Hetero-homo-phobia

I was watching the season 3 of Will & Grace on my ‘puter the other day and I saw the episode in which Jack unleashes his hetero-homo-phobia. Whaaaa? There is this episode in which Will tries to organize a educational programme against homophobia and discrimination for police men. Through the episode, Jack continuously insults a lesbian couple who volunteer to be themselves in the ‘play’ that Will writes.

I was amused. Not because of the comedy, but as to why I sort of empathized/related to Jack’s views. I’m not saying that I hate lesbians. But I couldn’t put my finger on it. Today, I received an e-mail from the GB mailing list which decimated my confusion. It showed a rather lewd picture of a soap dispenser decorated by imagery with someone’s hand having the dispensed soap.

How? What? Confused? Well, look I started thinking who could not be amused by this picture. All men, all men who liked men, all women who like men. But not women who like women.

Still don’t get it? Penises. Yes, they are not involved in lesbian sex. That’s why.

Narcissism to the fore, once more

The last time I posted something about my looks and stuff, I felt the wrath of criticism stating that I was just too self-indulgent and narcissistic. I was hurt. I went back and asked my mirror the question. But dammit, the mirror refused to answer my question if I was so. I spent a couple of weeks or so in isolation, silently brooding as to how to approach and solve this problem.

Finally I found it. It is a pimple. A small one on my right cheek (bone) really. I still have to pretend to ignore snidely remarks from my friends asking me if I was till puberty. But I have learned from my extensive medical academics that it isn’t always because of hormonal imbalances; diet, hydration, oil control of the skin and emotional state play a part

Since most of you already know that I don’t eat or drink anything worth mentioning and that my emotional state of turbulence will take another 78 years to subside, do you have some advice for taking care of my skin. Someone, from my famous ‘single pictures’ post had suggested moisturizer.

Honestly, every time I visit my supermarket, I walk across the scores of well-lit shelves of skin care products. I don’t have a clue as to what to buy. Could someone, please stand up and give me a tip or two? The more the detail, the more platonic love you can expect from me back.

Sweetness from New York – part 2

Last time I posted something about Vinokur’s sense of humor, people acted overly excited and emotional and responded with mushy comments. I was impressed both at my narrating skills and my fiance’s sense of humor. It made sense to pursue that angle and today, I got a little dose that I’d like to share.

To kick things off, my apartment was in total shambles! Again? If you ask how it gets back into such a state every now and then, I can only guess that if you just start being a little lazy and don’t tidy it up every day, it is prone to get dirty. Shoes, clothes, newspaper, dirt, the late-rat dropping behind stuff etc. Shit happens, you see.

Procrastination worked wonders until late evening when I decided to hang out with Vinokur on Skype. Don’t smirk! I know my life ain’t all that ‘happening’! It was Saturday-fucken-night, in Mumbai that is. Yet, I was at home, alone doing my chores! But, it does help when you have someone to talk to when you are doing that.

So, in about 4 hours of time, I did the entire apartment. I was interrupted by visits by Rob and S. We had to talk regarding the band and stuff, you know. And in between, I and Vinokur were talking about topics like how he was sure that all gods were Jews and hence, my delusion that he was divine looking was not so misplaced.

I was winding up my routine by mopping up the floor. For a poor southerner like me who is used to such routines since childhood, mopping is done without a regular mop – the long stick like thing with fabric at the end. I use a cloth and dip it in a bucket of water with some cleaning solution and do it with bare hands, squatting. Yes fellas, I do that!

As I was mopping up stuff and getting closer and closer to the computer, I suddenly felt naughty. Well, I and Vinokur like doing role play and stuff. No, not too kinky. Just the master, slave thing; he the Gora master and I the Indian slave. Fits in perfectly, believe me. I asked him to describe what he was seeing through the camera hoping that he would say something exciting that I can work with. And he said

‘Honey, you look funny. You look like a duck. An oversized, but thin one with brown skin. And you do know how to quack!’

I looked back at him on the Skype video window and saw him struggling to conceal a gorgeous smile.

Unbelievable day!

Some days can’t be just topped. Yesterday was another awesome day in my life; one in which I actually lived the dream of playing on the same stage as Zero. I might be repeating myself when I confess that one of the reasons for me to come to Mumbai was Zero. They made me dream; dream of being in a rock band and play live to thrill the audience. And did Shoonyas ever!

I still cannot believe the crowd response to our set. The hall was packed with about 250 people. Despite the goof-up from the event management side which sliced our performance into two short stretches separated by an hour long gap, we had a successful gig. We played well and impressed one and all and in that process, we did bring the house down! The comments that we got after the show were heartening. A few people even told me that I sang well!

It was so strange really! About four days back, Noise Market gig was such a disaster. And at Shoonyas’ gig, with whom three of (the five of) us from Noise Market play, was professional and quality stuff. The Noise Market guitarist was there to check out our show and he was totally impressed. I even think that he felt bad to realize that Shoonyas were sounding better than Noise Market.

In a way it is kinda obvious why it is so. Noise Market is full of work and pressure. Shoonyas is more fun in a relaxed manner. There is no one breathing down your neck forcing you to play and hence the performances get better. Ah, how I wish things would go back to the original ‘fun’ state in Noise Market as well.

But the best part of the evening wasn’t that. It was the Zero gig! Man, do they rock! It was promoted as one of the last gigs from the very famous and popular band. And maybe that’s why they sounded extra special! They got the crowd up and chanting and played spontaneous jams sandwiched with tight original masterpieces like ‘Roxanne’, ‘Ayaya’ and ‘PSP 12” ‘! It’s a sad thing that half of the band have to go abroad to pursue their regular careers! I hope I don’t end up doing that!

But the best part of the entire day came from a totally unexpected source. Since I don’t have the permission to let out details, I’ll be a little clandestine. A famous author/critic sent me an e-mail saying that he loves reading my blog. In the exchange that ensued, where I revealed to him the desire to write a book someday, he said ‘If you are the kind of person who believes in working hard to make dreams come true, I see at least one book coming from you!’

That’s it! What a day!

Parallel-Olympics

Earlier in the day, I watched the semi-final bout at the Olympics that Vijender Kumar lost. I felt a little sorry for him but I guess he gave his best. A couple of days before, when I first saw his footage from the earlier matches, I went; ‘Man, India can finally feel proud!’ I mean this guy is fast and looks so damn professional when he does his pugilistic work.

Paradoxically, in the media and at least in gay circles, Vijender is getting more attention because of his looks. Everyone’s opining on his cuteness and poster-boyish looks. To live up to his week long reputation of India’s latest heart-throb, Bipasha has offered him a date with her. Frivolous publicity perhaps? But guess what, Shobha De herself acknowledges in this* post that he’s the one with the potential to knock of Dhoni from the endoresement throne.

I beg, with a guitar case and my jacket laid on the streets, to differ. For me, he’s just another cute guy to pass. The real man is our wrestler! The remarkably hot Sushil Kumar who sent even my gerontized sexth-sense to shivers of excitement. I mean, check out the body! And he has that typical North Indian ‘I don’t care’ bear look. I’m not even mentioning his finer assets! This is exactly what I had in mind when I had posted about travelling all the way to Delhi or Pakistan in search of such men to get laid with. Well add a couple of decades and you’ll get Mr. Perfect-for-Kris!

For most of us in the blogging world, the closest that we get to playing sport is to sit on a couch, watch the tube and scratch our own balls. If you are the kind who would let your imagination run wild, maybe our partner’s balls (too). But I think we shouldn’t be ashamed of it! Scratching balls, in my opinion, is a respectable thing to do. You pay homage to something which deserves to be idolized. Also, it tends to make us think, imagine, dream more!

That is exactly what happened to me. I started thinking about disciplines in which I could compete in a parallel-olympics and win a medal for India. I’d say I could win a gold medal in sex with men over the age of 50! Mabye I could also win a bronze in Long Distance Relationships. Definitely a gold in going to a supermarket and not buying anything after spending 2 hours! What would you guys win in?

Q: Which custom-made event would you strike gold in for your country had such an event been allowed in the Olympics (in a parallel universe)?

Examples – Blogging, Sex (any type of), Sleeping, Being Lazy, Love, Networking, Chatting, Baking a cake, Knitting, Shopping, Movie watching, etc? Remember you could be part of team events as well. If you want to comment on someone else, go ahead and do it?

This photo, although not totally related to the post, is actually from the Olympics. Wouldn’t it look great on a Mills & Boons gay edition’s cover?

(Image courtesy: Vijender – Tribune India, Sushil – Mumbai Mirror and the last one, Internet)

(* – Updated on 3.13 AM on the 23rd of August, 2008. Thanks to Oxy for pointing it out.)

The fantabulous Indian family – for the gay guy

I and my sister have been great friends from childhood. She has been very, very supportive in everything that I indulged in. That changed since she married. It was an arranged marriage and she had a lot of problems. I tried my bit to help her out but soon understood that she didn’t want me to try and help. We had a couple of years of are rather ‘cold’ phase in our relationship. But we managed re-bond in the last couple of years or so. I happened to come out to her around this time as well only to find out that she and my brother in law have been snooping around in my blog for a long, long time!

Anyway, she called me yesterday after a week or so of inactivity. As usual, we were catching up on each others lives with the occasional update about our parents and our relatives. Pretty boring stuff you know. Suddenly, I remembered that I had not told her about the pride march and my interviews to the press.

‘By the way’ I said, ‘I attended the gay pride march last week. And guess what, I gave interviews to the press. I even gave interviews to a Malayalam channel!’

‘What?’

‘Didn’t I tell you that I was going be there for the pride march? Oh, you aren’t aware of what a pride march is actually?’

‘No, I know that. But, when are the interviews going to air?’

‘In all probability, it has already been aired. Nobody has called me yet.’

‘Well, be prepared for the consequences.’

I asked her ‘What?’ In my defense, the cell phone connection wasn’t all that great. There was a lot of noise at both ends as well. She repeated the same sentence. I didn’t understand the word at all until the third time. When I did understand it, I gathered my defense mechanisms up and said

‘Well, I guess I am willing to face them. But I must confess that it’s weird to receive a threat from your sister.’

I tried to change the topic and asked her why she isn’t coming to Mumbai to visit me. She said that she was busy and can’t find time to visit me. The conversation withered from then on and we hung up soon.

This led to me thinking what atrocity that I’m receiving just because I’m gay. To contrast it to those so-called ‘normal’ straight peoples lives, answer these. For the average straight reader – What would your sister do if you have fallen deeply in love and you wanted to marry this person? Wouldn’t she want to meet up with this person? Wouldn’t she want to spend some time together with you two?

The facts – It’s been more than a year since I fell in love and it’s been more than a year since I saw my sister. The only time that Vinokur has talked to my sister is when my mobile phone was stolen and I wanted him to inform her that it was the case. That too, because of my persuasion. The couple of e-mails that Vinokur had sent to my sister were never replied to. When Vinokur was here, my sister didn’t even bother to talk to him. And my brother in law has visited the US at least thrice without bothering to meet Vinokur.

Welcome to the fantabulous Indian family (for the gay guy)!

And to think that this happened on the same day as I saw this wonderful artcle about gay marriage. Hmmph!

A Reminder – Shoonyas Live!

For those in Mumbai, who have all their evenings barren with nothing on their agenda (the sorry souls), might find this useful. My English rock band Shoonyas are playing tomorrow at D’ultimate in Andheri (W). We will be playing along side a couple of other bands, one being Zero. If we don’t offer you any attraction, at least Zero should.

If you are wondering what we play – well we play acoustic covers of songs by Police, Aerosmith, Duran Duran, Metallica, U2, Oasis, Nirvana, Hoobastank, Nickelback etc. All kinds of people (yes – men (24), women (19), adolescents (12), old people (2), midgets (1) etc) have attended our gigs and felt satisfied (mildly, at least).

The entry is free. We show is scheduled to start at 7.30 pm. Feel free and drop by to enjoy some good music. Plus you could always watch me strike weird mouth positions (and gestures; like this) while attempting to sing (in vain). Just give me a buzz on the blog/e-mail after you decide so that I can prepare myself to meet you. (Add this event to your FaceBook.)

(PS: For your convenience, I have started a gig calendar on the side bar so as to avoid such embarrassing posts.)

Hair fall solutions?

I come from a family of men who are bald, obese and generally ugly. The obesity part is manageable with some dietary adjustments, exercise and wisdom. Ugliness is subjective really. I’m not saying that I think I’ll pass of as a model or anything but yeah, I look decent. The only thing that I am scared of is getting bald.

Why, all of a sudden? Well, the story is that in the past few months I have been losing hair. Not in the typical androgenic balding pattern. But I think I’m getting generally thinning. It is evident in my apartment clear white tiles as I broom everyday. It is evident in the bathroom drain sieve as it gets clogged every now and then. A scary thought – my father who’s entirely bald and almost Mr. Weatherbee-esque had hair like the Parachute ad-models until 30. One deluge of hair and he turned bald.

I have reason to believe it is rather wide-spread and not necessarily limited to the scalp as there are much shorter, curlier hairs in my dust pile after brooming. Aaargh? Nope, wrong there. I’m a semi-hirsute and it must be from the pectoral region.

So what do the wise men and women of the blogging world have as suggestions to me?

(Stats: 28 year old, non-vegetarian who hardly has enough money to eat. Don’t smoke. Hardly has alcohol. I drink about a litre of water. I sleep irregularly and worry a lot. I prefer coconut oil to anything else for hair. I use conditioner and shampoo (regularly) about twice every week. Pantene and Garnier are my preferred brands. I used to use hair gels when I went to the hospital.)

Gerontophobia

I’m tired of people saying stuff like ‘Hey, look at that ‘uncle’… he looks so gross. I don’t feel like bathing (in the pool) now. I wish he weren’t here.’ & ‘Look at her, she’s half dead. I don’t want to be talking to such an old woman.’ & ‘You know what, I saw this band from Kolkata. They are all ‘uncles’ and they play classic rock.’ & ‘Arrgh! How can you even think of having sex with an old man/woman?’

I have heard a lot of this stuff, believe me. Yes, I’m predisposed to such comments because I like older men and I have relationships with them. But I have a question – How could you be so judgmental/critical/biased about a particular subset of the society? What if it is your uncle/aunt or your father/mother? Even better, what will happen to you yourself when you get older?

In the gay circles at least, it is hypocritical to say something like that. Why? Because we demand the rest of the society accept us for what they consider as weird/abnormal/unnatural. So how on earth can we say something like that to an elderly person? Aren’t we discriminating because of age just like we are being discriminated because of our orientation?

Because of this conundrum, I’m skeptical about telling people about Vinokur’s age. That’s okay compared to taking him out on a party. What kind of comments will people make? More importantly, wouldn’t he get affected by all that? He claims that he can ignore such comments? But can I? Can I stand the insults to someone that I love more than myself?

Call from Mom

I got a call from my Mom yesterday. She and my Dad had just read the Rolling Stone magazine story (post) about Noise Market. Mom said

‘It’s nice. I’m happy for you.’

There, not too elated. Not too happy. It sounded more like

‘Ass, look you were much better off being the average doctor than a rock star.’

She continued

‘Your Dad’s saying that his name is coming on the newspapers and magazines without him doing a thing.’

There are two issues here.

• For one thing, folks from down South in general, refer to their spouses in third person. Why do they need to do that?
• This, by the way is the problem with people from South India. ‘Kris Bass’ is actually the ‘Kris’ from ‘Kris Kum’ (which actually is my name) and ‘Bass’ is my Dad’s name. In mags like RS, they have to have a surname. In my case, my Dad’s name.

She added

‘Your father didn’t recognize you in the photo. He says that he doesn’t think that it’s you. I recognized you immediately!’

That’s the only heartening thing really. At least my Mom recognizes my bearded-moustached-long hair look. Maybe she would also relate more to my coming out.

I actually expected them to say something about seeing me in the pride march on Mallu television. But then, I came to know that the television set at home is under repair.