, I'm brooding at the thought of how my ties with my family are disintegrating -- mostly due to my own insecurities and issues, but partly due to them as well. I guess, I will once and for all be the brother who never lived up to his promises the son who never lived up to his parents' expectations.

Dreams from a weirdo mind/brain - part 2

I'll continue (read part 1) my series on dreams on this fine Independence Day morning. I must thank Vinokur for making me do this. He thinks recording dreams is one of the coolest things to do. This one is about about hydrophobia (or maybe aquaphobia as this Wiki article suggests). Not the kind that is associated with rabid dogs (or men for that matter).

The dark, menacing clouds were looming high over my head. It had been raining all throughout yesterday and today. The whole town was flooding. I knew I had to escape this. As I was pacing through the dirt-path, I remembered that I needed to cross the river; the angry, violent force of water. Across it lay the land of peace, happiness and freedom.

Soon, I’m greeted by the haunting sound of water. I knew that it was near, it was the test of my life. And I saw it! The wide, brooding body of water which had turned into a wild monster after all the torrential downfall. I was scared of reaching near enough to take a closer look at it. I ran for a mile or two along its side. It only got more threatening.

Then I saw it. The rope bridge strung across the couple of miles of madness was swaying in the wind. I walked slowly towards my destiny. I had to be strong. I had to prove myself. Soon I found myself walking on the rope bridge clinging to my life. I tried hard to not look down. The river seemed to have widened to the dimension of a lake but retains its ferocity. I wished if things were not so tough in my life.

Wondering what this is all about? Well, during my childhood, a traumatic one at that, my weekends were more painful. Incredible for a kid who goes to school, right? I'm not talking about you brats who enjoyed a memorable growing-up-time with a warm household to spend it in!

My mother had her share of problems with her in-laws to the extent that she had to go over to her folks place and spend the weekend there in order to 'enjoy' it. She used to take me and my sister along without even passing a thought if our lives were getting affected. I had to miss all of my regular friends who listened to music (yes, I used to listen to music when I was a kid!), played cricket and hung out with.

I was stranded at this godforsaken, conservative part of town with kids who liked chanting hymns to reading comics. No friends and extremely boring. My giant, forgettable grandfather and the dysfunctional conversations that my Mom used to have with her folks used to scare me (they still haunt me). I used to try in every way to get away from all this to find something better to do.

Strangely enough, I chose something that I was scared of. Right next to this place was the biggest river in Thiruvananthapuram (Karamana river - Wiki, Map). I would go sit by the river, throw stones at it etc, despite my phobia. The 'good' part of the town lay across the river and I always wished if I could cross over and be with my friends and be happy.


Apart from this, I remember that I was stranded in a boat in the middle of the Thekkady lake during a vacation trip. The light was dimming and there was the risk of not being rescued. I really thought that I would find myself in the obituary section of the newspaper the headline of which would be 'School kids drown in the lake'.


Coming back to life - I still have problems with large bodies of water. And I can't still swim. I have real problem in bathing on streams/waterfalls etc. And I don't even know how I will feel on a cruise ship.

(Image courtesy 1 - SkyScraperCity.com , 2 - Keralamist)