Smells and the Sensibilities
JC finally left for Pennsylvania, and my office situation wasn’t the same ever. It was not because of the whole episode with Gill’s beau, who apparently was also my manager and had unknowingly found out I was gay. Although, he was more scared of me now and avoiding me as much as he could. I was just not satisfied the way life was turning up. I knew I had to change my life; I always wanted to study again, live independently and take a break. Hence, I left the three most important things in my life i.e. Ken, Rumi and Mumbai and entered in to full time relationship with my Master’s degree and London. And what a relationship it was. However, here I am after 3 years returning back to the city, sans a career, sans a guy, but not alone.
Each city has a smell and as I stood at the exit gate, I close my eyes and smell Mumbai; and it’s the most disgusting smell I ever smelled. I never agreed to NRI’s or others who joked that you know you have reached Mumbai by a really bad smell. But, honey Mumbai smelt bad at 1 in the morning. Ken arrives fashionably late to pick me up and just like old times there is no sign of Rumi in the suburbs. Looking at my questioning brow arch, Ken informs “don’t expect her SoBo highness please, I tired but he refused to come this side of the town, but he sends his best”. Ken hands me over my new sim card which I quickly insert in my Xperia. Ken tucks my suitcase away in the Meru hired car and I assume he is coming with me to drop me home but he hugs me and says I am working tomorrow. Just then I remember its Saturday tomorrow “why are you working on a Saturday” I question and he replies sarcastically “This is India, some of us work on Saturdays!”. The journey from Chhatrapati Shivaji airport to suburbs was not bad, I was in my apartment in half an hour.
After getting fresh, I look out of the window over-looking the mountains of the National park and I wonder here I am again, sans career, sans a boyfriend, but amongst the three most important things in my life: one which stinks, one which still doesn’t want to meet in suburbs and one which is fashionably late and works on Saturdays, but I was home or was I?
Just then the bell rings and at three in the morning, I was not expecting visitors. It did make my dad very grumpy as he opened the door half awake. Dad comes to my room and tells me it’s for me. And as I walk towards the door I see Rumi with a bottle of champagne in one hand and Ken carrying a British flag and they bow down and greet “The queen has landed”. I couldn’t help but hug them and just like that for the first time my anxiety of coming back, had vanished at least at that moment I felt sensible in coming back.
I knew it then, that it will be just like old times… Me… Rumi… Ken… and Mumbai- a bit stinking but I will get over it soon and camouflage it by all the fabulous brands of perfume I had got from UK.
I hear a come-back
My dear readers,
After like 2 years am back in the city and back writing… stay tuned for more of Mumbai, Rumi, Ken and my life in-between. They are still single, still fabulous but have they become wiser in love?
Find out on 1/4/2013
Badnaam hua
“He is 100% top and he is hot” is how Deepak a 26 year old described his boy, he was using as a toy. Top and Hot were two keywords which would get attention of Rumi anywhere, any time. He wanted more info, while I and Ken started looking at the menu of Cafe Coffee Day at Carters.
Deepak went on and on about his fucking skills while Rumi like a journalist interviewing a celebrity, had an endless list of personal question to which Deepak was answering without any sankoch (hang-ups). Ken interrupts the tete a tete and asks Rumi “can you like stop the interview, wouldn’t you like to order?”. Just then Deepak remembers something and informs Rumi “Wait a minute, rather I would show you this” he takes out his Iphone and plays a video of him with the ‘Hot Top’ uploaded on Xtube; without realising that it was on the highest volume. I am pretty sure the voices of Deepak artificially moaning and at times screaming might have been heard by the R Kapoor family residing at hill road and by the look of people in the coffee-shop I could easily make out that they could be thinking of us as sleazy guys watching porn over coffee. I have seen Rumi watch porn but not with that excitement. So I get intrigued and peep in too, and Ken gives me a “look of shame”. This guy was fucking the hell out of Deepak; I question,” doesn’t that stuff hurt you?”, Rumi gets irritated and shoos me away. The video ended and Rumi had an orgasmic relief on his face.
Ken says “you guys, disgust me”, can we like have coffee and get out of here, to which Deepak says “thats what you think mister, just have a look at all the comments on this video ” Ken gives a look of disgust to Deepak and walks towards the looh. Me and Rumi look at all the comments and Rumi exclaims “you have got 5 stars, that’s supeerrr”. I think I saw Deepak blushing on that comment. I started reading some of the comments besides thumbs up and wow’s and some really rude comments I cannot mention. There were “I would love to do with you doggy style”, “would you like to participate in a threesome with me and my boy friend” and there was one in particular “You are a top-bottom” which I read out a bit loud, just then Ken made his presence felt by taking the phone off me and handed it over to Deepak. Deepak left as he had to meet his hot top. Which left three of us; actually two of us; as Rumi was still lost in some thoughts, after like 10 mins of lost Rumi I get concerned and ask what the matter was. He says “I want to be Top Bottom” with the same eagerness a struggler looks at Shahrukh’s Mannat and aspires to be there someday. The genuine-ness of Rumi’s statement made me think this can only happen in the gay world where there can be a race not for the top but to be the best bottom. Maybe it was the season, it was the month where Munni was infact getting badnaam but popular.
Anyways, I on the other hand was away from the badnaami and spending most of my time with Jeff Craig a 29 year old expat from Dallas, whom I met in a very ‘urban way’; in the office elevator. He was working in the same building where I was. I had seen him before on Planet Romeo and I am pretty sure that he had seen me too. It was just the way we exchanged the looks when he was in the elevator with me. The exchanging of looks continued for a while, gradually moving on to smiling, followed by introductions. Then there was this day when I was getting out of the elevator and he asked me if I would like to take a smoke break with him and just like an idiot I replied ‘I don’t smoke’ and before I could beat my self on missing the hint; I look back and tell him, well but I can give you company. What followed was a week of passive smoking followed by a regular meeting, dinner dates and time spent at room no. 1505 of JW Marriots hotel. Every thing was going fine until I was introduced to the guest relations officer of Marriots who had become a good friend of JC (as I call Jeff), and who invited us for a dinner with her Beau at their place. I have had fag-hags but they always wanted to meet alone for a private dinner to let their heart out/ boy trouble, and their boy friends generally avoided being seen within four feet of me. I consider fag hags, generally as a fair weather species; who use gay guys as someone to go on parties to escape the pity of being a single lonely girl on a Saturday night party and then there were ones who use to portray a gay friend as a potential boy friend to escape from the parents forcing them to get married. It’s not that common in Mumbai that a straight couple invites a ‘dating’ gay couple for a personal dinner at their place and somewhere it did give me a nice kick from inside. Little did I know that the kick will turn out to be a pretty uncomfortable one.
All excited I called up Rumi and Ken, within five minutes Rumi changed the topic and asked us if we had an account with Xtube. I knew what was coming. He explains, I am asking only because within two days I will be there and I want comments and ratings. Generally you can watch the video free but for comments you need an account, so please create one. Ken just wished me luck and asked me if Jeff and I were getting serious, to which I informed him about our situation that Jeff was just an expat and we both have no clue when this will come to an end, so we are not giving it a name and just that we enjoy each others company a lot and there is this mutual respect and love for each other and we don’t want to miss out on it, just because of the situation. Rumi comments “Crap Miss Universe answer”. I ignore the comment and also inform them that it was after a long time that I have met someone with whom I have the right chemistry. Ken just warns me that whatever it is don’t fall in love. I did say yes, but somewhere I knew I was lying. The dinner had happened just at the right time cause just after that week I was going for management training at a resort in Lonavala for 3 days. It was one of those training where one learns through various Team bonding exercise, etc.
At exactly 9pm we entered Ms. Gill’s aka the guest relations residence in Andheri Lokhandwala, after introducing us to a few friends and her parents she wanted us to meet her husband. There he was all 5.11” inches dressed in a formal Provogue shirt and really unbranded shoes my boss aka Ms. Gills beau as shocked and surprised as I was.
Stop
Rumi sips coke and declares “a fuck buddy is a F-U-C-K Buddy, were you expecting him to send you a message, hi I am in Mumbai will be nice to take you out for a dinner? He knows what he wants, you are the one that needs to do some thinking moreover if you don’t want, pass him over, it’s always nice to do a little something-something with a cabin-crew”. Ken takes my mobile and checks the message “I have a stop over in Mumbai, wanna have a fuck session” he looks at me and adds you are a “Stop over fuck” and starts bursting into an annoying laughter to which Rumi joins in.
On my way home I kept looking at the sms and wondered? When did I change from a cute next door kinda guy who went on coffee date’s, to a STOP OVER FUCK kinda guy; is this what 9 yrs of dating in Mumbai does to you. Am I “A stop-over F*ck”?
It was time for a change of image. So I was not meeting anyone from abroad, including traveller’s from outside Mumbai, or guys with temporary jobs in Mumbai, expats etc. I became a strict follower of Raj Thackrey’s view point ‘If you are not from Mumbai, you shall not have me’. I log on to my Planet Romeo to track down how many messages did I receive from guys originally from Mumbai & I was pretty disappointed. So I did a search on guys from Mumbai & sent messages to a few of them.
Over next few days I continue doing the same. I got the following replies: “Kandivali, too far I am in Thana”, “Sorry I don’t date guys from suburbs”, “u r too slim for me”, “You are not what I am looking for”, “What’s ur size”, “U look bottom, I am bottom too, so what will two sisters do”. Also a messg in Marathi “Mala tujhi gaand aaptaichi ahey, kadi aiyo mi”. Just then my Gdar buzzed indicating “1 message”. It was from a really handsome- dashing –Roman nose (my weak point) guy wanting to meet me, the message did not have any sexual agenda incorporated, just the words ‘liked your profile would you like to meet’. I assert myself & answer.
Next afternoon I find myself on a couch on a hotel near the airport waiting for him. He came wearing a pink T-shirt & shorts, and boy that nose looked so Fu**ing hot, I almost felt like licking on that pretty face like a kid slops on his ice-cream. Within first few seconds I got the info necessary to know in the first few seconds: He was Gay, Single, Spanish but originally from London. We gelled well over coffee and I took him out to see the regular touristy stuff like the Gateway, the Jehangirs, the Dhobi Ghat & finished with dinner at The Indigo Deli. Later, we came down to Bandra so that we take a rickshaw ride to his hotel.
The rickshaw took the flyover which over looks the sea & one can see all the lights illuminating from the tall sky scrappers. There is this one particular spot where you almost feel like you are in a sea & looking at the city. When we approach that part I tell Espanol “Look from here, this is the most beautiful part of the city, isn’t it?” He looks at it & then looks directly at me & says “No, that’s not the most beautiful part of the city; I am looking at the most beautiful part of the city now” he came close, and caressed my palm and he never left it till the time we reached his hotel. Once we reached the hotel, we hugged and he said “Hope I see you again in my life” I just smiled.
On my way home in that Rickshaw I looked at my hand, I had his sweat, his smell & it just made me feel like I had kissed him. It was probably a really nice date that I had in a long time, but there was something so unique about it that I still wonder if this was the end. My heart just refuses to believe that.
There are some dates which don’t end with a kiss, but they start with caressing of hands. My friend Vikram had told me once that some love stories have a tale; they are like these period epics which run for a long period & they brew. I don’t know if this is one, but I am glad it made me hopeful, so I leave this post without a period or any punctuation, maybe I will come back & add something more
Slums and the City
Brightonstud22: Do you go “out” to looh mate?
Me: I think u have SMS?
Brightonstud22: WHAT?
Me: Slumdog Millionaire Syndrome.
Brightonstud22: I think half of Mumbai shits on streets.
Me: Yes, we all in Mumbai do that, the way all Britisher’s come to India for sexual escapades with young guys & girls, stay in down market clumsy cheap hotels in Colaba Causeway & survive on Charas.
“I think you over reacted”, is what Ken told me. I look at Rumi for some support “I so have to pee, I will just go behind those walls & do it”, is what he says holding on to his crotch, like a child who eagerly wants to pee. As Rumi clears his bladder I say “Brightonstud22 was not all that wrong”, Ken adds “except we do it wearing really stylish H&M underwear” & points out towards Rumi’s strikingly beautiful, brand new H&M briefs which he was flashing while peeing.
He zips up, walks towards us & says,” there is something Butch about doing stuff like that, right in open”. I say it’s not “Butch” it’s very “slum-dog milliony”. “Are we still hung over that, c’mon let me treat you guys a beer”, Rumi suggests. As we were in Colaba Causeway, Cafe Leopold’s was the best place we could go to. Rumi goes in & makes a reservation for three. The waiting time was about twenty minutes. So we wait at the counter to check out the crowd. Just then a white guy in his late 20’s or early 30’s speaks to Rumi, invites us to join his friends. This was an offer Rumi could not resist & we walked towards their table. We make ourselves comfortable, order beer; introduce ourselves to two other friends of the guy who invited us to share a table.
Within minutes, I knew we were in the company of 2 British & 1 Scottish chap (FYI: cute). Just then in the middle of nowhere one of them points at me & says “U look like that guy from Slumdog movie”, Rumi helps “Dev Patel, the skinny one”; looks at my face, grins & adds “yeah you do”. I was embarrassed & did not think it to be a compliment at all, on the contrary an insult, I have been told to have a slight resemblance to Adrien Brody by some, but this was just a bad comparison. I knew whom to avoid that evening & thank god it was not the Scottish. He just gave me his dimpled smile & I held his hand which was noticed just by Ken.
After a few beers Rumi decided to go to the hotel room with the “insulting- Slumdog fan- freckled- Bristish-boy” ,while Ken decided to leave as he had a early shift, the other British chap had a date; so I was left alone with “my Scottish guy”. We decided to walk by The Walls.
Somewhere at Gateway of India, he questions “How much time do you think they will take”?. “It’s Rumi, don’t expect him to be early”, is what I reply. He smiles again & looks around. “So all these guys just sleep on the streets?” He asks looking at families of slums sleeping by the gate. I knew where this conversation was heading to. Well there are slums in many other cities; like America have Bronx; he interrupts “well to be frank, yes there are, but this is poverty at its worst & it really kills my heart looking at all these children”. Just then I had to open my mouth & say something stupid “Oh, we are used to it.” I add “Mumbai has more to it, than the slums, so why do you guys only look at poverty etc, when you guys come here”. Just then I look at the street, it was all covered with people sleeping on the streets of the Gateway of India, little children their parents.
“You need to accept Poverty, only then can you do something about it; & I am sorry to say, but you are behaving just like your politician’s here, ignoring & being defensive about slums & poverty. It’s a reality; accept it because only then something can be done about it.” Is what Scottish said.
A little later Rumi came & I headed towards Churchgate station & on my way all I could see was glimpses of poverty, glimpses of beggars sleeping on the pedestrian by the University of Mumbai, families sleeping even at Churchgate Station. May be, at times one does require a Danny Boyle to give you a reality check, a different yet important perspective of your own country, may be it was Scottish in my case.
I know there is very little, that I can do to change this. But, I knew I had one power, a power to vote, a power to find- a kinda- good boyfriend for India, who could take care of her, who could actually understand her. Maybe, India was just like us, a city which had been single for just too long & a history of really bad boyfriends & affairs. With elections just around the corner we all have a choice to be a good friend & find a “good-Mate” for her.
So please Vote!
Being Sindhi & Being Gay
Not so long time ago, when I was in School…Ahem…I made a choice of taking Sindhi as my third language, well it was not much a choice but I was born with it, moreover I had realised that I was bad with languages so clearly took the easiest available option, or I thought so “My Mother-tongue”. Just before the class use to start, we had to introduce ourselves.
Pooja Motwani stands up & introduces herself “Hi!” (Uncomfortably looks at every one & continues) “I know you will be surprised but I am Sindhi, tough I look Punju na?” Mr. Bhavnani tells her to sit & comments “you should be proud of what you are, you are Sindhi & that’s what you are” & he looks directly at me, I knew it was my turn to introduce thyself & before I could start he comments “U look like a Madrasi”, I knew I was not the contemporary looking fair-fat-flashy Sindhi with a surname ending with “ni” but he went way too far with that comment , the whole class started laughing, it did make me uncomfortable, but I answer back looking directly at him clearly indicating I didn’t like his statement of opinion “Fortunately, Sindhi… that’s what I am” I said. From that day onwards I was in bad books of Mr. Bhavnani.
Now let me drop the second shoe, Vinay a 25yr old guy looks directly at Ken & says “Do I look gay” Ken looks at him up & down, just then Rumi comments “Honey! The aliens sitting on Mars & looking at earth are pointing at you & saying GAY- GAY- GAY” we all burst into laughter at a Dhaba near Oshiwara police stn. Just then Deepak a 24 yr old muscular chap with strong jaw line originally from Delhi comes & joins the table (he was Ken’s friend) & Vinay was just checking him out (leeching-right word). So over beer we introduce ourselves to Deepak & when Vinay’s turn comes he says “hey I am Vinay, I am SINGLE & Gay too” & over a handshake they exchange smiles too. Rumi & I exchange a smirk over Vinay’s introduction. In my mind it reminded me of Pooja where she use to always try & be in complete denial of her Sindhiness but when it came to admission in one of the privileged colleges in the city handled by a Sindhi trusts, she not only wrote her mother tongues as Sindhi on the application form but at the top in Bold capital letters wrote S I N D H I to get a preference. That night a thought was just running in my head, is gay community any similar to the Sindhi community?
When it came to GB parties we will have herds of gay guys coming, wearing their trendiest clothes, waiting to be approached or approach, be seen & see, but talk about a pride parade some of them will either refuse or come but wear a mask. If it works for us we wrap the gay blanket & if it’s for a cause we throw that blanket back to the closet & enter the closet too. When will gays be gay & Sindhi’s be Sindhi. We have guys creating two profiles on Facebook, Orkut & say “One is my gay profile & the other is straight, so please don’t write gay comments on my straight profile”. WHY?
Other striking resemblance is the way Sindhi & gay characters are portrayed in Bollywood. Suketu Mehta in his book Maximum City had said that Mumbai is the city of extremes, but in our movies we are just over the top forget extreme, when it comes to characterization of gay guys & they will add nothing but comedy, the same is for Sindhi Characters they will always be shown people who wear really glittery clothes & bad dressing sense . I do accept that we do wear glittery clothes but good ones very Manish Malhotra types and I also know an aunt who wears Armani & Tiffany & flaunts it in marriages, which use to confuse my poor grand mom as she couldn’t understand where ArmaNI & TiffaNI hailed from in Sindh. She thought Armani was some tailor in Chembur camp & Tiffani’s was jewellery store in Bandra just next to Notandas & Sons, cause “if it’s NI it’s definitely Sindhi”.
Yes! SINGLE, that’s us
Once upon a time three wise single gay men travelled all the way to town, to meet Divi. Divi was this young 25 yr old who was happily in relationship with Sachin .They all met in Atria, a mall situated near Nehru Planetarium where one went to see and understand the galaxy, stars and universe. However, we were here to see a rare specimen too, a guy in relationship and still in love after 5 yrs. Rumi starts the conversation by asking “how is your boring life”? Ken being protective about Divi interrupts and asks “when is Sachin coming”? Divi says “he will take a while, tell me about you guys any potential relationships?” and looks at Rumi directly, Rumi says “wrong person”, points at us & continues “ask these two, they want to be in one, right now am just looking for eye candy in this mall and its tough!” he comments after he had scanned the floor we were on .Rumi makes a hand gesture that one uses when a bee buzzes & annoys you shifting Divis’ attention towards me. I sip diet coke and say “nope its just me” and I look towards Ken he smiles and says” well nothing serious, I just met a few guys nothing serious” I comment at least you are meeting, you are in the field I don’t have time” Rumi just interrupts and says “ya we all know about your job, now please don’t start again”, he looks at Divi and updates him about my job condition where he explains “ he is in a job which requires him to put many hours he doesn’t have offs and has bored us with that for like ages now”. What he said did hurt me but who expects empathy from queen who had not found a guy to leech on in a mall. I just nod and say “yep! that’s me”.
We ask Divi to tell us about you, and he starts telling us of the things that Sachin does, where they go, etc..etc.. his life was like a Yash Chopra movie a romantic musical, and Ken had all his attention on him commenting ‘that’s sweet’ sometimes we both did aww… just then Rumi says “yeah we know you are in a relationship please don’t go on, I have not travelled all the way to town for listening to this”& while he was telling this he was not looking directly at us but his eyes were still searching (I felt he was avoiding all the mushy conversation) and then all of a sudden he points at something and shouts “see Tops are on sale” and points at a window display of a shop. Few people did stare directly in that direction cause Rumi was too loud we too look in that direction too; it was just some shop selling girl tops and had a board “Tops are on sale”. It was really funny cause we were the only 4 guys laughing while the Parsi aunty’s could not understand the joke and found us silly, Ken comments looking at Rumi “couldn’t you be more loud and camp”.
Later we settle at a food court where we order and Divi receives a phone call from Sachin saying that he will be a few minutes late. Just then while we were having our lunch we see Mr. Truth Seven with a hunk and who walks in our direction he comes and says “how are you doing darlings”. We hug him and he asks Divi “still in relationship?” Divi nods, Mr. Truth Seven smiles and looks in our direction & questions “how r u singles?” were we carrying a board now with our relationship status I question. “You guys spend so much of time together that I don’t think that you guys will be ever be in a relationship” Mr. Truth Seven answers & giggles, we were just silent it was like a slap on our face he looks at us and says “got to go date, isn’t he hot” and leaves. We look at each other in question and a thought runs thru my mind, is my friendship the reason for me being in no relationship?
Sachin just came in on time to lighten the situation and we all order for desserts we just needed something sweet to lift our spirits up. Our eyes were cast on Sachin and Divi they were feeding each other, having a couple laugh the Kodak moments, both of them looked so beautiful, it was there love for each other which was adding just the right spice to their relationship just then I look at my Fren-en-emies, my cause for not being in relationship. And I see Rumi looking at SACH-DIV, somewhere the bitch had a heart which somewhere desired to be in that place with someone special & then there was Ken who was smiling looking at them & having the same feeling. Somewhere we were missing being in love, every action that SACH-DIV did actually reminded us of our past lovers and we so badly wanted to be the one to experience all that and not just watch.
We left town with a very good feeling and in taxi we were silent, from Bandra we hopped into a rickshaw and Ken breaks the silence “are we actually spending too much time with each other” Rumi looks at Ken and says “c’mon” I interrupt looking somewhere in the air and not directly at them “I too want to have all that, I want feel loved, I want to share food, have those Kodak moments, I want to be hugged too”, just then Rumi answers seriously ‘You guys know what I think we all deserve that and we will get it maybe we are not cause its not the right time, but till that time we have each other and we are fun, we have hugged together we have had those Kodak moments together, we have fed each other at times, we are so blinded by finding the one that we love and finding that Divi or that Sachin that we forget the most amazing relationship called “friendship” that we have with each other I am glad we are spending time with each other, may be we might find someone maybe we wont but we will always have each other . Being Single & Gay is difficult, I have survived those break ups cause of you guys. I know many gay guys don’t have friends, many sleep with a hidden agenda of sex when they make friends we haven’t, we choose not to .So till we have a man or men in our lives we have each other till death do us apart and we need to make most of it, so now just make up your moods up & next time if anyone questions if we are single promise me that we will grab them by their balls & say YES!SINGLE THATS US!” what Rumi said almost got tears in our eyes and we kept our heads on Rumi shoulders and had the most awesome experience.
So the three wise men probably may or may not find the ONE but they knew that all three of them had found each other in that tiny island called MUMBAI
Uncle mat kaho na.(Please don’t call me Uncle)
One thing that makes Mumbai accessible is its transportation system. We have the black & yellow Taxis, the Rickshaw’s which one cannot find down town but they start from BANDRA & SION & according to me they are best means to travel, then we have the red BEST buses again preferred by some, but the most remarkable discovery was the invention of a local train. The Mumbai Suburban Railway is the oldest in Asia, it was founded in 1847. It is owned by Indian Railways and is operated by Western Railways and Central Railways. It has become a “Life Line” of Mumbai.
It just did not offer a service of taking people from one place to another but it has actually offered a lot to everyone. People found friends here, women found a place to exchange recipes, beggars found one more place to beg, men found place to play cards, make friends, recite Bhajans (holy songs),a hot place for small time robbers & what it offered to the gay guys was 2/2 compartment, which got upgraded, I don’t know when to a 1st class compartment.
Every gay guy has had some tale to tell about some gay experience in a local train in Mumbai & Rumi had a one of a kind experience too. He hardly travels by train but on one unfortunate Sunday he came & stayed at my place in suburbs to spend sometime & Rumi got so drunk that me & Ken did not want him to leave in that condition. So he spent the night at my place & morning he got the first class local train ticket & boarded the 8:51 fast local to Churchgate. After being pushed & pulled to get in, he found a corner by the door, he made himself comfortable, but just then two college going twink’s got in with huge back packs & one of them stood right infront of Rumi with his back pack suffocating Rumi to death, at first Rumi tried to shift a bit but there was hardly any place to move. So he requested the twink to keep his bag on the shelf .The twink saw him and gave a look which clearly suggested he did not like that suggestion. After a few stations the crowd had increased & Rumi just could not take it. He did not request, now he demanded the twink to keep his bag on the shelf. The twink was not ready to do it he looked at Rumi directly & told “Oye Uncle, Andheri utarna hai, aapko kya problem hai ek konai mein khade ho na” (oye Uncle, have to get down at Andheri, what’s your problem you have got a corner to stand). Rumi had taken all kinds of assaults, abuses & given it back in a better way, which no one could answer back, but Rumi was just not prepared to be called “UNCLE”. He got down at the next station & made the most imp phone call & fixed an appointment at HFX beauty salon for an energy mask treatment & took a cab to town.
Over weekend he invited us for lunch & told us about the train incident. Ken commented by saying “This is one issue in India you have to have some kind of relationship-name attached even to a stranger, when you are a kid you are referred as BAITA (SON) by society women , later Bhaiya (Brother) by kids who are younger to you, gradually you graduate to being called Uncle & finally post- graduate towards being called Chacha (dads brother) when you become old. I comment on this by sharing a childhood experience where I was left with no option but to call “Bhaiya” to my cricket coach whom I use to think & masturbate of, it brings a smile on Rumis face. He asks “why didn’t you refer to him with his name?” I reply “all my friends use to call him Bhaiya & I did not want to loose respect in his eyes”. Rumi comments “damn you should have taken a stand”. I reply “Oh dear! the only stand I was having then, was every time he use to take off his T-shirt after the game & use it to wipe the sweat off his really awesome moderately-hairy, but perfect-chest”.
Ken & Rumi commented “You were such a whore then?” I defend by saying “I have always been an admirer of beauty & stop giving a dirty-word to it”. “What was his name? Rumi questions, I answer “ Uday*”Ken comments “ well he definitely lived upto his name” & winks at me & we laugh, Rumi looks confused he did not get the joke(Please check the * at the bottom of this blog).
Ken says “Up North we use Bhai Sahab” Rumi comments “Bother Sir, its such a confusing title”. I interrupt “Ahh ! a college kid called me that when he wanted to know road-direction”. Rumi throws a pillow on me & says “This bitch gets called Bhai sahib & me Uncle”. Ken looks at Rumi & says ”you should have told him Uncle mat kaho na” enacting the way a woman use to say “aunty mat kaho na” in Ekta Kapoors only soap without the “K” letter. Me & Ken laugh at his little act, Rumi just doesn’t understand what was funny about it. Ken tries to explain “Here it is all about relationships. A name makes one enter into a very comfortable zone & we like things defined” Rumi says I don’t have a problem with that I don’t want to be titled a UNCLE from some unknown kid who is just same as my age… Ken looks at Rumi questioningly Rumi looks at Ken & says“a few years younger to me” Ken still looks at Rumi in doubt.
Ken continues “using a title which has a relationship just makes things comfortable, the person saying it might now even mean it, some people don’t mean Uncle when they say it” he looks at Rumi &he pauses & then continues again looking at me now”the same way some people don’t mean Bhaiya when they say Bhaiya, we have an example infront of us” I nod accepting what he said was correct & made sense. Rumi asks Ken “So had anyone called you Chacha” Ken takes a pillow & throws at Rumi & we end the day with a pillow fight.
*Uday : The English meaning of the word Uday is “The RISING”, I hope you get the joke now.
Guess who’s coming to Brunch?
On Saturday I met this cute 24 yr old Ethiopian guy who had come over to finish his Phd. In Mumbai. Over coffee I kinda got a hint that his overall experience in Mumbai was not that great. I knew it was difficult to survive in the city when one is single & with no friends. So I knew what I had to do.
I called up my friends & made them all excited about this new person that I was getting for Brunch. I knew my friends will welcome this Ethiopian guy & make him comfortable .I thought he was meeting all the wrong guys, Mumbai guys are very welcoming & fun & I knew he will like them.
On a lazy Sunday afternoon we all gathered at this restaurant Five in Santacruz W. Well all were in, except the Ethiopian guy. Of all the people Rumi was really excited about the new guy, his explanation “Well I have done with most of the guys in Mumbai, it’s always nice to have a little something something with someone new” just to make them excited I tell them he is 24yrs old which kinda gets Ken smile & I added by saying he is not from India which made Rumi whisper “I Love u”. Just then I see the Ethiopian guy coming in our direction & with a smile I greet him & introduce him to Ken he gives a expression of disappointment & Rumi who greets with a smile.
After ordering Sauvignon, Ken made it clear that he will just be having wine & then going back. I did find it weird but I did not want to create any scene infront of the Ethiopian guy.Aafter trying the pickled shell pasta Rumi breaks the silence by asking “So where are u from?” he replies “Ethiopia” looking at the confusion on Rumi’s face, he tried to be more specific & says “it’s in Africa!” clearly Rumi just had nothing to say than telling Ken “You have got your bike correct?, I too will leave with u”.
Ethopian population spoke either Amharic, Oromo & English but here we were speaking “Nothing”. So I decide to speak something about food on the menu & tell the Ethopian (really pissed guy) “They serve the best prawns here, maybe we should order that”. Just then Ken shows us his finished wine glass like a kid shows to her mother after having finished his glass of milk & tells well I got to go, to which Rumi hurriedly gulps wine smiles & says we will leave now & he gives his hand for a handshake to the Ethiopian guy to which the guy stands up & says “you know what guys I am sorry to have spoiled your Brunch but I don’t belong here. I get it!” he looks at me “Thanks that you invited but now you get it, this is the same response that I get, I know you are different from all these guys & thanks for trying” & rushes out of the restaurant.
It was time for lot of explanation & arguments. I start by saying “I am so ashamed of you guys! What just happened?” Ken replies by saying “Did you see his attitude… the guy was just not my type” this was the last thing I had to hear from him “You know, did you see your attitude Mr. Maun-vrath (a fast where one doesn’t speak) & not everyone I get to meet you, you have to do them ot they have be your type…& I very well know what the issue was …it was not at all the attitude it was some issue far greater than that” Rumi takes a puff of Davidoff & looks at me…while Ken just looks in a opposite direction. I look at Rumi and say “it’s cause he is black… I so hate to say that but that’s it!”. Rumi replies to my allegation”Come on dear don’t you know how many black guys I have slept with. I love black guys they have the most amazing…” & I interrupt “that is what was surprising to me, why you had to behave like this” I take a pause & then continue” …wait a min all those guys were African American & Ethiopian was from Ethiopia”. I continue by saying “you guys are RACIST …& I so want to get out of here right now”. I give my contribution for the bill & rush out of Five in less than 5 seconds.
Later that night while having dinner & watching TV it just struck me the whole nation wants to look either Fair & Lovely or Fair & handsome, Companies even gave a scale to carry along with their product to find out how fair we are & I thought is modern day India any different from the past. We have been a country which had to fight against the caste system, Colour issues, Freedom & when I finally thought that we had passed that era I had to see it with my own eyes & my own friends (educated young guys) doing it. Ken who did not want to be in company of a black guy not for any other reason but cause he was black & Rumi cause he can sleep with & be friends with African American cause he thought they were a bit high in status than a real African, he had a problem with cause Ethiopian came from Ethiopia which was not the “IT” country.
Just then my cell phone rings & it was Ken, I thought of not talking to him all my life, but then I had to give some Gyaan to him. He starts by talking about things in office & blah. I interrupt him & tell him… “Ken do you remember this one day at work when you had to take this supervisor call & you were speaking to this British customer & how he had told you that he did not want to speak to a Brown cunt like you & hung up” Ken knew where I was going he interrupts by saying “I might have come across as a Racist, I am sorry”. I interrupt “Its not me you have to say sorry to its him, & I will tell you this, next time I see any kind of racial prejudices I will stop speaking to you guys completely, come on I consider Oprah as my icon” just then I have a call waiting, it was Rumi I knew he will be one difficult queen, so I hang up on Ken & say hello to Rumi. He says “I hate to be on call waiting” just then I interrupt “Why cause you are gay & a light brown” he cuts me out & says “Oh! are we still hung on that topic, you clearly know I am not a racist its just that someone from Ethiopia with me.. It’s just not my style” I cut him now & tell him “& do you think hanging around with a feminine guy with loads of attitude is our style”. I know this will involve some war of words but Rumi was completely silent which was surprising but then he says “That hurts, moreover cause its coming from you” .”Same here & try to understand how he must have felt with that cold shoulder you guys showed” is what I said…Rumi replies in a bit apologetic way “So tell me what do I have to do now. Well give me his no.” I search his no. On my cell phone & give him his no. & he asks me what his is name & I clearly had no clue I did remember him telling me once…so I tell Rumi that I don’t have his name. A bit surprised he asks me “How have u stored his no.” I tell him “Ethiopian Black Guy” there was silence for some time then Rumi speaks “How have u stored my name? “ I reply “Rumi queen” he questions “Kens name? “… I look up & say “Ken Taklu (bald)” Rumi shouts “Miss Mother Teresa if we are RACIST this thing of yours makes you a NAMEIST, you are just one of us. We sail in the same boat honey”. I did not know what to say, so I don’t comment on the statement & just hang up.
Little later I just pick my cell phone & check on the contact list… I had names like Dilip Chinki (for a friend from Assam)…Shweta Torture (for a colleague who was a torture to talk to) Shriram Lungi (for a guy from South India) & Rumi’s voice calling me a NAMEIST was just echoing in my mind I decide to sleep.
Next morning I had a messg on my cellphone “Miss Nameist please make your presence felt at Rumi’s place this Saturday” it was a sms from Ken…I was so scared that the message was going to pass everywhere, now that Rumi had decided to get me all dirty in the gay world. I will be socially outcasted…& be called NAMEIST.
On Saturday I take all my courage to face all of my friends. Rumi greets me into his house & I see Ken giving me the look & the Ethiopian guy was present too… there were bunch of other guys too & the Ethiopian was made comfortable among the crowd by Ken & Rumi, also it seemed like everyone liked him & one person keeping him company was Mr. Truth Seven. I did not even dare to go & tell the Ethiopian “Hi”.
I take my drink & go to the balcony where no one was. Little later the Ethiopian guy taps my back & greets me. I greet him back… he tells me “You have quiet some nerves to tell Rumi to apologise I hear he never does that “. He continues “I like your friends” & “I respect you for that” & tries to walk out of the balcony. Just then I stop him & tell him “you know I need to apologise to you” he questions for what ,I take out my cell phone & show him how I had stored his name, he smiles & takes out his cell phone & shows he had stored my name. He had stored my name as “brown & pushy” it brings a smile on my face & I ask him his name he takes my cell phone & writes WERKNEH, I ask him what does it mean he says “Gold” I take the cell phone from his hand & edit the name further & add Mr. Gold & we laugh just then Rumi joins us & pushes us as he had arranged Truth & Dare & he whispers in to my ear “ Guess what for Dare I am going to tell Werkneh to take off his pants, want to see what Ethiopia has in store”
Well the party ended well, Mr. Gold left with Mr. Truth Seven we waited back to help Rumi to clean the place etc… & I showed them my cell phone & how I have changed everyone’s name & say “finally if Oprah calls me on her show I will be able to go without any guilt” & three of us laugh at it.
Same-bay
According to Wikipedia “Mumbai (Marathi: मुंबई Mumbaī,), formerly known as Bombay, is the capital of the Indian state of Maharashtra. With an estimated population of about 13 million, it is the largest metropolis in India and one of the most populous cities in the world” but at any given point of the day you will find just the same 25 guys logged on to G4M (guys with pics)& the GDar page which does not exceed 2 pages of members online! Such a big city & so less gay guys what a shame!I think the city needs a name change -second time -from “Mumbai” to “Same bay”. Cause one just keeps doing the SAME stuff & coming across the SAME guys ever & ever.
I end up meeting my SAME friends over a weekend since we did not have anything else to do we decide to go the SAME party at the SAME Liquid Lounge, & guess what we dance on the SAME nos. End up saying hello to the SAME guys…SAME DJ…Same shifting between the Bollywood area to English Hip hop…After spending sometime on the dance floor I find a place at the bar ordering the same drinks & while I was sipping drinks I see “Black vest”.
Black vest is a party regular a 24 something hot looking guy & we have always spotted him entertaining “Goras” (white skin guys) well I think it’s a preference I did not have problem with that, but one thing that I had a problem with was he always showed up in a black vest (atleast when I had been to the party that’s like 7 times).He comes & hands over his coupon for the drink & orders for vodka with lime & as he was waiting for it I was pretending not to directly look at his biceps & awesome butt but I failed. When he got his drinks & was about to move I couldn’t stop myself, I tap on his back & ask him “why do u always wear the same vest?” he smiles & answers “It’s a secret” he comes closer to me & whispers in my ear “I am ready to tell you if you are ready to dance with me on the floor” now this was something which was really uncommon guys like Black vest don’t like guys like me neither am I fair nor muscular these things don’t happen to boy next door types. I knew something was wrong but then i thought he was just doing the “love thy neighbour boy thingy” moreover I wanted to give it a shot cause there was atleast something different happening in my gay world.
So while we were dancing I keep my senses aware as to where his hands were going .There his hands touch my jeans back pocket that’s where my wallet is after his hands moved from there I just use my hand to check if the wallet was still there, I also keep checking my front pocket for if he hasn’t flicked my mobile. While I was acting as Mr. Conscious & the DJ announced the last song I ask him about the secret .He sighs & says “well I lied there is no secret, I can say its just lucky cause I get to dance with u” I reply a bit sarcastically “Ahh… Flattery, I get it” Just then Mr. Black vest just took off his vest & handed it over to me before I ask why, he kisses on my cheek & tells me for being so sweet & goes. Half of the crowd was looking at me, I spot Ken & Rumi doing the same & go towards them & Rumi tells me to check if my wallet was fine & I give him an annoying look… & he tells Ken “What! After doing dirty dancing this bitch has just got a VEST! Where’s the whole package” that is when Ken tells me to atleast see where he has gone. I tried to look for him outside but he had just disappeared.
That night I realised maybe I was judging the city too much. Maybe there were many profiles that I missed on cause I assumed them. Maybe I had to revisit many things which I missed on…May be every thing was not the SAME in the bay & maybe it was ME who had the SAME perspective & assumptions.
Maybe I should have asked Black vests phone.
Monologue of a Gaay in the city 