- September 25th: I went to Rajasthan to perform with a Bollywood playback singer, Kshitij Tarey
- September 26th: I met Joseph Anthony Ruffino, my boyfriend! <3
- Late September: I start going on a diet and gymming regularly!
- September/October/November: I finally have sex!
- September/October: I had many gigs with Cirkles and Overhung!
- October 5th/6th: I had two gigs with Monali Thakur, a Bollywood playback singer!
- October 15th - I lose 2 kgs and 2 inches everywhere!
- October 22nd - I contract dengue fever with thrombocytopenia.
- October 24th - 29th - I get admitted in a hospital and undergo supportive treatment and platelet transfusion.
- October 29th - My sister flies in for my discharge. I catch up with her.
- October 31st - I install an AC in my apartment
- October 31st - My parents fly in to stay with me for 5 weeks.
- November 1st - I buy a gas connection.
- November 7th - I turned 32 years today! Wish me happy b'day! And I join back work!
Showing posts with label long term relationships. Show all posts
Showing posts with label long term relationships. Show all posts
Two months
I have been away from the blog for two months or so. In those two months, my life has changed for the better.
State of Affairs
Am I in a relationship? I would like to consider so. He is far far away and has a busy life. The maximum I can hope is to meet him twice a year when he visits India. But the crux of the matter is this - the kind of feelings that I have for him have not been reciprocated. Neither do I know if they ever will be.
These are the facts. I know for a fact that he’s not into me as I’m into him. I, actually, am almost in love with him, but I’m trying to keep my feelings in check. From what I can make out, I don’t think he has the skills/desire to keep the fire of a long-distance relationship raging on.
We talk to each other regularly – almost on all days. This is by phone – yes, long-distance calls on international calling cards. Our conversations are usually brief and we never get to a point where it gets nice and cozy. I hardly see him on Skype or Yahoo, and when I do, he is usually busy doing some chore or the other. It almost seems as if he doesn’t have time for me.
What do I feel? I feel a tad disappointed. Yet, I realize that I cannot force him to change - to propel his feelings to another level. At the same time, I feel extremely attracted to him and I think that he’s worth the bill. I would like to try to take this as far as I can and put in as much effort as possible. And I hope that we will reach a place where we can both feel happy about each other.
Of course, he will read this post some day or the other. When he does, I want to make it clear to him that this is not emotional blackmail. It’s just an honest assessment of the state of affairs.
These are the facts. I know for a fact that he’s not into me as I’m into him. I, actually, am almost in love with him, but I’m trying to keep my feelings in check. From what I can make out, I don’t think he has the skills/desire to keep the fire of a long-distance relationship raging on.
We talk to each other regularly – almost on all days. This is by phone – yes, long-distance calls on international calling cards. Our conversations are usually brief and we never get to a point where it gets nice and cozy. I hardly see him on Skype or Yahoo, and when I do, he is usually busy doing some chore or the other. It almost seems as if he doesn’t have time for me.
What do I feel? I feel a tad disappointed. Yet, I realize that I cannot force him to change - to propel his feelings to another level. At the same time, I feel extremely attracted to him and I think that he’s worth the bill. I would like to try to take this as far as I can and put in as much effort as possible. And I hope that we will reach a place where we can both feel happy about each other.
Of course, he will read this post some day or the other. When he does, I want to make it clear to him that this is not emotional blackmail. It’s just an honest assessment of the state of affairs.
Social unshackling thanks to a beautiful gay couple
A few months back, I met a friend on a personals website. He was an elderly man (well, middle-aged by my standards) from Mumbai who was in a long-term relationship with his boyfriend. He seemed genuine in his correspondence to me and tried to keep in touch with me regularly. I got to know from his communications that his boyfriend was much older to him—the boyfriend had undergone cardiac surgery and was recuperating from it.
The good thing about my friend is that he seemed to be interested in me as a friend and didn’t seem to have an ulterior dark side like my other older former friend. In the few months that we had known each other over messages and SMSes, he must have invited me at least three or four times to drop by his apartment, which is quite close to KEM, and visit him and his partner. Once, I had even considered visiting him during my visit to help May out with her apartment hunt.
This Monday, I received an SMS from him. He was inviting me over to his place for dinner. My knee-jerk social-phobic response was in action and I replied almost immediately—“Thanks for the invite, but I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the dinner. I have social phobia and I will definitely feel out of place there.” He replied saying it was alright and that he understood. I was relieved on one hand and was worried on the other hand whether my friend had misunderstood me.
On Tuesday, something happened to me. Something inspired me to break out of my social shackles that I had imposed on myself after traumatic social episodes like this. I sent my friend a message saying that I had reconsidered his invitation and had decided to attend his party. He expressed happiness at my change of mind and offered to host me earlier in an effort to decrease my discomfort levels being with strangers at his party. I agreed and things were all set for my first social adventure in months.
During the week, I learnt that I already knew most of the people that he had invited over to his party. One of them was a guy who I had a huge crush on a year or so back. For a change, things were looking bright. I decided to take a half-day off on Saturday to reach his apartment early and to get to know the couple well before the guests arrived.
My friend greeted me at the gate of this palatial residential complex a stone’s throw away from KEM hospital and ushered me through the sprawling complex into his apartment. On our way up to the sixth floor, I got to know that he was a flight person and had met his partner decades ago in a flight and then went out on a date during which, they would that they were neighbors. Soon they moved in together and have been partners ever since!
In the apartment, I met his wonderful partner—who I had mistakenly assumed for a firangi because of his first name was distinctly anglicized—and together we spent about an hour catching up and knowing each other. There were a few uncomfortable moments of silence here and there, mainly because I was struggling to get my rusted social skills to work in unison.
Eventually, as the guests started trickling in, I came to know more about the wonderful couple. They were freed to converse in the mode that they liked—the guests helped cull wonderful moments from their past and brought out a certain liveliness in the conversation. The older partner, who’s a ballet dancer, was a very jovial person with a unique narratorial style, especially when he described anecdotes.
Over whiskey, vodka, wine, salami, and salmon, we had a good time—at least, I did. Surprisingly enough, one of the guests was a person who I had a weird online acquaintance with. To add to the confusion, we failed to recognize each other initially because we were confused by the distorted images that Yahoo Messenger had provided us with. All in all, it was a fruitful experience—something that has reinvigorated my belief in controlled social partying and my search for a long-term relationship.
The good thing about my friend is that he seemed to be interested in me as a friend and didn’t seem to have an ulterior dark side like my other older former friend. In the few months that we had known each other over messages and SMSes, he must have invited me at least three or four times to drop by his apartment, which is quite close to KEM, and visit him and his partner. Once, I had even considered visiting him during my visit to help May out with her apartment hunt.
This Monday, I received an SMS from him. He was inviting me over to his place for dinner. My knee-jerk social-phobic response was in action and I replied almost immediately—“Thanks for the invite, but I’m sorry. I don’t think I’m going to make it to the dinner. I have social phobia and I will definitely feel out of place there.” He replied saying it was alright and that he understood. I was relieved on one hand and was worried on the other hand whether my friend had misunderstood me.
On Tuesday, something happened to me. Something inspired me to break out of my social shackles that I had imposed on myself after traumatic social episodes like this. I sent my friend a message saying that I had reconsidered his invitation and had decided to attend his party. He expressed happiness at my change of mind and offered to host me earlier in an effort to decrease my discomfort levels being with strangers at his party. I agreed and things were all set for my first social adventure in months.
During the week, I learnt that I already knew most of the people that he had invited over to his party. One of them was a guy who I had a huge crush on a year or so back. For a change, things were looking bright. I decided to take a half-day off on Saturday to reach his apartment early and to get to know the couple well before the guests arrived.
My friend greeted me at the gate of this palatial residential complex a stone’s throw away from KEM hospital and ushered me through the sprawling complex into his apartment. On our way up to the sixth floor, I got to know that he was a flight person and had met his partner decades ago in a flight and then went out on a date during which, they would that they were neighbors. Soon they moved in together and have been partners ever since!
In the apartment, I met his wonderful partner—who I had mistakenly assumed for a firangi because of his first name was distinctly anglicized—and together we spent about an hour catching up and knowing each other. There were a few uncomfortable moments of silence here and there, mainly because I was struggling to get my rusted social skills to work in unison.
Eventually, as the guests started trickling in, I came to know more about the wonderful couple. They were freed to converse in the mode that they liked—the guests helped cull wonderful moments from their past and brought out a certain liveliness in the conversation. The older partner, who’s a ballet dancer, was a very jovial person with a unique narratorial style, especially when he described anecdotes.
Over whiskey, vodka, wine, salami, and salmon, we had a good time—at least, I did. Surprisingly enough, one of the guests was a person who I had a weird online acquaintance with. To add to the confusion, we failed to recognize each other initially because we were confused by the distorted images that Yahoo Messenger had provided us with. All in all, it was a fruitful experience—something that has reinvigorated my belief in controlled social partying and my search for a long-term relationship.
Persepolis
Yesterday, after a long period of time, I finished a book. Not quite a book really - well, it was a graphic novel called Persepolis by Marjane Satrapi. It is a French-language autobiographical comic (translated to English, of course) by Marjane Satrapi depicting her childhood up to her early adult years in Iran during and after the Islamic revolution. It is an engrossing read and keeps you entertained and informed with tidbits of political commentary and humor sprinkled all over.
But the part that I related most to was the narrative about little Marjane's break-up with her high-school boyfriend Markus, who was found to have been cheating on her. I'll quote a little passage from the book which summarizes the way I felt and continually feel after my break-up with Vinokur.
I think I have gotten way too emotional with this blog post already. The take home message is, folks, read the book. Or at least watch the movie.
But the part that I related most to was the narrative about little Marjane's break-up with her high-school boyfriend Markus, who was found to have been cheating on her. I'll quote a little passage from the book which summarizes the way I felt and continually feel after my break-up with Vinokur.My breakup with Markus represented more than a simple separation. I had just lost my one emotional support, the only person who cared for me, and to who I was also wholly attached.Of course, I don't have close ties with my family and parents, nor do I have plane tickets to go back home -- I don't want to go back home, actually -- the life of Marjane resembles mine in a variety of aspects. The way she breaks down after her break-up, the way she considers herself to be a loser and goes into depression after having failed at being what her parents had hoped her to be, the way she isolated herself from her friends and family, and the way her first marriage breaks up -- all this represents what I am going through right now.
I had no family or friends; I had counted on this relationship for everything. The world had just crumbled in front of my eyes.
“Leave me alone, please!”
Everything reminded me of Markus. This bedspread, it was his birthday present to me.
This posted, he bought for me at the Picasso show at the Museum of Modern Art.
His T-shirt. Oh, his T-shirt.
Aside from him, who else was sincerely interested in me during these four years in Vienna.
Where was my mother to stroke my hair?
Where was my grandmother to tell me that lover, I would have them by the dozen?
Where was my father to punish this boy who hurt his daughter? Where?
In this room, everything evoked Markus. I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I took my bag, my passport, the plane ticket my parents had given me to visit them at Christmas, and a little money.
I think I have gotten way too emotional with this blog post already. The take home message is, folks, read the book. Or at least watch the movie.
The beauty of gay long-term relationships
In my everlasting search for a suitable man, sometimes, perhaps more frequently than I should for my own sake, I stumble on gay men who are in beautiful long-term relationships. Instead of feeling disappointed or jealous, I feel happy to have chanced upon what I consider as true, rare gems of the world -- well-adjusted relationships.
I have seen such relationships in the diverse colors and varieties that life has to offer -- inter-generational, inter-racial, inter-national, intra-generational, open relationships -- each and every one in a seemingly impossible state of equilibrium and negative entropy.
I usually end up meeting the older partner among the couple in these relationships. On almost all such occasions, I have been able to form a strong bond of friendship with them. They tell me stories about how they met their partner, sometimes decades back, how they have established a niche of a live-in relationship together, and how happy they are in their present state of affairs. Some are open relationships where the sexual drive has often died and yet the emotional component is as strong as ever.
I often wonder what is it that drives such people. If being gay is often considered synonymous to promiscuity, and ergo frivolous and incapable of relationship sustenance or emotional depth, how can such beautiful relationships exist? To answer this question, we must ask another question. Maybe I'm not digging deep enough or I'm over-generalizing -- but why are such relationships so rare in the straight world?
The reason probably lies in the disassociation of sex from being anchored to a deep-rooted emotional or procreative component, thereby freeing it to be an activity of pleasure and happiness. Remember, the institution of straight marriage has generally castigated non-procreative sex between two consenting adults. Marriage -- I must re-iterate, straight marriage -- has been promoted as a necessity for a successful social life.
Had love between any two individuals (above legal age) been encouraged instead of marriage, and had sex just been left to the discretion of two individuals who express love toward each other in a variety of durations -- some being transient like a one-night stand and some being transcendent, lasting many decades -- there would have been more instances of such harmonious relationships, don't you think?
I have seen such relationships in the diverse colors and varieties that life has to offer -- inter-generational, inter-racial, inter-national, intra-generational, open relationships -- each and every one in a seemingly impossible state of equilibrium and negative entropy.
I usually end up meeting the older partner among the couple in these relationships. On almost all such occasions, I have been able to form a strong bond of friendship with them. They tell me stories about how they met their partner, sometimes decades back, how they have established a niche of a live-in relationship together, and how happy they are in their present state of affairs. Some are open relationships where the sexual drive has often died and yet the emotional component is as strong as ever.
I often wonder what is it that drives such people. If being gay is often considered synonymous to promiscuity, and ergo frivolous and incapable of relationship sustenance or emotional depth, how can such beautiful relationships exist? To answer this question, we must ask another question. Maybe I'm not digging deep enough or I'm over-generalizing -- but why are such relationships so rare in the straight world?
The reason probably lies in the disassociation of sex from being anchored to a deep-rooted emotional or procreative component, thereby freeing it to be an activity of pleasure and happiness. Remember, the institution of straight marriage has generally castigated non-procreative sex between two consenting adults. Marriage -- I must re-iterate, straight marriage -- has been promoted as a necessity for a successful social life.
Had love between any two individuals (above legal age) been encouraged instead of marriage, and had sex just been left to the discretion of two individuals who express love toward each other in a variety of durations -- some being transient like a one-night stand and some being transcendent, lasting many decades -- there would have been more instances of such harmonious relationships, don't you think?
The look of love
This is how I look like when I have just woken up and talking to the love of my life. The diamond-shaped screen of my PDA is a tad misplaced - it should have been at my precordium overlying my heart, which gleams in happiness when I'm with Vinokur.
Love no Superman
The Café, cool breeze flew past
You too, but you were on fire
Curiosity, Looked back at the sky
Started singing with my fingers
At the town square, saving lives
Not quite, but at least a head
Wanted to jot down a story,
You showed me kryptonite
Hush hush Mary Jane,
He's from another galaxy
Of red dwarves and black holes
Slow down Mary Jane
He ain't human
Can't love without no soul
The cognac was smooth, in chalice
I was drowning, smoothly done in
Krypton calling, so far away
A few hours, at the speed of light
The galaxy had brilliant son
Black holes were rumbling, but
Waiting to devour kryptonite
Got traded in, cheaper than gravel
Hush hush Mary Jane,
He's from another galaxy
Of red dwarves and black holes
Slow down Mary Jane
He ain't human
Can't love without no soul
I felt I was flying, without a cape
Was there a world to save?
The cries, and 'why's still linger
I made a mistake, you were Superman
You too, but you were on fire
Curiosity, Looked back at the sky
Started singing with my fingers
At the town square, saving lives
Not quite, but at least a head
Wanted to jot down a story,
You showed me kryptonite
Hush hush Mary Jane,
He's from another galaxy
Of red dwarves and black holes
Slow down Mary Jane
He ain't human
Can't love without no soul
The cognac was smooth, in chalice
I was drowning, smoothly done in
Krypton calling, so far away
A few hours, at the speed of light
The galaxy had brilliant son
Black holes were rumbling, but
Waiting to devour kryptonite
Got traded in, cheaper than gravel
Hush hush Mary Jane,
He's from another galaxy
Of red dwarves and black holes
Slow down Mary Jane
He ain't human
Can't love without no soul
I felt I was flying, without a cape
Was there a world to save?
The cries, and 'why's still linger
I made a mistake, you were Superman
Man Lust
Why are men so attractive?
The cologne, the musk
The rough and tender touch
Why are men so unstoppably attractive?
The stubble, the lust
The clean and defined crust
Why are men so insatiably attractive?
The balls, the cock
The neat trimmed manly chest
Why are men so incredibly hot?
Ain't hard, ain't bad
The chemicals in you and a horny mind
The cologne, the musk
The rough and tender touch
Why are men so unstoppably attractive?
The stubble, the lust
The clean and defined crust
Why are men so insatiably attractive?
The balls, the cock
The neat trimmed manly chest
Why are men so incredibly hot?
Ain't hard, ain't bad
The chemicals in you and a horny mind
Older gay men and societal pressure
My intrinsic neuronal networking and neurochemical homeostatic mechanism predispose me to have a liking for older men, who are often 30 years elder to me. Interestingly, not once have I faced a generation gap with such men. Most men have youthful vibrant minds and an active physical life, much unlike straight corpulent middle-aged corporate men.
However, there is a wide divide between older Indian gay men and those from the 'civilized' world. Excepting a very few, Indian older gay men are usually in various degrees of closetedness and are under great pressure to act straight in their professional realms. Some are caught in straight marriages in varying degrees of stability and comfort. Despite unsuccessful marriages, some men are being forced to stay put because they love their kids and have responsibilities toward their families.
A very common and hypercritical way to look at this situation is to be disparaging of their choice to get married when they did. I have friends who have fallen in love with their wives and before getting married to them. However, the little bit of bisexuality in them has waned off and they don't have a sexual or emotional relationship with their spouse now. Some others had married because of some kind of social pressure or similar situation when they were young.
I believe that this issue needs to be looked at from the points of view of both the spouses. The men have been guilty when they chose to not be truthful to their families and wives. The women have suffered trauma and humiliation during the duration of such a relationship. Both have their points to justify their claim and deserve justice.
At this juncture, when the men have matured enough to brave the coming-out front - many have come out in different levels already - a dialogue needs to ensue. An open one that involves the people who would be directly affected - the man, his wife, their kids (if they are old enough), the family, and at times close friends/partners. In this dialogue, everyone needs to come clean and agree to agree and disagree, and take positive steps for the future. This should be done considering the best possible outcome for all those involved so that the hatchet can be truly buried and a more joyful comfortable life would result.
There will be those who feel that people/life have been unfair to them. But that can be changed - for the better. Why not, for example, agree on a truce where the 'marriage' remains as a facade for the society - to front its insulting wrath - and a meaningful understanding friendship is achieved between the family members; especially the couple and their kids. If this is achieved, everyone can find happiness in their own way taking care of the rest in the best way they can. And they should, because they care about each other more often than not.
However, there is a wide divide between older Indian gay men and those from the 'civilized' world. Excepting a very few, Indian older gay men are usually in various degrees of closetedness and are under great pressure to act straight in their professional realms. Some are caught in straight marriages in varying degrees of stability and comfort. Despite unsuccessful marriages, some men are being forced to stay put because they love their kids and have responsibilities toward their families.
A very common and hypercritical way to look at this situation is to be disparaging of their choice to get married when they did. I have friends who have fallen in love with their wives and before getting married to them. However, the little bit of bisexuality in them has waned off and they don't have a sexual or emotional relationship with their spouse now. Some others had married because of some kind of social pressure or similar situation when they were young.
I believe that this issue needs to be looked at from the points of view of both the spouses. The men have been guilty when they chose to not be truthful to their families and wives. The women have suffered trauma and humiliation during the duration of such a relationship. Both have their points to justify their claim and deserve justice.
At this juncture, when the men have matured enough to brave the coming-out front - many have come out in different levels already - a dialogue needs to ensue. An open one that involves the people who would be directly affected - the man, his wife, their kids (if they are old enough), the family, and at times close friends/partners. In this dialogue, everyone needs to come clean and agree to agree and disagree, and take positive steps for the future. This should be done considering the best possible outcome for all those involved so that the hatchet can be truly buried and a more joyful comfortable life would result.
There will be those who feel that people/life have been unfair to them. But that can be changed - for the better. Why not, for example, agree on a truce where the 'marriage' remains as a facade for the society - to front its insulting wrath - and a meaningful understanding friendship is achieved between the family members; especially the couple and their kids. If this is achieved, everyone can find happiness in their own way taking care of the rest in the best way they can. And they should, because they care about each other more often than not.
Lust in a Train
He sits across a couple of rows
A fleeting glance, it gets locked
I gaze out the window
Turn my head, I'm locked too
Perfection. The look. There is no other word
Polar opposite otherwise, I presume
Salt and pepper, looks clever
Sharp nose, trimmed black 'stache
Long fingers, three rings
Tucked out shirt, no binger
Fair and handsome
A product of the genes and not a factory
But, there is a Crimson tilak,
Probably listens to Uddhav, the shark
Has a wife, an ugly beast perhaps
And has a business that pays him in heaps
But again, conservative, religious,
And worried that I'm looking back at him
I chew the salted nuts, hoping they could be his
He shifts uncomfortably, and starts his routine prayer
Should i leave him alone?
He's too good to look at!
Is he going to come home?
He's too proud to do that!
I stare on and on, and
every thirty seconds, he catches me
Just the fleeting glance of lust
Of what he lost out on
Because society forced it on him
Society overcame him then
It does now too
The seat vacated next forces him
To readjust himself significantly
So that our eyes won't meet anymore
I start typing this
I get busy at this
Five minutes on, I look up
He's still staring at me
He wants me, but he can't
I want him, but I won't
He dozes away at Bandra
His head bounces up and down
I wish, oh how I wish, I were the reason
And not the train and the gaps in the tracks
And then a crowd blocks my vision
Hell, I won't mind pulling a Kasab, to get my view back
And then I see him staring at me
Eyes locked, not wavering
Had he decided that Sena is sin?
And sodomy is in?
I feel the stirring, a bit of hope
The train will be near empty, it's Dadar
It's my stop but I'm lost in him
And I don't feel sorry
Not for me, but only for him
I feel happy that I made a Sainik
Regain his conscience
Perhaps it's not much
But it's a start, or a semblance
A fleeting glance, it gets locked
I gaze out the window
Turn my head, I'm locked too
Perfection. The look. There is no other word
Polar opposite otherwise, I presume
Salt and pepper, looks clever
Sharp nose, trimmed black 'stache
Long fingers, three rings
Tucked out shirt, no binger
Fair and handsome
A product of the genes and not a factory
But, there is a Crimson tilak,
Probably listens to Uddhav, the shark
Has a wife, an ugly beast perhaps
And has a business that pays him in heaps
But again, conservative, religious,
And worried that I'm looking back at him
I chew the salted nuts, hoping they could be his
He shifts uncomfortably, and starts his routine prayer
Should i leave him alone?
He's too good to look at!
Is he going to come home?
He's too proud to do that!
I stare on and on, and
every thirty seconds, he catches me
Just the fleeting glance of lust
Of what he lost out on
Because society forced it on him
Society overcame him then
It does now too
The seat vacated next forces him
To readjust himself significantly
So that our eyes won't meet anymore
I start typing this
I get busy at this
Five minutes on, I look up
He's still staring at me
He wants me, but he can't
I want him, but I won't
He dozes away at Bandra
His head bounces up and down
I wish, oh how I wish, I were the reason
And not the train and the gaps in the tracks
And then a crowd blocks my vision
Hell, I won't mind pulling a Kasab, to get my view back
And then I see him staring at me
Eyes locked, not wavering
Had he decided that Sena is sin?
And sodomy is in?
I feel the stirring, a bit of hope
The train will be near empty, it's Dadar
It's my stop but I'm lost in him
And I don't feel sorry
Not for me, but only for him
I feel happy that I made a Sainik
Regain his conscience
Perhaps it's not much
But it's a start, or a semblance
Long-distance cross pollination
What's the most important quality that I have? Not a difficult question for me - the ability to make people laugh/smile/feel good about themselves. Vinokur has helped me hone my skills in this department. Humor comes naturally to him too. His brand of humor, which revolves around the skill to surprise people with audacity and innuendos, has seemingly seeped into me as well!
Not just humor - almost the entire psyche, including the positives and negatives, (positives way way more, of course) and negatives, appears to have somehow been injected into me. We think alike, we love alike, we fear alike, and we analyze alike. We complete each others sentences, know each others triggers, are aware of each others sensitivities, and can see and feel the other's mind. Our common friends say that we 'sound' alike in the way we present our thoughts - I guess lexicon transfer is also involved.
I wonder if such 'psychic' transference commonly occurs in intimate emotional relationships. If yes, is it good enough to be seeking - and if not, is this craziness?
For those unaware, such similarities have grown despite a tumultuous long-distance relationship! I wonder what would have happened had I and Vinokur been living together? Would the similarities have been even more evident? Would our omeletees taste the same? Or would we have had lesser cross-pollination of ideation and behavior?
Not just humor - almost the entire psyche, including the positives and negatives, (positives way way more, of course) and negatives, appears to have somehow been injected into me. We think alike, we love alike, we fear alike, and we analyze alike. We complete each others sentences, know each others triggers, are aware of each others sensitivities, and can see and feel the other's mind. Our common friends say that we 'sound' alike in the way we present our thoughts - I guess lexicon transfer is also involved.
I wonder if such 'psychic' transference commonly occurs in intimate emotional relationships. If yes, is it good enough to be seeking - and if not, is this craziness?
For those unaware, such similarities have grown despite a tumultuous long-distance relationship! I wonder what would have happened had I and Vinokur been living together? Would the similarities have been even more evident? Would our omeletees taste the same? Or would we have had lesser cross-pollination of ideation and behavior?
QOL
I always wonder an acceptable quality of life (QOL) is? Is it intimately related to lifestyle and comfort? Are both the same?
In the last two years of my life as a struggling bachelor/artist, I have passed through the 'virtual' worst possible scenarios. Hunger, poverty, infestations, debt, depression, separation, and a helluva lot more. All through this period, I have seen and sampled many a level of 'living' - almost all of them being socially superior to mine. Most of these instances made me feel insecure, and apart from occasional fugues of mania and appreciable amounts of alcohol in blood, nothing has helped me much from feeling miserable.
Then came the real shit - depression. And even further down the lane came therapy.
Now my perspective has changed. The long and short, the broad and narrow, the deep and superficial, have all ceased to be a ghastly blur. I have started to think rationally and perhaps have started planning - maybe not to the extent that would be considered prudent at my age. I have goals to aim at and landmarks to achieve.
For example - renting a decent one BHK (one bedroom, hall, kitchen apartment - for you non-Indians), occasional partying, a few movies, a relaxed time during weekends, progress in music and editing, holistic improvement, avoidance of wasting time, occasional indulgence, a complete (albeit cheap) wardrobe, vacation, solitude, quietness, enjoying art... The list could go on and on.
Two questions remain:
1. Is this what quality of life means to all of you? I pose this question to my readers.
2. What has changed?
Is it my graduation? Is it the thrilling experience at my job (it's been about a year since I started working)? Reaching the over-hyped landmark of 30 years of age? Therapy for depression? The gradual but progressive weaning from being an eternal optimist/die-hard romantic? Completion of a circle of life? The bitterness of fate? The irony of existence? Love?
In the last two years of my life as a struggling bachelor/artist, I have passed through the 'virtual' worst possible scenarios. Hunger, poverty, infestations, debt, depression, separation, and a helluva lot more. All through this period, I have seen and sampled many a level of 'living' - almost all of them being socially superior to mine. Most of these instances made me feel insecure, and apart from occasional fugues of mania and appreciable amounts of alcohol in blood, nothing has helped me much from feeling miserable.
Then came the real shit - depression. And even further down the lane came therapy.
Now my perspective has changed. The long and short, the broad and narrow, the deep and superficial, have all ceased to be a ghastly blur. I have started to think rationally and perhaps have started planning - maybe not to the extent that would be considered prudent at my age. I have goals to aim at and landmarks to achieve.
For example - renting a decent one BHK (one bedroom, hall, kitchen apartment - for you non-Indians), occasional partying, a few movies, a relaxed time during weekends, progress in music and editing, holistic improvement, avoidance of wasting time, occasional indulgence, a complete (albeit cheap) wardrobe, vacation, solitude, quietness, enjoying art... The list could go on and on.
Two questions remain:
1. Is this what quality of life means to all of you? I pose this question to my readers.
2. What has changed?
Is it my graduation? Is it the thrilling experience at my job (it's been about a year since I started working)? Reaching the over-hyped landmark of 30 years of age? Therapy for depression? The gradual but progressive weaning from being an eternal optimist/die-hard romantic? Completion of a circle of life? The bitterness of fate? The irony of existence? Love?
Social outcasts?
'I hate you'. That's a thousand whiplashes. Let's go a couple of notches down. 'I don't like you.' Sounds much less intense; more like a dozen spanks on your shin. What about something else? Incommunicado?
I'll explain a bit more. You are in touch with a person of interest on a personals site. You exchange pictures and preliminary data with that person. Both seem to be attracted and attractive to each other. You are entering the next phase; the phase when you really want to make sure that the person who you are communicating with must not be kept unaware of a certain important fact in your life. You prefer being honest and are hoping to avoid unnecessary entanglement from both sides.
After you finish talking about the issue, you tend to expect a response. Maybe an ounce of sympathy or a little bit of understanding. You half-expect that person to say 'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm afraid I wouldn't want to carry on. Let's say goodbye. I wish you the best in the life ahead.' That's a bit too much you feel? From the average sex-monger perhaps? The only problem is that we aren't talking about such people. These are refined, educated ones with a touch of dignity somewhere on their profile.
So why are people so mean and inconsiderate? It seems strange to me. I wouldn't do this at all. I didn't do this actually. I, in fact, went on to commit to sharing the rest of my life with this person. I'm talking about Vinokur of course. He's just a voice for the millions of people who have some chronic-illnesses (in his case Hepatitis C) who also happen to be human beings. They too, like the more privileged 'clean' ones, require and desire love, companionship and courting. Aren't we going to evolve at all? Ever?
I'll explain a bit more. You are in touch with a person of interest on a personals site. You exchange pictures and preliminary data with that person. Both seem to be attracted and attractive to each other. You are entering the next phase; the phase when you really want to make sure that the person who you are communicating with must not be kept unaware of a certain important fact in your life. You prefer being honest and are hoping to avoid unnecessary entanglement from both sides.
After you finish talking about the issue, you tend to expect a response. Maybe an ounce of sympathy or a little bit of understanding. You half-expect that person to say 'Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. I'm afraid I wouldn't want to carry on. Let's say goodbye. I wish you the best in the life ahead.' That's a bit too much you feel? From the average sex-monger perhaps? The only problem is that we aren't talking about such people. These are refined, educated ones with a touch of dignity somewhere on their profile.
So why are people so mean and inconsiderate? It seems strange to me. I wouldn't do this at all. I didn't do this actually. I, in fact, went on to commit to sharing the rest of my life with this person. I'm talking about Vinokur of course. He's just a voice for the millions of people who have some chronic-illnesses (in his case Hepatitis C) who also happen to be human beings. They too, like the more privileged 'clean' ones, require and desire love, companionship and courting. Aren't we going to evolve at all? Ever?
A tryst with art in Mumbai - Part 1
I have been here in Mumbai for over three and a half years. That's how long it took for me do anything related to conventional art and culture. The first whiff of this wonderful world came to me during the first few months of my relationship with Vinokur when he used to tell me how wonderful it was to go to museums and art galleries in the Big Apple. We had our wonderful plan about injecting the brown Indian boy with a dose of art, at Mumbai to start with, when we would start living together for the first time. That didn't exactly workout that way as most real-life stories don't. But the desire kept nagging me on. I had decided during the months that I studied for the exams that I would start diving into the wonderful pool of art and culture that Mumbai had to offer.
The first instance came three weeks back when I attended the screening of a documentary film about Narendra Modi and his evil masterplan to remain in power. This movie, which was banned for public screening, is about how the BhaJPa had cooked up mock assassination attempts at Modi and arrested and killed innocent people in Gujrat, their only fault that they were Muslim. I could distinctly feel the amount of culture and intelligence disseminated in the audience which was evident in the little Q&A section after the screening. I'd be lying if I didn't confess that apart from all the culture, there were really attractive older men aplenty there. People with beards, aquiline noses dressed in graceful kurthas and talking about art - the Indian version of a talking Vinokur-blow-up doll!
The first time that I met Mr. Bach was at the Jehangir art gallery. He is the epitome of the filthy-rich south-mumbaiite who hate the suburbs and love their art. He took me in for a demo tour and ended up buying a sculpture of the bust of a handsome man with a long face and a long, but shapely, nose. He still denies any hints of narcissism in this purchase and such claims have been rendered baseless by the sculptor himself (at the gallery) and a couple of his friends and cousins who seemed to have the intelligence to grasp. We had carried on to another huge private gallery where he had purchased three pieces of a piece of modern art on the mythology of the Eklavya's thumb story - one for his own house here and two for his wealthy friends living in the Snakes.
Experiencing the various pieces of art hung up on walls of his fantastic house(s) in town was a de ja vu experience - two of the three men that I had dated prior to Mr. Bach had their share of art on display. One had Picasso replicas and others at his home and the other is a painter and sculptor who showed me his original work over whisky and soda on a wonderful evening that we spent together. It is quit evident that my sensibilities seem to home in on men with something or the other to do with arts, thanks to my mentor, my best friend and my ex-lover - the one and only Vinokur.
The first instance came three weeks back when I attended the screening of a documentary film about Narendra Modi and his evil masterplan to remain in power. This movie, which was banned for public screening, is about how the BhaJPa had cooked up mock assassination attempts at Modi and arrested and killed innocent people in Gujrat, their only fault that they were Muslim. I could distinctly feel the amount of culture and intelligence disseminated in the audience which was evident in the little Q&A section after the screening. I'd be lying if I didn't confess that apart from all the culture, there were really attractive older men aplenty there. People with beards, aquiline noses dressed in graceful kurthas and talking about art - the Indian version of a talking Vinokur-blow-up doll!
The first time that I met Mr. Bach was at the Jehangir art gallery. He is the epitome of the filthy-rich south-mumbaiite who hate the suburbs and love their art. He took me in for a demo tour and ended up buying a sculpture of the bust of a handsome man with a long face and a long, but shapely, nose. He still denies any hints of narcissism in this purchase and such claims have been rendered baseless by the sculptor himself (at the gallery) and a couple of his friends and cousins who seemed to have the intelligence to grasp. We had carried on to another huge private gallery where he had purchased three pieces of a piece of modern art on the mythology of the Eklavya's thumb story - one for his own house here and two for his wealthy friends living in the Snakes.
Experiencing the various pieces of art hung up on walls of his fantastic house(s) in town was a de ja vu experience - two of the three men that I had dated prior to Mr. Bach had their share of art on display. One had Picasso replicas and others at his home and the other is a painter and sculptor who showed me his original work over whisky and soda on a wonderful evening that we spent together. It is quit evident that my sensibilities seem to home in on men with something or the other to do with arts, thanks to my mentor, my best friend and my ex-lover - the one and only Vinokur.
Coming out to my Father
Once I came out to Mom, I had felt that much more than half of my responsibilities during my trip especially because she had offered to come out to my father on my behalf. Today morning, I had woken up late and had a lazy breakfast with my Mom while my Dad got busy doing some of the chores that he does. Soon enough, as if set up on purpose, we started talking. This time, it was not in my room and it was in the lo-o-ng, but narrow, living room downstairs.
I paced down and up the living room while voicing my thoughts about my future and theirs, about my feelings about them and my sister etc. Soon enough, the moment arrived when I asked my Dad if he had understood that I had wanted to talk to him yesterday evening itself. I explained that I felt that I had to tell both of them at the same time but that I had told Mom already.
I went on to explain to him the same way like I did with my Mom – about how I wanted to have someone in my life, how I wanted to actually have a family and kids etc, but how it could only be with a man and not a woman. My father was able to grasp my words much faster and he glanced over to my Mom and gave me a smile – something that I hadn't seen from him for a long time!
Once this was over and done with, I explained my planned strategies for my life more vividly – my father was still apprehensive about my decision to chase music. He's not a romantic, he's much more pragmatic. Now that I had revealed who I was, it was so much easier to convince them about my plans to stick on to the plan of music ahead of medicine until the year ends.
We went to on to discuss about our families and our sister – about her fears about my coming out affecting her life. It is sad and I'm sorry to admit that my sister still believes, and has every reason to believe, that her life is going to get affected in a bad way if more people would come to know about me. It's the reality of life in India. The sexual orientation of sibling could break (and never make) one's life.
I still remember the day when I had gone to 'interview' my then-could-be-brother-in-law, being apprehensive about telling him about my gayness thinking that it could affect my sister adversely. He had then asked me something in the lines of 'What about you? Don't you want to get married?' and I had to say something in the lines of 'I'm not sure about that yet. I need more time and I need to find the right person.'
I guess my fears have been validated, in a wretched way, by the realities in my sister's life. This has, hitherto, revealed the 'underbelly' of the coming out experience in modern India. I guess every feel-good movie story is actually the real story with a cut-throat, cliched editing process. But then I don't think that I, the director, want to show my film to Indian audiences – I just want it to be screened at the prestigious European festivals. The romantic me is sometimes - okay, I'm lying - most of the times, unaware of the reality, waiting to be stung by it.
I paced down and up the living room while voicing my thoughts about my future and theirs, about my feelings about them and my sister etc. Soon enough, the moment arrived when I asked my Dad if he had understood that I had wanted to talk to him yesterday evening itself. I explained that I felt that I had to tell both of them at the same time but that I had told Mom already.
I went on to explain to him the same way like I did with my Mom – about how I wanted to have someone in my life, how I wanted to actually have a family and kids etc, but how it could only be with a man and not a woman. My father was able to grasp my words much faster and he glanced over to my Mom and gave me a smile – something that I hadn't seen from him for a long time!
Once this was over and done with, I explained my planned strategies for my life more vividly – my father was still apprehensive about my decision to chase music. He's not a romantic, he's much more pragmatic. Now that I had revealed who I was, it was so much easier to convince them about my plans to stick on to the plan of music ahead of medicine until the year ends.
We went to on to discuss about our families and our sister – about her fears about my coming out affecting her life. It is sad and I'm sorry to admit that my sister still believes, and has every reason to believe, that her life is going to get affected in a bad way if more people would come to know about me. It's the reality of life in India. The sexual orientation of sibling could break (and never make) one's life.
I still remember the day when I had gone to 'interview' my then-could-be-brother-in-law, being apprehensive about telling him about my gayness thinking that it could affect my sister adversely. He had then asked me something in the lines of 'What about you? Don't you want to get married?' and I had to say something in the lines of 'I'm not sure about that yet. I need more time and I need to find the right person.'
I guess my fears have been validated, in a wretched way, by the realities in my sister's life. This has, hitherto, revealed the 'underbelly' of the coming out experience in modern India. I guess every feel-good movie story is actually the real story with a cut-throat, cliched editing process. But then I don't think that I, the director, want to show my film to Indian audiences – I just want it to be screened at the prestigious European festivals. The romantic me is sometimes - okay, I'm lying - most of the times, unaware of the reality, waiting to be stung by it.
Coming out to my Mom
What exactly transpired between me and Mom during the coming out process? Here's the report.
After my tiring 2 day trip in a bus from Mumbai to Thiruvananthapuram, I was able to keep my spirits up high when I met my Mom and Dad at their new house. We didn't hug and exchange wishes in a westernized ceremony. I just started talking to my Mom and Dad. My Dad was doing 'pooja' and was running late for a religious engagement (he's on the team from the temple for chanting and all that) and couldn't really participate in the exchanges too much. I was disappointed with that. But I bonded really well with my Mom and we carried on our conversation after Dad had left home after having breakfast. I helped her with her tiring daily chores in the kitchen and we talked and got to know about each other much better than ever before while cooking that day's lunch.
By the time the chores were over, I and Mom had connected at a very deep level talking about life, our problems and the ways to solve them. I felt this was the moment to come out to her. But I had decided on the advice from many people (inlcuding Mr. Bach and other friends) that it was better to come out to both parents at the same time. Because I had to catch Uncle N. (the only person in my family who I had come out other than my sister) and his daughter before she left to give her exams, I couldn't do it in the afternoon. I had a long conversation on deciding the strategy to come out with Uncle N. He suggested that I talk to them in the evening without involving him in the issue. The reason that he stated was that in the event of my parents reacting abnormally, he could be there to give them solace; I'd have to leave anyway after 4 days.
That seemed perfectly fine to me. He dropped me back home and promised that he'd help my parents get in a talking frame of mind before he left for the evening. To our dismay, there were a couple of relatives in the house when we got there. And they weren't going anywhere in a hurry. Uncle N. hung around for a few minutes and by the time he was leaving, my Dad suggested that he's going out to the classical music concert that was on in the evening. I tried to ask him to stay back so that we could 'talk' but he didn't get the hint. I felt rather disappointed and sorry and it was quite evident to me and Uncle N. My Mom on the other hand, got the lead and opted to stay back and 'talk' to me.
In an hour or so, my relatives were leaving and finally I had a window of time where I could come out to at least my Mom. I asked my Mom if she could help me unpack in my room upstairs. She visibly had the intuition that I have been wanting to talk to her and agreed. We went upstairs and in a few minutes we were in a good conversation. Somewhere along, we stumbled on the issue of marriage. I grabbed this opportunity and asked her if she was wondering why I was refusing a marriage. She replied saying that she knew that I had come to tell her something. Voila!
I asked her if she had suspected anything about me. She said no. I told her that unlike the impression that my folks seemed to have, I wanted to find a partner as fast as possible and have a family. But, I carried on, she needed to know something about me, something which was going to be something very heavy and perhaps unexpected, something that she might be hurt by, something that would cause her to react in an abnormal way. But I assured her that I loved her. Then I told her 'I like men, Mom. I can't think of a physical or an emotional relationship with a woman. Instead, I have an emotional and physical attraction towards men. This is not an abnormality, or a disease. It's just natural and about 10% of the society are like this at any moment, both men and women. Such people are called gay.'
At first she seemed to be confused and she needed me to repeat a line here and there. But slowly she was realizing and she started smiling. I was so happy! She asked me why I hadn't told her any sooner. I explained to her how I and my sister had decided to let them not know the news until it was necessary, thus trying to not hurt her. She said that it was unnecessary and I should have told her as soon as I could. She also said that she can accept her son for who he was and will support him no matter what happens. I went on to tell her how it had evolved in my childhood, how I was attracted to my teachers in school and professors in college. Oh, I also told her that I was naturally attracted to men much older than my age. I showed her the pictures of Vinokur and Mr. Bach (both were on my camera).
Soon, the conversation got more personal as she got out of her initial surprise and I started asking her if she had suspected it. She said she hadn't. I asked her if she remember seeing pictures of naked men on my computer some time in the late 90s. She said she did but she hadn't correlated the two. Then I gave her the bounty – I asked her if she rememberd us watching Baywatch for the same reason – David Hasselhoff. That sure gave her the explanations she wanted. Her smiled grew broader and she realized how her likes and mine, at least in men, matched. We talked on for a few more minutes until it was time for dinner. On her way down the steps, she told me 'I'll talk to your father.' I said 'No Mom. It's my responsibility. You can help me when I do it.' She smiled at me and walked down the staircase.
After my tiring 2 day trip in a bus from Mumbai to Thiruvananthapuram, I was able to keep my spirits up high when I met my Mom and Dad at their new house. We didn't hug and exchange wishes in a westernized ceremony. I just started talking to my Mom and Dad. My Dad was doing 'pooja' and was running late for a religious engagement (he's on the team from the temple for chanting and all that) and couldn't really participate in the exchanges too much. I was disappointed with that. But I bonded really well with my Mom and we carried on our conversation after Dad had left home after having breakfast. I helped her with her tiring daily chores in the kitchen and we talked and got to know about each other much better than ever before while cooking that day's lunch.
By the time the chores were over, I and Mom had connected at a very deep level talking about life, our problems and the ways to solve them. I felt this was the moment to come out to her. But I had decided on the advice from many people (inlcuding Mr. Bach and other friends) that it was better to come out to both parents at the same time. Because I had to catch Uncle N. (the only person in my family who I had come out other than my sister) and his daughter before she left to give her exams, I couldn't do it in the afternoon. I had a long conversation on deciding the strategy to come out with Uncle N. He suggested that I talk to them in the evening without involving him in the issue. The reason that he stated was that in the event of my parents reacting abnormally, he could be there to give them solace; I'd have to leave anyway after 4 days.
That seemed perfectly fine to me. He dropped me back home and promised that he'd help my parents get in a talking frame of mind before he left for the evening. To our dismay, there were a couple of relatives in the house when we got there. And they weren't going anywhere in a hurry. Uncle N. hung around for a few minutes and by the time he was leaving, my Dad suggested that he's going out to the classical music concert that was on in the evening. I tried to ask him to stay back so that we could 'talk' but he didn't get the hint. I felt rather disappointed and sorry and it was quite evident to me and Uncle N. My Mom on the other hand, got the lead and opted to stay back and 'talk' to me.
In an hour or so, my relatives were leaving and finally I had a window of time where I could come out to at least my Mom. I asked my Mom if she could help me unpack in my room upstairs. She visibly had the intuition that I have been wanting to talk to her and agreed. We went upstairs and in a few minutes we were in a good conversation. Somewhere along, we stumbled on the issue of marriage. I grabbed this opportunity and asked her if she was wondering why I was refusing a marriage. She replied saying that she knew that I had come to tell her something. Voila!
I asked her if she had suspected anything about me. She said no. I told her that unlike the impression that my folks seemed to have, I wanted to find a partner as fast as possible and have a family. But, I carried on, she needed to know something about me, something which was going to be something very heavy and perhaps unexpected, something that she might be hurt by, something that would cause her to react in an abnormal way. But I assured her that I loved her. Then I told her 'I like men, Mom. I can't think of a physical or an emotional relationship with a woman. Instead, I have an emotional and physical attraction towards men. This is not an abnormality, or a disease. It's just natural and about 10% of the society are like this at any moment, both men and women. Such people are called gay.'
At first she seemed to be confused and she needed me to repeat a line here and there. But slowly she was realizing and she started smiling. I was so happy! She asked me why I hadn't told her any sooner. I explained to her how I and my sister had decided to let them not know the news until it was necessary, thus trying to not hurt her. She said that it was unnecessary and I should have told her as soon as I could. She also said that she can accept her son for who he was and will support him no matter what happens. I went on to tell her how it had evolved in my childhood, how I was attracted to my teachers in school and professors in college. Oh, I also told her that I was naturally attracted to men much older than my age. I showed her the pictures of Vinokur and Mr. Bach (both were on my camera).
Soon, the conversation got more personal as she got out of her initial surprise and I started asking her if she had suspected it. She said she hadn't. I asked her if she remember seeing pictures of naked men on my computer some time in the late 90s. She said she did but she hadn't correlated the two. Then I gave her the bounty – I asked her if she rememberd us watching Baywatch for the same reason – David Hasselhoff. That sure gave her the explanations she wanted. Her smiled grew broader and she realized how her likes and mine, at least in men, matched. We talked on for a few more minutes until it was time for dinner. On her way down the steps, she told me 'I'll talk to your father.' I said 'No Mom. It's my responsibility. You can help me when I do it.' She smiled at me and walked down the staircase.
'Kris & Vinokur' Version 2.0 - friendship
People must be wondering what really happened. One day I was happily in love in a long term relationship with Vinokur and the next day, I had broken up with him. I thought I had already given a sufficiently long explanation after a brief period of readjustment in my post titled '12 days of Christmas'. Since then, after a week or so of not being in touch, I have restarted communications with Vinokur.
It is pleasing to announce that, as always, we are being very mature and kind to each other and have slipped into the new role of being good friends of each other. We aren't lovers any more; ex-lovers would be an apt term but you have to factor out the kind of uneasiness that you would expect for such people. After all, we can't hurt each other and we care for each other as we have always done. Just that we will be seeking out new lovers. That's all.
The reason why it has happened is because of probably my need for a physical relationship. After the exams got over, I started exchanging messages with men in various personals sites, of course after informing Vinokur. The motive was to hope to find people who I could have a physical relationship with. Being very needy, I have this tendency to get attracted to people easily. Such attractions have varied from infatuation to the onset of full-fledged love.
Of course, since I have been entirely honest with Vinokur, he got insecure and hurt due to such occurences. This made me realize that I'm seeking something here in Mumbai which would only harm Vinokur even more if I decided to continue the relationship. We had a thorough discussion about the situation and we ended up deciding that the best thing that we could do is to end our relationship and hope that we find people who could sort of fill into each others shoes.
Obviously, to just end 'loving' someone who you have loved so much until the moment you choose to, is impossible. To make it more practicable, we resorted to no-communications for a week or so. We were more worried about the other during this period, as we found out once we restarted communicating. One of my dear blog friends helped us keep in touch vicariously (Thank you!). Once I was sure that we were okay with letting each other back into our lives as friends, we did it.
Now, we still chat for an hour or two each day talking about what happened, re-affirming that it was the best decision to have been made and helping each other to get used to the dangers of seeking 'love'. The world is cruel, especially to older men who have afflictions to contend with. Talking helps, believe me. It helps us to maintain our self-esteem high during a phase which is infamous for the lack of the same.
It is pleasing to announce that, as always, we are being very mature and kind to each other and have slipped into the new role of being good friends of each other. We aren't lovers any more; ex-lovers would be an apt term but you have to factor out the kind of uneasiness that you would expect for such people. After all, we can't hurt each other and we care for each other as we have always done. Just that we will be seeking out new lovers. That's all.
The reason why it has happened is because of probably my need for a physical relationship. After the exams got over, I started exchanging messages with men in various personals sites, of course after informing Vinokur. The motive was to hope to find people who I could have a physical relationship with. Being very needy, I have this tendency to get attracted to people easily. Such attractions have varied from infatuation to the onset of full-fledged love.
Of course, since I have been entirely honest with Vinokur, he got insecure and hurt due to such occurences. This made me realize that I'm seeking something here in Mumbai which would only harm Vinokur even more if I decided to continue the relationship. We had a thorough discussion about the situation and we ended up deciding that the best thing that we could do is to end our relationship and hope that we find people who could sort of fill into each others shoes.
Obviously, to just end 'loving' someone who you have loved so much until the moment you choose to, is impossible. To make it more practicable, we resorted to no-communications for a week or so. We were more worried about the other during this period, as we found out once we restarted communicating. One of my dear blog friends helped us keep in touch vicariously (Thank you!). Once I was sure that we were okay with letting each other back into our lives as friends, we did it.
Now, we still chat for an hour or two each day talking about what happened, re-affirming that it was the best decision to have been made and helping each other to get used to the dangers of seeking 'love'. The world is cruel, especially to older men who have afflictions to contend with. Talking helps, believe me. It helps us to maintain our self-esteem high during a phase which is infamous for the lack of the same.
Boxing day
I got up very early today; at 3.30 AM. I don't exactly know why. I guess I felt vacant. Soon, I was chatting to my lawyer friend (Mac) from down under. I recorded the couple of pieces of music that I had running in my mind yesterday night. During this process, I and Mac had an interesting discussion about how to make one of the progressions that I had recorded better. It's fun to discuss such issues with someone who is knowledgeable about music.
I had the final interview scheduled in the morning but that was postponed to tomorrow. I dozed for an hour or so after I got this news. In the afternoon, I went out to shop - determined to cook something. Despite the fact that my refrigerator was not working properly, I decided to buy a few essential vegetable items so that I can make simple stuff. I came back home and made some rice and heated up a Dal fry preparation that I picked up from the supermarket. It was a wholesome meal.
The afternoon went with me discussing more legal issues with Mac. We were about to commit one legal blunder. Thanks to Mac, that seems to have been avoided. Right at the time when I was getting to the shower to get fresh before the classical guitar recital that I was planning to attend, I got the information that we had a gig at Not Just Jazz by the Bay tomorrow night! That was a pleasant surprise mainly because the money which was due for playing a Saturday night gig.
Because of the same reason, I was unable to hang out with the sculptor and one of his friends in the night (we were supposed to go out on a date and sleep with each other etc.). Instead, after a quick drink of whisky, I came back home to practice with Shoonyas. The practice went okay. But soon enough, I suddenly started missing Vinokur once again. It's really a pain to know that he's just one click away. But I'm not logging on Skype. I feel it's too early to start talking to each other.
Instead, I'll try to sleep - hoping that tomorrow's gig will keep be occupied until late night.
I had the final interview scheduled in the morning but that was postponed to tomorrow. I dozed for an hour or so after I got this news. In the afternoon, I went out to shop - determined to cook something. Despite the fact that my refrigerator was not working properly, I decided to buy a few essential vegetable items so that I can make simple stuff. I came back home and made some rice and heated up a Dal fry preparation that I picked up from the supermarket. It was a wholesome meal.
The afternoon went with me discussing more legal issues with Mac. We were about to commit one legal blunder. Thanks to Mac, that seems to have been avoided. Right at the time when I was getting to the shower to get fresh before the classical guitar recital that I was planning to attend, I got the information that we had a gig at Not Just Jazz by the Bay tomorrow night! That was a pleasant surprise mainly because the money which was due for playing a Saturday night gig.
Because of the same reason, I was unable to hang out with the sculptor and one of his friends in the night (we were supposed to go out on a date and sleep with each other etc.). Instead, after a quick drink of whisky, I came back home to practice with Shoonyas. The practice went okay. But soon enough, I suddenly started missing Vinokur once again. It's really a pain to know that he's just one click away. But I'm not logging on Skype. I feel it's too early to start talking to each other.
Instead, I'll try to sleep - hoping that tomorrow's gig will keep be occupied until late night.
The 12 days of Christmas
I just watched this Indian version of the 12 days of Christmas on You Tube. It was very funny but, it didn't make me laugh all that much. Nothing would, I guess after what transpired in the last few days in my life. When I fell in and out love and relationships, when I finally broke-up with Vinokur. I'm happy and sad at the same time and have been keeping away from this rather public blog so as to get some more time to get used to the enormity of the changes in my life. I guess I have come far enough to blog about it. So, here's MY 12 days* of Christmas.
- Sunday, Dec 14: The guitar class went great. I felt confident while imparting the knowledge that I had. So, too did the jam session with Noise Market. We are in the new-song-writing mode. One of the guys that I found out of the personals sites meets up with me at the Humsafar high and we go on to have a wonderful conversation and then sex. Felt wonderful having sex after a long time!
- Monday, Dec 15: The legal consultations and the band managment is taking a lot of time out of my schedule. One of my new-friends is a lawyer from Australia and we are hitting off big time on the interent - he's literary, articulate, funny and an amazing racounteur. Despite the fact that Shoonyas have two live shows coming up this week, we aren't practicing all that much.
- Tuesday, Dec 16: Ever since I have chosen to use the openness of the relationship that I and Vinokur were having, I have been getting a lot of responses from the personals sites. A few of these men seem to be very interesting. One especially so - A Gujju guy with flim-star (older) looks who wants a relationship is trying to get to me. He changed his ring-tone to a romantic one just for me!
- Wednesday, Dec 17: I go for my first ever job interview - as a content editor at KPO which deals with medical research. I gave the test and am sure that they will call me up for an interview soon. Shoonyas has a very lukewarm gig a Not Just Jazz by the Bay. The crowd has been on the downside after the terror attacks. Although I and Rob battled throat infections, we had fun. (For those interested, check out Facebook/Orkut to see pics).
- Thursday, Dec 18: Shoonyas played at the Ruia Colleg for a Peace concert in commemmoration of the victims of the terror attack. We were interviewed on IBN Lokmat TV channel and our shows were broadcast a couple of days later. It was a awe-inspiring experience. 300 odd Ruia-ites lighting candles when the night was still young. They sang in chorus! My best gig ever!
- Friday, Dec 19: Another day passes by managing the legal wrangles for Noise Market. We are getting closer and closer to the finalisation the addendum to the contract. I have fun at the Birthday party of a GB friend (again, pics on Facebook) by playing guitar and jamming with the crowd. It's amazing that the gang of 'straight' friends from my friend's office were more fun than their fag counterparts. I also meet this wonderful lady at the party who sang like a professional! Incredible experience!
- Saturday, Dec 20: My interview with the KPO goes well. They seem to be a little bothered about the fact that my gigs/concerts might call for more leaves/offs. I meet this Gujju guy and have a wondeful time with him. We have lunch at a hotel and then go for shopping for a set of Kurtha Pajama - I have to attend a wedding reception in the evening - the wedding of a family friend's son. After the shopping, we head of to the Gujju guys apartment make passionate love. To my utmost amazement, he offers to be with me for the wedding reception in the evening. We have the most amazing time in bed after that. I feel dizzy when I'm coming home - is this a future prospect for a relationship? Vinokur has already started feeling the discomfort. I know how it must hurt - but I still confide in him and keep the honesty intact.
- Sunday, Dec 21: I have a busy day with Noise Market pratice and my student. Once I got free, my destination - the Gujju guy. I go over to his place and we talk - we talk for hours. We know we are falling in love with each other - but we can't. The gujju guy makes the most wonderful tasting meal for me and feeds me in a most romantic setting. By midnight, I start feeling that maybe I need to take the decision that I have been holding off from taking all this time - breaking up with Vinokur. The gujju guy says goodbye and says that we won't meet until I'm 'free'. I come home and talk it out with Vinokur. I feel that I'm the most wretched person on the surface of the planet but I manage to say what I said. We decide to call our wonderful relationships quits. It was darn hard, but we do it. Vinokur assures me that he'll be there for me if I need him. I feel relieved, I feel anxious.
- Monday, Dec 22: I talk to Gujju guy about this and he freaks out. He says that he has thought it over and we can't be seeing each other any more - he cites some 'incompatibilities' in personalities as the reason. I feel that I am losing out on another relationship because of my 'near-virtual' relationship. He wants me to patch up with Vinokur and forget about him. I talk to Vinokur about it who seems to be happy to have me back but indicates clearly how humiliated he felt when he was 'dumped' for another person in so little time. We think it over, talk it over. It seesm obvious - our relationship can't go on like this. I will be seeing other people, getting attracted to them and maybe falling in love. If we are still 'lovers', then things are bound to be complicated. Hence, we decide to call it quits once an for all. The wonderful 1 and half year relationship - the most wonderful time in my life comes to an end - I and Vinokur aren't lovers anymore. We won't keep in touch at least until we get readjusted to reality. It hurts, more than you can imagine. But I'm glad we took this decision.
- Tuesday, Dec 23: I am feeling odd but music seems to distract me. I try to get back to the Gujju guy who's hurt that I'm trying to force him to reconsider. He pleads with me to stop. But I'm worried about him because he's alone and he's hypertensive etc. He assures me that I'll get to know if something happens to him. Other than that, my friends are there to help me - especially the Professor. In the evening, I get invited to the in-house party at the sculptor's. I meet a few new older men in there. We have alcohol and I get insanely drunk. I was stupid enough to do that on an empty stomach and as a result I threw up later on in the night. But at least, the first night is over with!
- Wednesday, Dec 24: The third leg of my job-interview is over - still positive. I visit the family-friend's place and share my worries regarding my Mom and Dad planning to visit me in Mumbai. He's my Mom's best friend since childhood and he, unlike my relatives, is more realistic about life. He and I bond (he's a very nice guy, I have felt) and agree to meet more often and to help each other in managing my Mom and Dad when they do visit. By evening, it's the birthday party of Dr. R! I was invited to be the surprise for the party and I travel all the way across Mumbai to celebrate the party her fiance's. Wonderful family, they were. Later on, we have dinner at a restaurant - I start missing Vinokur badly. I want to get away and start crying. I don't get to do that and I am relieved by a longish conversation with the Professor.
- Thursday, Dec 25: It's Christmas day and I get up rather late. Noise Market practice session becomes a memorable one as we work on a classical guitar motif that I had composed the other day. That shaped up to be rather different, more mature sounding pop-rock song. Evening time's the worst - I plan to meet a new guy - he was busy. I ring up the sculptor for a dinner-conversation date. It's just wonderful to talk to him - he used to be counsellor at the Humsafar. We have a wonderful mallu meal at restaurant and then walk back home. I am not quite sure if he was looking forward to having sex. I decide that the next time I'll make the move.
For all those who stood by me through the last year or so - especially people like the Well Wisher in NYC - thanks a lot!
And lastly, Vinokur - I know you will be reading this - hold on my dear! Let's just wade it across this time period. Soon, we'll start talking to each other - as friends - and until then, take care of yourself. Okay? We all love you!
(*The real 12 days of Christmas start on the 25th - I know! But this is MY 12 days of Christmas. Please do forgive!)
Sweetness from Chennai - part 1
Today I received an SMS from my sister. That was probably the sweetest thing that I have heard from her. Ever. You judge the rest.
Good to hear that you are doing well in studies. And I want you to know that I love you in spite of the increasing lack of understanding between us. You'd remain my dear brother even if we don't talk, meet and irrespective of what you become in your life.'Vinokur needs to get his act together. Finally, he faces stiff competition from India!
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