My sister made everyone proud

My family is somewhat known for academics. Well, I know that holds true for most the Tam-Bram families that you know. Yet, my sister and I have been very good academicians throughout our academic careers. But yet, this news caught be my surprise initially, and pride and happiness immediately after.

Yesterday, my sister texted me stating that she had cleared the IIT-Madras MS entrance.

I'll try to put this in perspective. She is turning 41 this year. She graduated in Civil Engineering 19 years back. Since then she has taken some correspondence courses (e.g., MBA). For the last few years, she has been busy with her kid and her parents in law, who have not been in the pink of their healths.

Of course, I congratulated her and wished her the very best. She responded in a rather nonchalant manner that she may not be able to join because of her commitments to the family.

I feel sad about that, but I very well know that she can't do anything else. She, unlike me, has chosen to put family over everything else, thus, in my opinion, not taking care of herself as much as she should.

How it all went wrong today

Today has been a bad day. It started off well. I woke up early enough, made coffee, had a quick shower, and headed to the office. Although it was dull and murky, it wasn't raining on my rickshaw ride to work. I had the usual roadside idli breakfast and reached work just before my reporting time. The first hour went really well, when I thought I did well to finish the work on an assignment. Then it all started to go wrong.

First it was the constant barrage of interruptions. Junior editors asking me doubts, the project managers constantly shuffling and changing work, people randomly coming up and stopping by, work-related e-mail and instant messages on your computers. I know multitasking is not efficient, but how the hell do you ask people to stop interrupting you? One could argue that being interrupted is a given in a work environment similar to mine, but I don't think that still doesn't explain why people don't think of ways to establish guidelines to streamline all of this.

And then the personal life interruptions started to mount. Messages and e-mails from my sister and Jay. I simply cannot seem to ask them to stop interrupting me. They probably are having an easy day--well, at least I know that sister was taking a day off to recover from an upper respiratory infection--and they want to share it with. Or so it seems like. I don't want to be rude, but it still does make me stressed and anxious. Usually, my afternoon catnap does wonders. It did today too. But after that, the constant stream of interruptions kept me on edge all evening. How I wish I could just block everything and just do my work.

Then the day became worse. Unnecessary wait for the rickshaw, heavy rain on the way with me getting partially wet, crazy traffic--all of this when I was trying to reach my apartment in time to receive my guitar amplifier from someone that my friend was sending it with. In the middle of all this, there was a playful, teasing Jay, at the other end of a Whatsapp chat. Eventually, I let him know that I would appreciate if he would be a little more understanding and less teasing when things are not working out for me. I don't think he completely understood but there was a temporary relief from the frantic texting.

Then I walked into my building to screaming kids, as usual. I walked into my apartment to find that the maid hasn't come in an done the cleaning. Eventually, I learned that my friend was not going to be able to send the amplifier after all! I was so edgy by this time, that I felt that I need to have dinner and go to bed early. So I dial the restaurant downstairs to only find out that there telephone line is engaged for almost half an hour! In between all this, some more texting with Jay. Eventually I got through to the restaurant and got some dinner.

I tried to read a book for a bit but the most annoying ads in between overs on the cricket broadcast and the screaming kids on the corridor did not let me concentrate. Then I had dinner and I felt slightly better. Jay tried some philosophy on the fucked-up-ness of the world on text. That's probably not what I wanted. Eventually, he asked me if I would like to have a phone conversation. A usual, I refused because I felt that we would have a very edgy conversation. It was hard to make him understand why I must go to bed early.

I watched the last few overs of the test match while sorting out my medications for the next few weeks, putting the cocktail of pills in my monthly pill box. I realized that I was relatively short of one of the six I was on. That means that I have to go get another prescription from the shrink and go to the pharmacy and beg for them to give the drugs to me! Aarrgh! The only other things that I can imagine that could have made this day worse are losing my wallet, getting dumped, and have multiple limbs amputated in a road traffic accident.

I want this day to end. Please.

Chennai homophobic rally

I just read this post on Orinam.net, which is a bilingual website (Tamil and English) associated with the Chennai-based group for social-support-arts-advocacy called Orinam. Similar to the Change.org petition for retaining Section 377, which has been taken down because of complaints, this is the second evidence of such blatant homophobia/regressive mentality displayed in India.

I'm out to my sister, who lives in Chennai with her family. I can completely relate to her mother-in-law and father-in-law, hardcore, conservative, Hindu Brahmins, teaming up with Christians for just this one purpose.

Sad.

(Sources: Orinam.net, @shrisadasivan, @hiyer)

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.

• 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!

Need For Humor

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

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

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

Conversation with my parents

My sister has finally gone back to Chennai with her kid. She is staying with her in-laws at the moment because her husband is on a work-related US tour. Apparently, she’s unable to find an ‘aaya’/maid/nanny to take care of the kid in Chennai. If she could, she can move to her own apartment and have some peace. I hope she finds happiness and comfort soon as taking care of a 5-month old kid is not easy.

Well, because she has left, my Mom and Dad are back to being by themselves in Kerala. Today, I woke up just at 11 am, just in time to chat with her. We had a pleasant video chat conversation where we talked about the various issues regarding my sister and myself. Although I tried pushing in the conversation about my visit to Delhi to meet my friends, she seemed resistant to talk about it. I left it at that.

My Dad also joined in for a bit during the chat. He looked older than ever with his new pair of gigantic-looking spectacles. As usual, he was trying to ask me about my ‘career’ in Orthopedics. He also wanted me to gain national recognition by performing in the AIR or some TV channel so that I can put that up on my resumé. I wanted to ask him about his predictions regarding my future, but again I restrained myself.

It’s crazy how I want my family to be involved in my emotional life. It’s almost as if I’m seeking their approval. Doesn’t everyone do that?

The Indian Express Article

Today, an article about gays and their use of the internet to 'come out' was published in the Indian Express. Yours Truly was featured in the article, that too with a photograph. Here's a link to the article.

The Digital Afterlife of the Queer
Richa Bhatia, Indian Express, Jan 26, 2011*

Coming out to family and friends is not always easy. A number of
dedicated websites have now developed to provide LGBTs with a support system

It was in his early twenties that Madurai-born Shridhar Sadasivan typed the keywords—connection, community, Queer Chennai on the Yahoo group MovenPick (a non-sexual support space for lesbian/ gay/ bi/ transgendered (LGBT) people in Chennai). What was he looking for? Confirmation that his sexuality would not be an impediment in the larger social context, something that MovenPick provided. As opposed to children from hipper, and less conservative outposts, Sadasivan, now in his early 30s “suffered with shame and guilt” all through his teen life. “I had no clue about homosexuality. I had no one to reach out to. I tried to kill myself. I found Internet and it helped me understand my sexuality, accept and be comfortable with who I am and then come out to my friends and family”, shares Sadasivan, who is now currently based in New Jersey, United States, where he works in the IT industry.

Past the closet days, Sadasivan is now making a splash with his profound stories that are published in the Tamil magazine Thinnai and Thendral. He is also a member of the executive team of Orinam.net, a bilingual LGBT resource website and is trying to create awareness in the mainstream about LGBT issues through his writings. “Indian kids normally discuss attraction, sexual feelings with friends. But kids with same-sex attraction can never discuss with their friends, so there is no support system other than the Internet as of now,” rues Sadasivan.

It is a common queer narrative. The rise of the Internet has kickstarted the emergence of a worldwide queer support system. “The personal coming out experience is certainly enhanced by the emergence of online communities. The website lends them anonymity, as people do not give out their real names. If you are anonymous, you can say whatever you want, people can’t judge you,” says MJ, Mumbai-based co-founder of the two-year-old portal gaysi.com, a first-of-its kind initiative in India, where the desi-gay community comes together and shares personal stories of their struggles and their coming out narratives. Over the past two years, the website is seeing traffic from all over the world,with about 500-600 hits a day of late. “Besides international dating sites, there is no online platform where desis can come over and connect. So we set it up pumping in money from our own pockets,” said MJ. Though still not a commercially viable project, she is wary of asking for donations. “The advertising revenue is next to nothing, so we are looking for other ways of marketing, including endorsements from corporates who are not hesitant to support our cause,” she says. 24-year-old Agnivo Niyogi sees larger implications for the LGBT presence on the web in the socio-media landscape. “Of late, the LGBT community is seen as a good market to invest. It can prove commercially viable through right marketing and niche products. We already have queer stores and queer e-zones,” said the Kolkata-based Niyogi, who is also a contributor to the one-year-old monthly magazine Gaylaxy, an online LGBT magazine. Though there are overseas niche websites such as TwoBrides.com, TwoGrooms.com — a one-stop-shop for gay weddings that offers products, information, wedding stories and ceremony topics — the scene in India is very nascent. “People are not willing to come up with such ideas. There is a lack of initiative,” rues Niyogi, who works as a content developer with New Age Knowledge Solutions.

There wasn’t any internet in Thiruvananthapuram, when Krishna Kumar Venkitachalam, now 31, came to grips with his sexuality. There was no one to talk to either. In his early days, Venkitachalam, logged on to Yahoo groups to “find friends online”. Since then, he has moved base to Mumbai, where Venkitachalam, who has a degree in Orthopedics, works in a KPO by the day and slides into the musician avatar as Kris Bass and gigs by night. Bass is also a popular blogger at www.engayinglife, a seven-year-old blog started in Mumbai. It was through the blog that Venkitachalam chose to come out in 2007. “My sister and her husband first read the blog in 2003 and came to know about my orientation, though I officially came out to my parents in 2008. My mother had known about it for sometime but chose to ignore it since she thought I was too young. She is very supportive, though my Dad is still shaky about it,” shares Venkitachalam. His blog, about “a queer, amateur songwriter and a bassist gives an insight into a person who is also gay”. These days, he is perpetually online, hanging out in chat rooms “not to seek sex but intelligent conversation”. “I am not a gay activist,” notes Venkitachalam. “I am just letting people know that I am pretty much a next door type guy, who also happens to be gay,” he said.

Of course, there are errors in the article. First of all, there WAS internet when I came to grips with my sexuality. That's how I got to know that there were millions of men like me. There were very few people to talk to, and I came out to my friends first. Then, this blog wasn't started in Mumbai. I started blogging when I was in Thiruvananthapuram.

I don't exactly know the time when my sister and my brother-in-law came to know about my orientation, but I guess it was around 2004/2005. I was always out on the blog and I have hardly used it as a means to come out. Of course, my friends, when they come across it at first, come to know about my orientation (because the header says that I'm queer).

I have always come out to people personally - either by telling them on their faces that "Dude, listen how can I get in bed with you?" or "Girl, do you have a father/uncle than I can have sex with?" - or by joking about it, just like I did in the first part of this sentence.

I had indirectly come out to my sister way back in 1999 when I had made a website for myself. At that point, my home page had a statement saying that "I'm definitely not a heterosexual." My sister had read it and I thought she had chosen to ignore it.

Then, I came out to my Mom and Dad in 2009. That was the first time they came to know about it. I don't think they have ignored it ever. But they do have problems in talking to me about it. I must admit that my Mom is getting much better at it now.

So, I became famous once more. Thanks Indian Express.

Farewell to a friendship

I had another chat conversation with my sister this afternoon, the first one after our previous one in which we insulted and hurt each other. As a modus operandi, I started the conversation asking about how things were and how the weather was etc – many of my friends had advised me that it was the best way to go about such an unhealthy relationship. She said she was fine and asked me if I was and we thanked each other. I thought things were working out well. I tried to dilute the conversation by sending her and my Mom a recent picture of me taken at the New Year’s Eve party.

Eventually, however, she brought the topic of our previous conversation. She said that she was sorry to have been so blunt and hurtful. She said that she didn’t like to mask her feelings and wanted to be honest about how she felt about me. I told her that we had fallen out of the friendship that we had – we were each other’s best friends for many years during our combined childhood, adolescence, and early adulthood – and that to maintain whatever that was left, it was best that we became ‘fake’ friends.

I also mentioned that I felt more free during online chats with my mother because she seemed to understand me more and appeared generally kinder and more gentle in her dealings. She seemed hurt – more hurt than me, probably because I already knew how our relationship was going to end up anyway. She said that she would rather be not in close touch than be ‘fake’ friends, to stop being touch with me for some time at least. I couldn’t say anything but ‘yes.’

I guess, things ended up just the way that I had written in the song ‘Hope It’s Over’ about me and her. The final line ‘Yes it is’ sounded a tad too harsh, but it’s exactly what has happened. This is the song that I had dedicated to her in the only gig of mine that she had attended. This was in late 2009, I think. Anyway, an ending which might be sad, but is true.

Hope It’s Over (2008)

When did I stop being, what I used to be
Where did I start falling, you weren't looking
What did I start chasing, it feels so long
Whom did I leave stranded, I fell so hard, I felt so low

Was it you, was it me, who knows

When did I stop listening, it was deafening
Where did I stop looking, what lies ahead
What did I start wishing, wish I'd be there now
Whom did I try faking, I tried so hard, I felt so lone

Was it you, was it me, who knows
Was it you, was it me, who knows

The hope that is left, is it too heavy to confess
The hope that is left, it's so easy to forget

Was it you, was it me, who knows
Was it you, was it me, is it over?

Is it over?
Yes it is.

So much for blood relationships

Last weekend, I had a chat conversation with my sister. I thought it was about time that I mentioned the developments in my life vis-a-vis men and romance. I didn't want her to know after the rest of the world already knew, which already is the case unfortunatley.

As usual, our conversation was nothing but rude and unhealthy. I opened my heart out to her and I guess she did it too. Our feelings to each other were categorically unruly. She asked me things like 'Why do you meet before you get to know them/like them?', to which all I had to say was 'That's how relationships are made, by meeting peope and knowing them better'.

When I told her that humor was a very important factor when it came to choosing a man because I had a good sense of humor, she said that she thought that I didn't. That's how shallow our relationship has become these days. If she didn't know that I was funny, she hasn't known me at all, I said. She said that what she knew of me from the past, I didn't have much of a sense of humor. Incredible!

And then, as usual, she asked me to make decisions carefully, as if I didn't know that already. She thought that my decisions have not been well thought through and that's the reason why I'm having such a miserable life. I asked her how she knew that she was right? Then she asked me 'Now, who's being rude here?'

With that she and I decided that we better not chat with each other any further. This is the reason I should believe why families are not meant for the welfare of people like me. Also, I know why it was such a wise choice to have decided to separate myself from the family and adopt 'friends' as the primary family. As someone told me the other days, and I quote, 'Friends, to gay people, are what family is to straight people'.

My cousins now know

My sister is currently nursing her baby girlchild. That's an enormous responsibility. She seems to want more. Why else would she shoulder the responsibility of coming out, albeit on my behalf, to my cousins. The ironic and funny thing about this fact is that my parents had forbidden me from doing so myself. So my sister breaks the shackles for me.

It apparently started with two of the closest cousins from my inglorious past. They were surprised, but apparently accepted the news rather graciously. They must have had questions and I don't know how far my rather frail (physically, of course) sister would have been able to handle those. I wish I can help her with the burden -- if only my telephobia would allow me.

Now, these two gentlemen couldn't hold the breaking news to themselves. They confided in their siblings -- a brother and a sister. The brother, the youngest of the four cousins involved in this little fiasco, has already browsed through this blog and read bits and pieces. The sister, however, is grappling to come to her senses having heard the news.

She must have been thinking - 'How could it have happened? He looks normal! He behaves normally. He's funny and intelligent. He's educated and talented. He's just like one of us. I don't believe it!'

Well, the heart of the matter is that, my dear cousin sister, I'm exactly what all you think about me - the positive and negative things. Just the fact that I'm gay. I like men just like the way you like men. I like to have an emotional relationship with a man of my choice. Yes, and have sex with him. Sometimes these things can be mutually exclusive. But the answer is yes.

So, take your time. Let it sink in. At the other end, you will still find me.

Telephobia

It’s a forgotten fact about my forgettable past. Yes, I used to be an introvert once. My tenure as a medical student and the responsibilities related to my sister’s marriage, which, in turn, was a result of the sheer ineptitude of my father in tact and intrafamilial affairs, had allowed my de-cocooning and metamorphosis into a social butterfly.

Most of my current friends haven’t a clue about this dark aspect of mine. Let me try to put it in a rather complex way: my past is not present in their past related to me because I was not present in their past at that stage. Anyway, my introversion remanifested around the time I had to deal with the mental trauma related to Vinokur’s illness/visit and the eventual separation; it has now established itself to be the primary trait in my present day life.

One of the characteristic features of this shade of my personality is my fear to have phone conversations. A Google search tells me that this is a prevalent, relatively well-known phobia and is referred to as phone phobia, telephone phobia, or telephobia. My telephobia is currently rooted in my fear to have conversations with people who I have a difficult job convincing my side of things in traumatic topics, which include my career choices, familial duties, and depressive tendencies.

Although my best friends (Chuck, Ray, and May) have the level of understanding with me that should enable a conversation, I still fear the trauma associated with the reestablishment of a torn umbilical cord — nature lets the umbilical cord atrophy, we try to put it back together. What I’m trying to say is that - it's that hard for me to speak to anyone, even my best friends.

My telephobia, which is an element of the broad umbrella of social phobia, is acute with my family, relatives, and friends from my past. Please note that the modifier ‘from my past’ was not initially meant for the former two items in my three-item list, but can encapsulate them as well, because of the obvious — I have honestly moved on from my family and relatives, haven’t I?

Thus I don’t take calls from my past and definitely don’t make calls to those associated with it. Simple. Avoid trauma — the reincarnations of the past that I have left behind for good, even though a very tiny part of I may still want that past to be a part of my present.

When not at its inglorious best, my telephobia manifests as rudeness or curtness. Sometimes my perplexity as to what necessitated a phone conversation in the first place, when we could have perfectly avoided it, seeps through, you see. I often forget to sugarcoat my words in the social context and I misunderstood as the consequence. People fail to understand that I’ve never had that part in my machinery to start with — so how can have the oil to lubricate it?

Maybe this post is not cogent and is rather disoriented. But the final message is this — for telephobic folks like me, SMSes, e-mails, and even face-to-face conversations work better. There it is for you; that little snippet of me is out.

I become an uncle

Half a year ago, I was all excited about the prospect of becoming an uncle. I was happy to share the news with everyone at my office and was generally looking forward to being an uncle. But things have changed for the worse, again.

Today, my sister delivered a baby girl. My sister sent me a message early in the morning saying that she's starting to get labor pains. She had called me later in the morning, when I was still asleep. From then on, I remained incommunicado with my family except through SMS. I didn't pick up calls from anyone - including those from my parents and brother-in-law informing me about the baby being born at around 6.14 pm (my Dad's SMS told me that -- he's an astrologer, you see).

It must have been the shame that made me do it. Shame of having let down my sister and my family, of not being there when she needed it. Shame of being a failure in life. Shame of having thrown away the best opportunities that I have had. This shame is parallel to my mental state which wreaks of negativity.

The drugs aren't so effective after all.

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.

It is indeed over

The separation is huge. It's a bit too much for anything earthly to plug with. The mannerisms, the vocabulary, the humor, the accent, the food, the drinks the priorities, the questions, the answers, the priorities, the values - everything is different. For quite a while, I myself couldn't believe if we were of the same blood. My paranoia about me being adopted by my family was reignited.

Why should they refuse to have a dinner? Why should I be made to feel embarassed for my band mates? Why should I be embarassed about their nutrition when I had perfectly edible, albeit kosher, food for them in the refrigerator? Why should I feel that I was being judged for the 12 hours of re-acquaintance, of which 6 were used up for sleep?

Could this be really happening? How could we possibly explain this? I've been away physically for 5 years from home - she 10. I've been virtually married for 3 years. She's been married for 9 years. She's been in and out of non-clinicial readjusted depression for 9 years - I've been in and out of clinical depression for which I'm receiving treatment now. I've been mentally liberated for 10 years, and she's been jailed for 9 - a coincidence, I bet not?

There used to be hope. Now it is over. Wait, wasn't I hoping it would be over? Yes, that's the last line in the song that I sang for her - 'I hope it is!

I'm sorry to have hurt, if I indeed have. I believe that honesty is the price you pay for being nice. :-(

Random Updates: 21st of Jan

Here's another set of random updates about the who's who in my life

• Vinokur: He and I are still keeping in touch as the best friends. Like me, he is searching for love, but in Manhattan. His profile picture and the text (that I kinda wrote for him) is getting him a lot of attention, quite deservedly so. But he has not yet found anyone substantial enough to go out for a date. Health-wise, he is doing much much better. The tremors are going down, the sparkle is back in the eye and the agility of the mind is as good as it has ever been! (Love ya, Vinokur!)
  
• My Sister: She's going on well with the prospect of relocating to the US because of her hubby's job situation. Funny, because the US is worst affected by recession and the job scene is very bad there. Ironically, she's going to go away from India and finally going to find some freedom in the US. I'm so relieved and happy for her. Long live recession!
  Ray: He's getting busy with his wedding plans amongst other things. I had a brief rendezvous with him on my way home. As usual, I found myself talking more than I listen. I'm very happy for him that he has found someone who he will be happy with. The only major worry for me is that I might not be able to take leave and be there with him for his wedding in late March!
• May: She's very busy with her stint as a resident in hematology. I hope she decides to take this up as the subject of her specialization. On the downside, her Dad is not doing all that well with Chronic Renal Failure. I felt that I need to visit him and her wonderful Mom someday when I have the time and money. I wish to offer her and her family support in whichever way that I possibly can.
• Chuck: He is busy practicing his Orthopaedic surgical skills at a hospital in the northern wilderness of Kerala. There is a slight possibility that his family, his brother actually, might be interested in buying the house that I grew up in, thus supplementing the fast-depleted bank accounts of my Mom and Dad. If not them, someone else - it has to happen soon. I don't want my Mom and Dad to suffer from shortage of funds at this stage in their lives.
• Noise Market: I haven't blogged anything about us recently, have I? Well, that's because there is nothing happening other than the dreary monotony of the promises from the record label with the never-ending series of dates on which they will pay the studio, us etc. We have finally agreed on an addendum to the contract - thanks to couple of lawyer friends that I stumbled on through this blog/internet! I hope things will soon start to happen - even if they do, I'll be starting my job next month!
• Mr. Bach: He's back in the Snakes spending depressing days in the cold and harsh winter. He's planning a return trip to India soon.

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.

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.

In the last seven days or so...

• Jan 5th - I'm in the middle of being set-up with this guy who is kinda cool by a couple of friends at the GB Sunday meet. I'm excited about it and surely this guy looks interesting. I talk to him over the phone hoping to meet up sometime during the day but due to a GI disturbance at the other end, we postpone it to the next possible time - which is the next day. Funny thing, he sounds like an American over the phone! Strange!
  
  
• Jan 6th - I meet up with this charming guy at the Jehangir art gallery where he is buying a sculpture. The first thing we do after meeting up is to go over to a sculpture of a head of a man which he was planning to bu. He asked me what I thought about it. I blurt out 'It looks like you. You are probably narcissistic and that's why you are buying it.' Everybody laughs nervously and I throw head my back in the Will and Grace style hoping that it wouldn't be the end of my date.
  
  Thankfully, the date keeps on going. We hang out at another art gallery where he buys paintings and other piece of art which he's taking back to the US with him. We have a delicious Parsi restaurant in Colaba which is where he frequented when he was a child. He invites me over to his luxurious house (houses) where we end up talking and making out and I get laid eventually. This, despite me being in a state of nervous anxiety with excitement - this guy is very attractive! I guess I'll have to catch my breath now (I'm typing this moments away from knowing my exam results; ergo, I'm jittery) and describe this person.
  
  His name is Bach. Anything more about his life is going to invade his privacy. Just that he's retired and he lives in the US most of the year. He's handsome, charming, intellgent, funny and very, very attractive.
  
  As the evening grows old, he introduces me to his friends who are visiting him and we have a conversation. At the end of that, I'm not quite sure what's going to happen. All I know is that I want to be with him. He offers me if I want to stay over for the night. 'I don't mind.' is what I say which is couldn't be farther from the truth. So, we end up spending the night cuddling up and talking and getting to know each other better.
  
  
• Jan 7th - We spend the day together when I get to meet more of his friends and family. I'm getting more and more attracted to him. He doesn't deny it either. He's very careful about one thing though - he makes it very clear that he's not going to be here in India most of the year and hence, we should keep ourselves in check always.
  
  
• Jan 8th - I leave early morning from his place for a rehearsal session with Noise Market. I'm tired but excited. As soon as the practice session ends, I dress up and head over to his place with my guitar and some changes. The guitar was because he wanted to hear me sing and he was inviting a few friends over for a 'farewell party' for him as he is boarding a plane on Saturday night back to the Snakes. I get to interact with the most precious person in his life; his adopted son. Later on, he joins me as a 'date' for the release of the album of our friends - Swarathma - Jay was the only person from the band who joined in. The night is another tired night for both of us as we haven't been able to sleep with each other around.
  
  Something else happened - I got to realize that the judgement of the High Court about the Section 377 is going to come very soon and I am one of the people who is supposed to talk to the media (in Malayalam) about it. Along with the fact that I was moved by Bach's out life-style and the way he is accepted by the family, I decide to come out to my parents no matter what after the results come out - positive or negative.
  
  
• Jan 9th - Bach is busy in the morning with some errands to run and I leave his home early to think of buying something for him as a gift - he was being so nice to me. I end up buying a USB pen drive (cheap, lame-ass gift: only because he had big fat UFO esque looking one with him which really didn't go with his elegance) from Lamington road. I walk around the Fort area and eventually buy him an elegant black kurtha pajama - he loves black, and red. I end up meeting T. (E-boi's better half) at her college just to kill some time before I can meet up with Bach again. Late afternoon, we are back in his house but he's tired and decides to take a nap.
  
  I decide to rehearse some songs that I want to sing for him - songs that I chose based on what I knew about him and myself and situation that we found ourselves in while he naps. At around 5.30 pm, I get to know that the results of my exam are out and I try to find them out. But the university has closed and I can't know them until Monday. I'm a tense little fuck. Later on, we both dress up in kurtha pajama sets of white and black respectively for the party. There are just very few people in the party - some of them who might be jealous of me being with Bach. I get high on Cognac and sing a few songs along with the most wonderful singer/solo artist who is a friend of Bach's - some of them which might have been considered boring and inappropriate - if only people would understand why I chose them.
  
  The most incredible thing happened then. I got a call from Xander who is in Dubai and because of my 'high' state and my nervous, emotional state - I end up talking with him. That must have been awkward in the context of an intimate party situation. Bach and I have another night were we discuss more serious issues about my career, future etc. Bach honestly believes that I should fix a date after which I'll have to take surgery back up as a career option if my music career doesn't take off. We have a wonderful night of sexual pleasure.
  
  
• Jan 10th - Another day of errands on top of 'goodbyes' to the family and friends for Bach and I leave his apartment and head back home agreeing to meet later on in the night to say goodbye and seeing him off at the airport. On my way, I change my guitar strings and end up buying a Hohner blues harmonica set just because I was ravaged by the thoughts of the various possibilities with it. The day is spent in anxiety and fear of separation.
  
  Later in the evening, I go help him pack the stuff. He's a nervous wreck himself with the prospect of travel and 'relocating' after 3 months. He claims to his friends that I have been helpful in making him feel much more comfortable over the past few days. That makes me feel happy. We leave for the airport and he makes it fairly obvious to me that I shouldn't get carried away with what has happened and not expect an 'virtual' relationship with him. He suggests we'll take it up once more when he comes back to India. It does make a lot of sense. I feel that my brain is learning to fight the heart and at least keeping the bout alive. I leave him off at the airport and come back to pour my heart out to Vinokur who is happy that I'm happy.
  
  
• Jan 11th, Sunday: An entertaining practice session with Noise Market and a couple of wonderful documentary films at Humsafar comprise most of my day. In the night I talk to Ray, my sister and Vinokur about the entire situation regarding exams and coming out. I fiddle around with harmonicas and guitar and feel really good. Just before hitting the sack, I get a message from Bach saying that he has reached home safely. I'm happy and hopeful. :) Oh wait, the results are not out yet. I'm not happy and I'm anxious! :(

A new article

I wanted to write something on the way the media has fucked up the coverage on the terror attacks. I procrastinated long and hard, had an online debate with the Professor and decided to finally write something. The efforts (with some typos - I'm sorry) can be seen here.

It's coinicidental that my sister told me today that a job at writing for a magazine or something might be good for me. She thinks that I write well and I might be gifted in it.