An Opium Affaire

यारियाँ

2011-11-19T01:45:00.000-08:00

धागे सी कच्ची डोर नहीं

रेशम से पक्की यारी है

तू कहे तो जाँ भी हाज़िर है

यारी पर तेरी वारी है

कुछ क्षण भर का ये गुस्सा है

अभी पल दो पल तू रुसवा है

इक पलक झपक तक देरी है

फिर यार मेरा बन जायेगा

इक रात का इतना गिला न कर

जो होना था, हो चुका चुका

इक भूल हुई, इतना तो समझ

ये सर है थोड़ा झुका झुका

कुछ खफा खफा सा कल भी था

कुछ जुदा जुदा सा अब भी है

इक पलक झपक तक देरी है

फिर यार मेरा बन जायेगा

उस बोतल की सब गलती है

ये तो सब कोई बोलेंगे

गम भुला के आ, इक झप्पी पा

इक बोतल कल फिर खोलेंगे

इक रात हुई, तू रूठ गया

आखों से बादल छूट गया

इक पलक झपक तक देरी है

फिर यार मेरा बन जायेगा

इक पलक झपक तक देरी है

फिर यार मेरा बन जायेगा

Warning Sign

2011-08-30T10:32:00.000-07:00

The lyrics of this song never fail to bring tears to my eyes. It reminds me of all the mistakes I made.. with him, with me... with us. And then I came across this video. It is not the original Coldplay video release. It was made in 2006 and it went on to win the National Student Television Association Award. I see this video, and I get a lump in my throat.. wishing, I had seen a warning sign... before my life fell apart. I am doing much better now, anyway. I am happy. He is happy. :)

I am meeting him again, actually, next week on my trip to his city. Busy as we are, we won't have much time to catch up. But I am kinda glad that unlike the cliche, we made it together and came out closer than ever on the other side of my feelings for him. We are great friends today. And it feels good. And it feels nice. And it feels right :)

PS: This video has been directed by Andrew Morris. It was made by the fans, taking Adam Archer as the actor. I adored the sheer beauty and intensity of it all. And after seeing this, it just pinches somewhere inside. It hurts.Nevertheless, it is a video not to be missed.

मैं हूँ वही

2011-08-27T19:00:00.000-07:00

चल चल चलें, हम चले चलें

हम दूर हों इस शोर से

ना शूल हो, न रात हो

दिन हो शुरू नयी भोर से

जहां सोच हमारी ले उड़ान

क्या है भविष्य, ना हो महत्व

जहां ज़िन्दगी बस आज हो

खुशियों ही का बस हो समत्व

क्या गुम कोई, क्यों चला गया

रुका था कौन बस पल दो पल

इस सोच के पिंजर तोड़ दे

मैं आज हूँ, पर वो था कल

दम पर मेरे तू पंख खोल

लड़खड़ायेगा तो सहारा है

कल की आंधी को भूल जा

ये आज बस अब हमारा है

कोई रात से जब तू डरे

साथ जब कोई मिले नहीं

तू याद कर बस एक बार

मैं हूँ यहीं, बस यहीं कहीं

हम साथ हैं, मैं कहता था

अब ना सही तो ना सही

पर पूछ ज़रा उस सीने से

मैं था जो कल, मैं हूँ वही

राँझा

2011-07-30T05:11:00.000-07:00

कल देर शाम घर रोशन कर

हम राह देख बस रह गये

कुछ मोम की बस एक बाती से

हम आँख सेक सब सह गये

अब नींद से छुपते कब तक हम

उस चाँद ने हमको सुला दिया

और संग थे हम जो सपनों में

सुबह ने बस फिर रुला दिया

अब देर न कर, बस घर आजा

अरनब में कश्ती डोल रही

पल पल की ये तन्हाई भी

हँस हँस हमसे कुछ बोल रही

तुम बिन कितने दिन बीत गये

ऐसी भी क्या मजबूरी है

इतना भी हमको न तड़पा

कुछ ही मीलों की दूरी है

जब साथ में होगा तू दिलबर

जग से राँझा लड़ जायेगा

और इश्क के रंक से आलम का

ज़र्रा ज़र्रा भर जायेगा

The Candles Are All Blown Out Now...

2010-03-25T02:19:00.000-07:00

They say you get a wish
Made in that blessed moment
With the cake still on the table
And a candle for every year
You close you blissful eyes
And stretch your lips to smile
And in a single breath you blow
Them out amidst a cheer!

They pray you live an eternity
And the dancing never ends
The cake is all consumed now
And the candles are all spent
They each leave with a friendly face
A promise to meet again
The day might be done for now
But the revelry never ends.

Each promise was but broken
With the first ray next day
You left us all with dampened souls
'Twas anything but fair
As much we wish to turn the time
That blessed moment is gone
Our wish would never come true now
For there are no candles more to spare.....

I had been too disheveled to be online since a while. I lost someone. A very close friend. It was the cruel irony of fate. His birthday celebrations had hardly even seen the dawn, when he was snatched into the darkness. My heart goes out to his boyfriend. He's putting up a brave face though, I heard. It has been the worst time ever in my existance of 25 years. It was a little too much for me to bear. And i have hardly been able to deal with it. Thanks to friends, who stood bt me as support in this diffcult time. And friends, who need support like me, I just wanted to tell you, I am here!

Rohan,

Just wnt to say one thing. Whevere you are, which ever world now, we will always love you. You might be gone, but you would always stay alive in our hearts, our memories, our souls!

Miss you loads !!

Love Always,

Josh.

सिसक

2009-10-13T03:17:00.000-07:00

इन पलकों के पीछे आज
इक समुन्दर सा उमड़ रहा है
सुर्ख इस रूह की गहराइयों में
इक बादल सा घुमड़ रहा है
दिल-ए-गुस्ताखी की बक्शीश तो
उसके पास भी न थी कभी
अब भी जो साकित इस ज़िन्दगी में
साँसे कुछ मढ़ रहा है

कसक सी जगी थी इसमें
कुछ चंद लम्हा पहले जो
उस कसक के एहसास को
आज फिर वो टला रहा है
मेरे इश्क के जुनूँ से शर्मा के
कल शाम जो ढल गया था
बेशर्मी की तेज़ी से अब
पहचां को जला रहा है

जाओ न करेंगे अब
गिला कोई यूँ तुमसे
उन लबों के निशान अब भी
दिल-ए-खामोश भुला रहा है
पर इस जिस्म के हर ज़र्रे पर
उन लबों के हैं कुछ ज़ख्म
उन ज़ख्मों का दर्द अब भी हमें
पल पल यूँ रुला रहा है..

पल पल यूँ रुला रहा है

And So It Is...

2009-10-09T01:19:00.000-07:00

Friday, 2 a.m. I lie sleepless, on a bed stretched out in the warmth of a fireplace in a begrimed space somewhere in the city. While the world is unconscious of the evil spiders lurking in the dark corners of their bedrooms, I can’t seem to untangle the cobwebs spun around my mind. It grows grimmer, like a sinister maze. The threads entwine with every effort I make to undo them, for the spiders are stronger than my will. I dread the dawn. The thought of another day to live petrifies me. I panic. I can’t take this anymore. This unwarranted life, this unjustifiable existence amidst barking pillars. I find myself failing miserably to find a meaning; to find anything. My thoughts wander aimlessly. Its a dead end that I have reached. The only way out is the way back. But I haven’t been as wise as Gretel to have dropped bread crumbs along the way. I am out of choices because of the ones previously made. Stuck in mire, I feel engulfed in it more with every tick of the wall clock. Tick Tock Tick Tock Tick Tock!

O no! I see...

I spun a web,

Its tangled up with me.

And I lost my head..

The thought of all the stupid things I’ve said...

O no! What’s this?

A spider’s web

And I’m caught in the middle

I turned to run..

The thought of all the stupid things I’ve done.

I never meant to cause you trouble

I never meant to do you wrong

I, Well if I ever caused you trouble

O, No I never meant to do you harm...

[Courtesy: Coldplay - Trouble]

Akki,

It took me a long time to write this. And I am not even sure if I am doing the correct thing or what. All I want to tell you is how sorry I am that I put you through this. And all I ever want is to see you smile and be happy, wherever you are, Zurich, or otherwise!

Love always,
Josh.

Fallen... I Think!

2009-06-23T06:57:00.000-07:00

It had been nine months. Nine months since I had last seen him. A very Jim Morrison moment that was, with his one foot on the platform, and the other on the train, while he looked at me with a smile that spoke a thousand words. I, of course, stood numb, a couple of feet away; had a tear rolling down my left cheek. Well, almost rolling down! And then the train whistled viciously. He left. And I got hooked to that moment instantaneously- hooked to the way his hair smelled, hooked to the tenderness of his embrace and the bait of his lips. And the funny thing is that, back then, I wasn’t even in love… or so I thought!

The nine months were over eventually. He was to be back in town just a couple of days ahead of the most important academic exams of my entire career (which I royally screwed up!). I couldn’t go to pick him up because his mom wanted to. I too wanted to. It’s just that I couldn’t. Its like, his mom has the first right. And I tried to tell myself that the philosophy made sense. But that’s another story! What I want to speak of here is that one feeling I had when we met. It’s still inexplicable to me. In the last nine months, we have spoken an awful lot over the phone. And in those talks, we have rather frequently mentioned the phrase ‘long distance relationship’… not with any positive connotations either. It was a difficult concept for me. We were to be on different continents for the next five years. It wasn’t easy for me to just, you know… fall in love! I felt like I was in the exact situation as he was nine months ago. I had one foot on the platform and the other on the train. Of course, there was a small distinguishing detail-- He boarded the train. I was still contemplating!

In the last nine months, I had convinced myself multifold times over and again that five years is a long time to stay apart and still be in a ‘relationship’. And I actually had rehearsed the scene so many times over in my head where I would speak of it to him. And then, it happened! We met in the evening of the day he arrived. For the first few moments, there was silence. And then he smiled. It was a déjà vu. I could hear the exact thousand words again. I, of course, stood numb, a couple of feet away; had a tear rolling down my left cheek. Well! Almost rolling down! Time had stopped, in a non-exaggerating sort of way! We hugged, and I kissed him gently on his left shoulder and he let out a passionate sigh. It was in that very moment when I felt it. I was thinking, if this is what it felt like to wait for something for so long and then finally get it, I was ready to wait for another era. It was so totally worth it. That was it! All I ever wanted, in that very moment.

Well! Who knows! May be this time, it’s me who would board the train. Though I know, he is still contemplating.

Breathe

2009-06-17T14:30:00.000-07:00

Dear friends (and a few foes too!)

Apologies for not showing up all this while. My academic and social obligations had been keeping me from writing. I am flattered and gratified. The mails kept coming all this while to liberate me from my woes, even if fleetingly! I can’t pledge to be here a whole lot like before, but I do assure that I won’t ever ditch my journal! Funny thing, these memories are! Perplexingly picturesque in the establishment, and then they gradually begin to fade, yielding place for the new ones to haunt you yet again. Its so difficult to cling on to the happy ones. It’s like… a phenomenon! I don’t deny that it rains, though seldom. And for a moment, it seems that there would be verve again when I wake up the next morning. But then comes another day, with another fireball, shining loud upon the aridity, and before the water could seep through the cracks of my heart and reach the soul, it all vaporizes in thin air… every drop of it! And what’s left behind is another crack!

I can’t hardly fathom how I was able to keep away from blogging all this while. I had so much to say, to share, to ask… The fork of my mind was playing mystique! I have been feeling numb, for quite a while now. The butterflies have been nasty lately. They have been screaming. I couldn’t hold it any more. I had to breathe again! So I am here!

Where Do We Get It All?

2009-03-16T12:59:00.001-07:00

Check it out!

I was just reading random shit when I came across this masterpiece! And I was like, this should go on my blog. It so deserves it. :P

Anyway, the source can be reached by clicking here.

*Quotes*

Where Do Homosexuals Get All Their Energy?

Boy, am I beat. And it's not like I have some crazy life where I'm working three jobs and going to night school. No, I just have one job and a small apartment. I don't even have a pet to look after. Even so, it seems that no matter what I do, there's always more. If they put another eight hours in the day, I might be able to catch up on the laundry list of chores I have, or even just my laundry, if I were lucky. But you know who really gets it done? Homosexuals.

I know what you're saying: Brandon, you're just perpetuating the stereotype that homosexuals are superhuman. That is totally not true. All I'm saying is, with their boundless energy and talents, they make us straight guys look bad.

Just look at the way they dress. They must get up bright and early just to figure out how to match their homosexual outfits. They do this, plus take the time to have a nice, hot morning bath. And they eat, too. Homosexuals know that breakfast is the most important meal of the day. By 8 a.m., they are out the door, fully rested and raring to go.

For me, just shopping for a new pair of shoes is exhausting. I try on maybe one or two new pairs, and I'm ready to call it a day. But a homosexual can sit for hours in Barney's tirelessly trying on dozens of pairs, and when he finds the one he wants, why, he's ready to wear those shoes out to a homosexual club and dance all night. What vim!

And that's another thing: Even after partying all night, homosexuals must have to work a lot in order to earn enough money for their active lifestyles. After all, meals at the trendiest restaurants in town don't grow on trees. So they go to their jobs as designers and lawyers and architects and work hard to afford all these things. Their busy minds are always whirring, whirring, whirring.

They're no slouches at home, either—they always have to be fixing something. Homosexuals are the first ones to go into a bad neighborhood, buy a beautiful old building, restore it to its former grandeur, and then wait until a coffee shop opens on the block. Or they open one themselves! Do you understand? They don't even have a coffee shop when they move into the neighborhood. I can't get anything done without a cup of good coffee.

And do you know what they do after restoring a building? To the gym! They pump iron and play racquetball like they were tying their shoes. It's nothing to them. Or they go jogging in an urban riverside park and take their dogs with them. And as they do these things, they effortlessly carry on the most sparkling conversations filled with witty bon mots and juicy innuendo. That physical activity frees up their minds and gives them ideas for their next play or painting. Imagine being able to run six miles a day and make indelible contributions to the arts and letters of our country. Phew! I get tired just thinking about it!

And don't remind me about those gallery openings. After a hard day of work, I was barely able to drag my ass down to the last one. I told myself, I'm not doing this again anytime soon! But it would never occur to homosexuals to think those things. The moment I walked in, there they were, dressed impeccably and criticizing the choice of wine. They'd even prepared these fantastic hors d'oeuvres trays. Ever heard of jicama? Well, if you're homosexual, you have. It's a very tasty vegetable and, though exotic, an ideal choice for a light appetizer. Naturally!

So I ask, where do they get all their energy? Is it from all that meth? I've heard it's an epidemic in the homosexual community, and it may explain how they can charge through their day. But that doesn't seem like the whole explanation. Perhaps it's the centuries of persecution that's kept them on their toes. Or maybe homosexual sex is simply more invigorating and satisfying. Or could it be that their quest to be perfect is a way to compensate for their families' shame? It's a mystery to me! But whatever it is, it sure seems to be working.

~~

8)

PS: And here I am wondering how in this goddamn world does Brandon's acquaintance know so much about the homosexual community in such an elaborate detail. :P

Though he did say that it was an epidemic. I wonder if he has the virus too :P

Oh, and by the way, some disgruntled asshole is spamming my blog. :P
He is going to various posts and commenting anonymously, trying to flaunt his stupidity by actually making personal comments about me rather than commenting about the post. :)

Bisexuality Is Real!

2009-03-04T15:08:00.000-08:00

You know how digging earth goes, right? Like, you go a little deep, and find nothing! So you go deeper, till you hit something worthwhile to stop digging anymore? Well, it happened the other day with me. I was browsing through random blogs when I came across a blog with an interesting video on youtube uploaded by this homosexual kid wherein he orated his views about how his life would have been if he were straight! Adored the video... like completely! And of course, i find the guy too irresistible. he is so HaWwWtT! ;)

Anyway, I started digging further, until I hit the following video. Man, he is so so right. I always wanted to say what he say in this video (more or less!), but I couldn't find the right words! And I am amazed at the simplicity with which Derek said it all!

The cat is out of the bag guys! Bisexuality exists.. for real. :: Ogle Ogle ::

By the way, you can watch more videos by Derek here!

PS: I am irritated because my Belated Valentine's post is taking so much time. :(

Akki.. I apologise. I am working on it, still. I just wish I were not in receipt of a daily mental spanking so that I would sulk less and write more. :|

Mistake, Or Was It? - Update

2009-02-27T05:00:00.000-08:00

I wrote a post a couple of weeks back about a friendly soup gone sour. I need to make an update.

Well, we spoke eventually, a few minutes back! It was surprising, and a little disappointing when I think about the reason which started the conversation, but that is another story. Anyway, he told me that 'Love You' was not meant for me. It was an accident, a case of mixed up phone numbers. I know that sounds more like an excuse, but I would choose to believe him. I am sure he wouldn't lie to me at the least! I do still love him, in a more platonic fashion of course. And i hope he realized it when he read this for the first time today!

Friend : When on earth did I say 'Love You'?

Josh : Message received on Feb-7-2009, 02:19:20. And don't try and tell me that the message was for someone else, which was accidentally delivered to me. That is an overly used excuse.

Friend : That message was not for you. But you wont take it because you said it in you post. Anyways, peace out!

Josh : You know I still care for you, don't you? But after knowing that talking to me 'hurts' you more every time, I convinced myself never to call you up unless you do it first! About what the arbitrator spoke to you, I repeat, I really don't know . But the truth is that I wasn't prying. I wasn't asking anyone anything. All I ever wanted was for him to take care of you when he was in your city. You are not obliged to respond, anyway! Because I am just another guy. And about the message you sent me accidentally, I will take your word for it. I will edit the post.

Friend : Thank you and cheers!

One Kiss, I'll Die For

2009-02-20T04:03:00.000-08:00

Adorned amongst leaves, he squats behind a tree, beholding the fair lady, who sits by the window untangling her shimmering locks. Unmoving, unblinking, two eyes, just gazing at his beloved. So many times before, he had veiled himself at the same spot, and just looked up, towards the shapely window of the crystal castle, waiting for her to show. So many times before, he had seen her at the same spot, sometimes laughing with the butterflies, and at others, singing with the larks! The magnificent morning, when he saw her first, he cannot forget. Ever since then, he had stored that one golden curl, which had abandoned her blissful stature and fallen to the ground, like a pigeon’s fair feather, and every day since then, he had kissed it goodnight. Ever since then, he had stayed up all night just in an anticipation of a shooting star, to make a wish, that one day, she would amble down the castle stairs, come to him, kiss his yearning lips and reinvent him. Ever since then, he had foreseen the day, when he would be able to hum to her, his love song…

One kiss, for which I ache

One kiss, I cry for

One kiss, for which I live

One kiss, I’ll die for

Hither Princess! Your frog awaits!

Cast A Vote!

2009-02-18T01:45:00.000-08:00

Just the other day I was having a relaxed dialogue with a friend of mine, Sherry – Indian, but in London since quite a while now! In the middle of the tête-à-tête, I nonchalantly asked him if he had visited my blog of late. He responded rightly. But what he said after that got me thinking. He suggested something which had never struck me earlier ever. But it kinda made sense to me, I mean the suggestion.

“Josh, why don’t you ‘pep-up’ your blog a bit? For once, you don’t have a boring politically inclined blog like mine. It’s a Gay Blog! It deserves some frolic! Come on Joshie boi, let your hair down a little!”

Now not that I think Sherry had a boring blog (it is rather hair gripping at times!), but then may be he is right. May be I need a little mascara and eye shadow! But then, the purpose I began with this blog was to share myself with people. That dilemma inside me, I needed to give it a vent. So, the blog has always been a reflection of my inner self! On the same hand, I can’t hardly bore you guys to tears with my down in the dumps personal life all the time now, can I? So, I am thinking of ‘pepping’ it up just a teeny weenie bit. It is for that reason, I need a little help. Now for some strange reason, I cannot create a poll gadget on this template (I so need to change it!). So I had post it here. What I need is for you guys to vote from amongst the following options and lemme know what do the readers and the followers want from my blog, apart from what it already offers. Now you can choose more than one options and hell... you can add your own too :P Lol!

So, what do you think guys? What would you tell me to do?

█ Josh, add some sensual art! I appreciate beauty.

█ Josh, add some erotic art! I appreciate beauty, just like my Johnson!

█ What the hell... show me some dick! I am hungry.

█ Josh, add a few videos, you know! The ones that help single gay guys!

█ I have an idea! Let’s change your gay blog to a porn blog! *Wank Wank*

Desperately awaiting your response and suggestions, this is Josh signing off for today.

Have a happy period!

Football Season - 2

2009-02-15T07:04:00.000-08:00

And here is the next and the final game of the football season. :)

It commences from the point where season 1 left off, that is, post vanilla foreplay :P
The story continues...

The game's really simple you see..

Just sit back, and enjoy the blows...

Sometimes, it gets rough when your confrère doesn't cooperate!

The feeling is mutual!

The spirit of the game just lifts you up...

And then comes the pre-climax...

And the game... catches fire...

You try to perform your best and get the ball(s) in the right place!

(The next one is the best!! I have never attained this level of passion.. ever! :)

..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..
..

And then... the lovers, sometimes, try to celebrate the victory in the most exquisite of fashions that one can ever see! I know I haven't seen this position ever :P

What about you? :)
* chuckle *

Football Season - 1

2009-02-11T15:56:00.000-08:00

Football is a game.
So is sex!

I was making some space in my mailbox just earlier today. And I came across a long lost e-mail from a girlfriend which read "Kamasutra of Football". Naturally, I opened it just to find some hilarious images which I am posting here. Most of you must have already seen this as the mail was dated sometime in October 2005. This is for the not-so-updated and the freshly teens!

It starts with a hug!

And then you kiss!

You check yourself only to find that you are feeling... aroused!

You then try to attract your mate by displaying your strengths!

Then begins... the Foreplay!

Slowly, you undress.....
yourself...

or each other!

You can' hardly wait to have that one thing... It's Irresistable!

What happens next, you all know in your gay hearts! Nevertheless, I'll make another post... say, for the heck of it! :)

Mistake, Or Was It?

2009-02-09T16:14:00.000-08:00

PS: There is an additional update on this post. Please click here after you are bored of the following post.

A couple of months back I was busy being vicious on the otherwise dreary threads of the general forum of guys4men.com. If you know me there, you’d know all about the whacky alter-universe that I have created. I was on a sabbatical since quite some time and I had just returned to the gay dating site when I came across a familiar profile. So, as a matter of general courteousness, I dropped in an uncomplicated “Hi”, which was suitably responded to. To my surprise, he didn’t remember me. Of course I didn’t take offense to it. After all, I was just another fish in the pond! Anyway, we started sending cordial messages to each other often after that. A week later, I was having a wicked chat with a stupid fucktard (It gives me colossal pleasure to verbally screw retards! Yes, you are free to call me an asshole, who isn’t one?). And he retaliated to something brilliant that I must have said by fruitlessly trying to prove that he belongs to a superior intellect as he had the courage to upload a photograph of his facial wrinkles and other freckled features and I was yet sporting a towel around the bums and not facing the camera in the eye. I had to do something. I couldn’t have let my fans down. Finally, I replied.

“Sweetie, that doesn’t prove anything, except that even my ass has courage as your baboon face.”

Was it this remark, or something else, but my acquaintance was impressed and sent his appreciation through a message containing his private messenger ID.

<- Fast Forward ->

He confessed it after a few days. By then, we had started enjoying each other’s company, on messenger or over the phone. He said that he had initially lied to me about not remembering me, and that was because he had had a crush on me since long and my “Hi” had startled him. I wasn’t prepared for this. And I thought its better to just be candid. I told him that I kinda like someone. Nothing’s official yet, and wouldn’t be for long because unfortunately the expanse between Massachusetts and Lucknow isn’t just a courtyard, neither will it ever be. I guess he took it well. We were closer than ever-- sharing secrets like school girls. He even introduced me to another funny and like minded character on the network. But after a week, he started behaving funny! He would habitually bring my crush in the heart of a dialogue and start calling him my ‘boyfriend’, which of course is not true yet. He says he did that to pull my leg. I think it was a way he devised to laugh off his feelings for me. The relief came when he told me that he is dating someone special. I was happy for him, genuinely, till recently, when he told me that it wasn’t working out because of a hundred reasons. I wouldn’t deny that his reasons were legitimate. Then he said something which I actually was expecting!

“You know, I think I still have something for you.”

And then he added something which I could never have expected.

“And every time we talk, you hurt me all the more. So it’s better that we never speak again.”

I couldn’t react. We had been in such situations earlier too, but we always made up in exactly two days each time. But honestly, I was getting a little tired of the recurring exercise. Ergo, I said that I was a little disappointed but I wouldn’t ever wanna hurt him. So I promised not to buzz him unless he did first. It only seemed fair!

<- Fast Forward ->

I didn’t get a call even after three days. And I was worried sick. I called up the common associate and requested him not to let the word out that I rang him up. I knew how my admirer could get all worked up above the fact that “I care”! So I merely told him to take care of my friend while he was there with him. Before disconnecting my call, I repeated my request about keeping my call a secret. Exactly after forty minutes, my cell phone beeped.

1 New Message.

I read it.

“If you want to ask me something, you can ask directly rather than calling others.”

The undercurrent was too much for me to swallow. So I replied.

“I didn’t ask him anything and I don’t know what he told you. All I ever requested him was to take care of you. And you can’t really blame me for that, or for the fact that I kept my promise of not contacting you unsolicited. So before you point fingers, get your facts straight and think before u say something to anyone.”

Of course I was incensed.

<- Fast Forward ->

Yesterday, I he texted me again.

“Love you.”

I haven’t yet replied. I don’t know how to. I wouldn’t ever speak to the arbitrator bytch again. But I lost someone dear over nothing.

But I fail to understand what my mistake is!

Penguin Song

2009-02-06T03:11:00.000-08:00

You remember how every penguin has its song called the 'Heartsong'? Well, this one is mine. :)

I saw Serendipity as a kid, and I fell in love with John Cusack almost at once. He has one of the most gorgeous smiles ever. Strangely enough though, I never heard 'Moonlight Kiss' again anywhere. And I forgot all about it. Until recently, while googling something for some reason (of which you'd all learn just in a few days :), I came across Bap Kennedy's profile and heard this song again. And I was instantaneously transcended to my Neverland. And out of the night blue, there was this colossal moon shining with all his vividness, right across the valley, directly above its reflection in the ripples of the silver water, while I sat on a green hill top under a peach tree. The breeze would then travel many a miles, take My Song across many other dales and softly whisper in his ears that I am here still, and would always be, waiting for my Moonlight Kiss.

Bap - Moonlight Kiss lyrics

I can feel my heart
and it's fit to burst
try to clean it up
but i just get worse

wish i could fall
on a night like this
into your lovin' arms
for a moonlight kiss

i thought i saw your face
in the evenin' sky
on a lonesome cloud
that was driftin' by

wish i could fall
on a night like this
into your lovin' arms
for a moonlight kiss

(instrumental break)

you got someone else
maybe it's for the best
since i took the cure
for happiness

and i'd trade it all
on a night like this
for your lovin' arms
and a moonlight kiss

for your lovin' arms
and a moonlight kiss

lovin' arms and a moonlight kiss




Lyrics | Bap lyrics - Moonlight Kiss lyrics

I've Found My Voice!

2009-02-04T11:48:00.000-08:00

"Did you ever feel like you were missing out? Did you ever feel like you didn't belong? I used to feel that way... big time! I thought that by changing the way that I looked and dressed, I could plug all the gaps in my life. I wanted to be a part of something--- Anything! I didn't care what, I didn't care how. I thought that I could buy a style; a style to change me, create a new me, make me someone else. It was only when I realized how wrong I was, that I suddenly saw the person I wanted to be, looking right back at me. Now, for the first time in my life, I can see what is beautiful and what's really important. And it's all around, so close, I just have to reach out and it's there.

I’ve found my voice; show me how to use it!"

Michael Legge as Shane Butler

Cowboys And Angels (2003)

Food For Thought

2009-01-27T20:00:00.000-08:00

Firstly, apologies for not having been able to come online for quite some time! I had a whole lot of private concerns that had me tied up. And secondly, what I am going to pen down here has lately been my food for thought in my freshly depressing past. It is amazing still, because the focus matter is such which I should have pondered over a lot many years ago, like when I attained puberty or penetrated the first male ass. This is one of those unrequited scientifically not-so-explored subjects. It is funny though! In the history of science, a lot many great brains have delivered their respective theories about and conducted research on so many intricate problems, which, coming to think of it, don’t quite make for a teatime topic of tête-à-tête amongst a family basking on a terrace. But one single question, which has perplexed so many wits, is still to be explained. The irony is that it actually is a very relevant topic of tête-à-tête amongst a family. And I bet even you can’t answer the question as to why I like men.

My relationship with my father hasn’t really been something either of us would be ever proud of. He doesn’t quite fit in the category of a role model for me. True, he hasn’t taken me to watch a soccer match or ever played cricket with me. He never bought me a G.I. Joe either! Did that make me gay? With all due respect to Sigmund Freud, I doubt it, because I still had friends from the neighborhood who would occasionally encourage me for a soccer match on the streets. I suck at it, by the way! And when I wasn’t with them macho boys of mere eight years of age, I was busy playing with my shining, one and a half feet long, jazz-blue colored and remote-controlled toy car! I know its girls who like shiny objects. But look back in your future. How many of you actually preferred black to red at eight? One relevant detail that needs a mention here is that in my youth, I stayed in a joint family. It was a house full of nine kids, and out of them, only I had a penis! But more than playing hopscotch with them girls, I remember fitting appositely as a caring brother, who’d punch anyone in the face if he (sometimes she!) snatched the ice cream stick belonging to my sister. I can do that today too. They taught me to respect family spirit. But I don’t remember anyone of them giving me lessons on how to give a blowjob.

In my early school days, books were my only friends I had. And I don’t remember reading a chapter on homosexuality in any of them. I do remember hearing something about the pastor molesting a kindergarten kid (I’d so chop his balls off if I meet him again!). But that kid wasn’t me. Anyway, if at all that episode could influence me, I’d rather have been against gay sex than being indulgent. Lastly, science has anyways upheld that there isn’t anything like the gay gene. So if homosexuality is not inborn, it surely has been imbibed from somewhere. It is neither my school, nor my home and it surely isn’t the streets. I guess it could be my Neverland then; my imaginary world where it is spring even in December and which is a place of astounding beauty and bounty. That does sound gay, I know, but so does Eden with its sparkling rivers and colorful meadows. Adam wasn’t gay, of course. He had only one other to lust for- a woman called Eve. In my Eden, there is no Adam. Then why do I still lust for him?

No wonder I can’t enjoy an afternoon tea with my family!

Hanging On...!

2009-01-19T04:32:00.000-08:00

My results were declared sometime back. Its been four days now, and I am still trying to figure out what went wrong. I am a little shaken. My friends have been calling me up and pretending that they are still oblivious of the reality that I couldn’t clear the exams. But I can sense the tremor in their voices. They are pushing their best to cheer me up. And I do smile sometimes. They can’t blame me for trying!

A Chartered Accountancy examination is thought to be the most difficult examination in India. And yet, when I stepped out of that examination hall on November 16th, 2008, I was so sure that I am going to make it. Even the morning of January 16th, 2009, I was positive. I never had butterflies in my stomach, not for once. And then I saw the web page. My first reaction was, “Something’s wrong somewhere!” But there wasn’t. I had not made the grade.

I am now faced with a problem of a different kind. I cannot stay at home for obvious reasons. And if I move to Delhi again, I need a job which would, one, pay me enough to survive on my own, and two, leave me time enough to study for my re-exams this May. This trade off is impossible to manage in the current corporate culture. The only feasible solution I can think off for now is to work from home, so that I do not have to depend on my parents for every penny, and try and study in this uncompromising atmosphere.

It’s the end of January already. The weather is shifting. The temperature is rising. The climate is turning warmer. But the last four nights, have been the coldest ever. But I am quite not ready to give up yet.

Well I’m Happy, I’m Feeling Fine
I Got Sunshine In A Bag
I Know I’m Useless, But Not For Long
‘Coz Future, Is Coming On…
‘Coz Future, Is Coming On…

‘Coz Future, Is Coming On…

Falling Slowly

2009-01-13T13:56:00.000-08:00

People, who know me, know that when it comes to music, I am a fanatic metal head! Somehow, I could never look beyond the genre peculiar to Sodom, Death, Obituary and Opeth (of course, Pink Floyd is a class apart)! Any other music never quite gelled well with hashish. Its like when you blend drinks; doesn’t suit everyone, u know! Have a beer, and then guzzle down a couple of Bacardi shots, and you would immediately feel sick. Well, let’s say most of you would immediately feel sick! Likewise, listening to Jack Johnson or Joan Baez while smoking up with friends or my band mates did not seem to be a laudable idea. So we set aside the music files of the latter breed in a folder called ‘Fuck This Shit & Roll a Joint”. Over the years, that folder became redundant for obvious reasons, and I kept puffing out rings of smoke from charred marijuana leaves in tune with the rhythm of ‘Napalm In The Morning’.

About a month ago, in an online chat with a newly acquired and greatly valued pal, he sent across to me a link to his most favorite song and almost threatened me to strangle himself with yak wool (I am quite high as I write this post, and hence, I have a license to exaggerate!) if I did not click on the link, somehow kill time till the streaming is complete and actually listen to the song. His anxiety was too much for me to handle. I chose to surrender. And then I realized what had gone astray.

The music files easily stored on the hard disk of my PC are sorted into two parts—the whites, which I often listened to, and the blacks, which I never listened to. It was precisely like a grand piano with lots of keys. What went off beam was that I had started to look at the keys of a piano as mere blacks and whites. The whites I played often; and the blacks were veiled behind the carbon smoke. The blacks were there, right in front of me, but the urge to pamper the whites was overpowering. But that day, after being captivated by the song, I understood the basic fundamental. You need to actually hit the key to comprehend the difference between two of them.

I still play the whites more frequently, for they are the muse to my vision, but I now know that without the blacks, no melody can be perfected.

PS : I dedicate this post to DP, my very dear friend, who completed my keyboard. The song was called ‘Falling Slowly’, performed by personal and professional partners Glen Hansard and Markéta Irglová (OST- Once, 2007).

Lyrics:

I don't know you
But I want you
All the more for that
Words fall through me
And always fool me
And I can't react
And games that never amount
To more than they're meant
Will play themselves out

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you have a choice
You'll make it now

Falling slowly, eyes that know me
And I can't go back
Moods that take me and erase me
And I'm painted black
You have suffered enough
And warred with yourself
It's time that you won

Take this sinking boat and point it home
We've still got time
Raise your hopeful voice you had a choice
You've made it now
Falling slowly sing your melody
I'll sing along

Rent A Boy - Finalé

2009-01-11T14:59:00.000-08:00

Its not that I got talked into it or was enticed. And no, I wasn’t hypnotized either! I wouldn’t lie. It was dangerous and yet thrilling. I was anxious to see what it feels like to be a gigolo just for one day. Besides, no one denies free sex! And voila! Here I was getting paid for it. It sounded just like one of those mad sex fantasies. But it wasn’t the dough that I cared about. That afternoon, sitting at QBA, waiting for my first customer, I introspected. Even today when I think of Abhimanyu and Raghav, I immediately get reminded of Helena’s quote from ‘A Midsummer Night’s Dream’:

“Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition,
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.”

And if there was anything in my capacity to keep the berries together, I wouldn’t have flashed twice. I was exhilarated about Abhimanyu’s big step to finally go and meet Raghav in person after a long interlude of taxing soreness between them. Raghav had never been close to me. But in the two weeks prior to the day Abhimanyu left for Pune, I had been playing the agony aunt for Raghav, more on yahoo chat than over the phone. This was gravely the need of the moment. Sitting there, I was visualizing how Raghav would leap onto Abhimanyu at his first sight, kiss him passionately, and look into his eyes just to tell him how much he had been waiting for that moment, and for so long. And hell! I was already imagining them finally starting to live together. My decision to be a escort for brief (read ‘in briefs’) only seemed fair in that instance.

This might be disappointing to the readers, but my experiences with the three ladies during that week are rather immaterial. To sum it up briefly, I fucked an old hag, served a teen aged wealthy schoolgirl to satiate her fetish for sucking cocks, and made a friend. And I learnt one thing about the life of an escort. Its not always about sex! Its more than that. My third client was a newly wed, elite and really attractive lady. She was fashionably clad in the most retro style possible for a married girl when I was ‘picked up’. I don’t want to inflate my ability to figure someone out, but while on our way back to her place, her eyes screamed of woe, the reasons for which, I was yet to discover. We entered the guestroom and she offered me a drink. For a while, there was utter silence in the room, apart from the rare sound of wine going down our throats or the smoke rings I was making so professionally. I decided to break the ice.

“So, is this your first time?”
“No, I have had drinks with strangers earlier too.”
I smiled seductively. “So, can we try and know each other a bit?”
“I did not pay you for an interview, you know.”

I could feel the ire and I was not prepared for it. “Okay! So can we get to what I have been paid for rather than me making futile efforts to sock a dialogue as appetizers along with the drinks?”
I knew it wasn’t the ideal way to articulate with your clients. May be I wasn’t troubled about being sacked. May be I felt I was being taken for granted. I wouldn't ever know. Strange enough, her eyes were impassive. She did not seem to have minded my tone. And then I noticed it! She was just ready to burst out into tears.

That night, I did not have sex. I only accompanied her in bed, while she tried to believe that she was also wanted, that there was someone who needed to kiss her on the forehead before he goes to sleep. She was lonely. Her husband was on a six month long voyage, working for people alien to her. She did not want a Don Juan in bed. She just wanted a shoulder to cry on. She just wanted a friend. And I gave her that. I had to, I was paid for that. Wasn’t I?

What happened of Abhimanyu and Raghav becomes redundant at this moment. What remains unanswered is my question to you all which I asked in the first place. So now, I ask you again, and this time, in the capacity of an escort. What did I do which was so terribly wrong?

Rent A Boy - Part III

2009-01-07T19:03:00.000-08:00

The pieces had started falling into place now. After sitting and chatting with Abhimanyu for almost an hour, I was able to explain his conduct in the last three months. I knew Raghav and he had been falling apart since the last couple of months, but I had been conveniently denying it. Somehow, over the last two years, they had achieved the spot of an ideal twosome in my eyes, and I blatantly kept snubbing my blunder of judgment. Its ironic how a revelation could unscramble so many questions in your mind, and on the same hand, complicate issues more vital! In that moment, Abhimanyu spoke his heart out to me.

AJ has been an escort for over seven months now. He had quite a reputation amidst his colleagues. Max was particularly delighted to have found such a goose. His job was to deploy AJ to elite gatherings, hotels, or even private abodes in accord with the request of the client in consideration of an amount handsomer than AJ himself which was to be equally divided between him and AJ, plus, AJ could keep the entire tip, if any. In those seven months, AJ’s value had appreciated from a meager Rs.5,000 a fuck to Rs.30,000 a night! He sometimes worked four days a week too. The fact that Raghav was still in the closet and hadn’t yet dumped his folks to live in with Abhimanyu as Abhimanyu’s parents did not approve of a homosexual liaison made things even easier for him. Raghav couldn’t ever have suspected a thing! Everything was crystal now, apart from one big question. Why was Abhimanyu doing this?

“Is it money?” I asked.
“Yes…. and no.”
I waited for him to elaborate.
“Josh, I have dreams, you know I do. I want to be a journalist. I want to go to America, receive the best education there and join the best organization. I want to make it big Josh, bigger than what my dad keeps harassing me about.”

The fervor in his voice was palpable.

He paused, looked down as if thinking somewhat, and then lifted his head to look into my eyes and said, “My dreams are expensive Josh. My dad cannot afford my dreams. And I am not letting him crush’em once again. He crushed my dream to live with Raghav, to be right there whenever my baby needed me, to say ‘Bless you’ every time he sneezed, to watch him while he goes to sleep, to embrace him every time he woke up in his sleep because of his nightmare fits and tell him that I’m there, with him and I love him. He crushed them Josh! And I ain’t letting him do it again.”

By this time, he had tears in his eyes and I had a lump in my throat.

I did not try and contact Abhimanyu for quite some time after that. I could not actually. The surprise had quite not settled down with me yet. And then came a Sunday (I forgot the exact date!). In the afternoon, it was one of those moments when you are so busy with your customary chores that there actually isn’t anything critical on your mind and you are humming to yourself the tune of Coldplay’s latest hit while organizing your wardrobe. My cell phone rang. It almost felt like I wasn’t quite ready to react when I saw the name flashing on the digital screen. It was Abhimanyu.

Undecidedly, I addressed him. “Hey dude! Long time, eh? Where the fuck have you been?”
And I immediately realized that in an attempt to sound laid-back and indifferent to the obvious change in our rapport, I had gone too far and actually made it more than evident. Otherwise, usually a simple ‘Hi’ does the trick for me!

He replied nevertheless. “Hi Josh. I know. I am sorry for not having been able to keep touch off late. The last few days have been kind of hard on me.”
“Oh, what’s up?”
“Long story! Anyway, dude, how fast can you reach Hotel Ambassador?”
“Err… shouldn’t take me more than an hour. Why, all well?”
“Yes Josh, everything is fine. I need to go to Pune, to be with Raghav for a week.”
I was immediately keyed up. “Hey that’s great! How’s he doing? Give him a kick in the ass on my behalf, stupid ass forgot my birthday!”
“He’ll get something harder than just a kick in his ass man, I promise you, but right now, you need to meet me here. One hour!” Abhimanyu sounded serious.
“Sure, but what’s the deal?”
He spoke all at once then, “About that! Well, I have three client meetings in the next week, and you are filling in for me. Max wants to meet you.”

I dropped my jaw. Simultaneously, Abhimanyu disconnected the call.

Rent A Boy - Part II

2009-01-05T12:03:00.000-08:00

I was on my way to lunch the next afternoon at this address which Abhimanyu had incomprehensively scribbled on a paper napkin, in the wee hours of the morning just before I was tired of the revelry. My mind was thinking diverse things. Abhimanyu wasn’t the kind of boy who would feel curbed under communal stress and have discreet rendezvous with vaginas just for the heck of it! He really loved Raghav, I knew he did! Then who were those girls? The consideration of Abhimanyu falling out of homosexuality was absurd in more than one way. Though there was this one thing I noticed. My intrusiveness made Abhimanyu dazzlingly jumpy. Last evening, he wasn’t quite himself. His gullet lacked that sway which he usually flaunted. In his relationship with Raghav, Abhimanyu was ‘the man’. But that particular evening, I bet Raghav could have effortlessly overpowered him.

I finally reached my destination, but I had quite not arrived yet. From what I heard while even standing outside the mansion where I was supposed to dine, it sounded more than just a lunch. The music was utterly deafening, sporadically crushed down by shrill laughter. I entered, and immediately set my eyes upon two amazingly gorgeous young boys standing at the bar having a tête-à-tête. No sooner did they become conscious of my attendance than they glanced back with a mixed emotion of lust and curiosity. And when I saw the pack on the dance floor, I at once knew I was the black sheep. There Abhimanyu was, footloose with around twenty other guys

whom I would have described as Greek had I not met a real one in life. A handful of them appeared to be high on coke, with their hair swaying from one side to another, while they shook their heads to the beats of Tiesto. Then there were few others, shirtless, with the sweat making its way all through the cuts and curves of the well built chest and abdomen. A couple of north eastern duos, meticulously draped, were sitting with their legs crossed on a couch in some corner of the room, sipping their vodkas and giggling like schoolgirls. I was just checking out this particular topless hunk shaking a leg with a middle aged man, when someone clasped his hands around my waist and kissed my nape.

“Abhimanyu, gosh! I’m not your loser boyfriend”. I chuckled.
Abhimanyu stood there with a blank expression searching for an apt reply.
I did not let him respond. “Speaking of which, where is he?”
“Hush! He shouldn’t know of this. U promised me last night”. AJ’s expressions suddenly became grave.
“Okay, okay! Anyway, this is some party. You should have told me you had guests.”
He took a pause, placed his hand on my right shoulder, and then finally said, “Josh. These are my colleagues, and this is Max's house. He is my boss.”

And with that statement, he had spilled the beans. It was nearly impossible to have so many pretty boys in one organization, unless it had to do with either fashion or art. Abhimanyu wasn’t associated with either. I looked him in the eye, and spotted his mien, telling me that what I had figured out wasn’t wrong after all. Abhimanyu was an escort, and I was at a pimphouse!

PS: I take this opportunity to thank a dear friend of mine, for his invaluable inputs, without which, this post wouldn't have seen the light of the day.... I mean, the light of today to say the least :P

Rent A Boy - Part I

2009-01-01T12:39:00.000-08:00

Just the other day, I was having a dialogue with a homosexual comrade of mine, who, bizarrely enough, saw a new dimension of me since the last few months of our acquaintanceship just that day. It would be unadventurously erroneous and immoral if I call myself an ex-escort, but yeah! There was this week long episode during which, thrice I got compensated for my special services. How I got into it is another story, which you’ll read about. But the fact is that my friend felt a little scandalized and awkward about it. He seemed appalled and quickly jumped to conclusions about my character and integrity. My question is, what did I do which was so terribly wrong?

Fall, 2004. It was one of those college days, when I used to be perpetually high on the attention I acknowledged every morning after entering the college premises. Back then, I was not sleeping with men a whole lot really. It was mostly the slutty and sexy females from inside the college itself. And the day before that particular day, I had had a feral night of fervor with one of the most sought after girls from college. Now, females talk! So of course, everyone knew about it by the morning. I had arrived late that day, I remember. Was it because I did not sleep properly or was it because it was one of the best sleepovers I have had, I fail to recollect. That day, I felt like an icon walking naked in the aisle for everyone was staring / leching at me. That evening, I partied at Turquoise Cottage to commemorate my conquest.

I must have ashed out about twelve odd cigarettes and had consumed relatively less amount of alcohol, owing to the overpriced drinks there, when I saw Abhimanyu walk in, with two girls who were peculiarly too old for him to hang out with. I beckoned him. At first, he gave me a look as if I had caught him with a bag full of gold ingots which did not belong to him, but soon enough he smiled back and advanced towards me. We shared an embrace and he introduced me to the girls. And then it happened! One of them asked Abhimanyu, “AJ, does he play too?” And then, she looked at me with optimistic eyes. I felt misplaced and started hunting for a way to hide my gob smack. Abhimanyu, realizing the verve of the moment, immediately laughed it off and evaded an answer. But he knew that I had started to suspect a foul play!

Later that evening, I managed to corner Abhimanyu, and began a volley of questions which made both of us a whole lot edgy.

“Who’s AJ?”
“That would be me.”
“So let me get this straight! You are fucking around with girls who are apparently into threesomes and other kinky stuff and they almost assumed that I wouldn’t mind joining you guys?”
“No Josh. You don’t understand.”
“Well, make me understand then.”
“It’s a little complicated.”
“Does Raghav know?”
“No.”
“That’s called cheating on your beloved, my friend.”
“Josh, this is different. Trust me you don’t wanna know!”
“Oh no your highness, indulge me.”

I had not realized what I had just done. I had no idea about how the conversation that followed was going to pioneer me into a whole new world.

So Far, So Good!

2008-12-29T07:39:00.000-08:00

The year started with solipsism. I chose to be five hundred miles away from my folks, because I thought I didn’t belong. What surprised me was that mum agreed to it! She said, “Its only better that you leave!” So I left, got a job that wasn’t meant for me, but rewarded me adequately to buy me a quilt in early January, and a pack of cigarettes every few days to fuel my psyche, so that I could sustain the introspection. For three months, I did not speak to anyone from my family. Infact, I don’t think I missed them at all. Yet, I wasn’t too proud of myself. I mean you should have looked at me back then. Living in a gloomy apartment, sans my guitar or my books, yearning for an embrace, and surrounded by strangers! It never got any better!

Came April, and mum tricked me into taking a trip back home. Jesus, I fell for it! I was in Lucknow within forty eight hours counted from the moment that I heard mum over the phone, and she sounded poignant. The funny thing is no one even brought up an ounce about my sabbatical. I was welcome home in the same fashion like a mother welcomes her kid home everyday after school. Lunch followed soon and then came evening, when dad arrives back from work everyday. And within moments I was back in time. Nothing had changed. Everything was the same. It started again. The discomfiture, the clash, the hostilities, the bickering, the disputes! I looked at mum at that moment. And all I found contempt, coupled with deception from two days before. That night, I once again allowed the alcohol to devour me.

Of course, I missed my exams in May. I wasn’t ready. Not for the exams, neither for the harangue budding from the fact that my career was going to ruins and the extra academic cost was totally uncalled for. But is it my fault, really? One needs an affectionate milieu and support to focus and study. One needs that tranquility of mind which had been alien to me for long then. I tried to compromise so many times. But the disquiet at home had become a chore. The day wasn’t done without it. Dad started picking up inane issues, which he customarily and emotively allied to my incapacity to perform up to his expectation. My academic history had no bearing then. He chose to neglect the fact that for eighteen years of my academic life, I pretty much administered everything on my own. He never glanced beyond the signature box on the annual report card. All he knew was that his boy was scoring excellent grades. So I quickly adapted to the autonomy. Now, when my studies were about to be done with, he was suddenly hit with the realization that I spent more time making merry at 23 as compared to when I was 13! So, he developed a rapid interest in my daily schedule, and after all these years of oblivion, for the first time, condemned vigorously of ‘my ways’. I tried to make him appreciate that that was the way my mind and body had been functioning since ages now, which he conveniently ignored and continued with the gripe. I used to mark a calendar with a red cross for each day I got a taste of his spite for something which worked excellent for both of us till he was unacquainted. August 26th was the only day which did not have a mark. It was my friend’s birthday and I was out for the entire night. By mid September I had decided to give up chartered accountancy and take up an unintelligent career somewhere away from home which would win me bread and occasional butter, because by then, state of affairs had twisted to acute excruciation. Bless my mentor, who talked me into staying back and giving it another attempt. October went by smoothly because I was always home with a book in my hands. And yet, there were a few scarce instances when the book was on the table and I was over the phone or online or ‘taking a break’. Dad never forgot to stare in disgust. So I flushed my cell phone out in the shit pot, bashed the monitor of my computer with a baseball bat, set my guitar ablaze and locked myself in a room for one month. Strange enough, I still couldn’t study!

I was done with the exams on November 16th. I was glad, because I was expectant. The results would be out by January 13th, and my analysis of my efforts gave me motivation enough to hope for the best, despite everything hostile. So, I decided to go out for a couple of beers with friends. I came back late. It was three at night and dad was awake. As I said, the day wasn’t done yet!

Its December 29th today, and regardless of living under one roof, I haven’t spoken to either of my parents for more than a month again. Hence, everyone’s happy. Or so I think! I am still at Lucknow. And now that I reflect, things really haven’t changed. I m still living in a gloomy apartment, sans my guitar or my books, yearning for an embrace, and surrounded by strangers! And yeah… it never got any better!

Another year gone by! So far, so good!

Quote.... Unquote

2008-12-22T08:06:00.000-08:00

"Funny thing about guilt! There’s nothing so

bad that you can’t add a little guilt to it and

make it worse. There’s nothing so good that

you can’t add a little guilt to it and make it

better."

Jacqueline Bisset as Lila Montagne
-Latter Days ( TLA Releasing 2003 )

My Song

2008-12-17T17:15:00.000-08:00

In the heart of the dark, I wake up at times,

and watch the silver crescent and a million eyes,

gazing at me through the window.

How I yearn, I were with you then!

I whisper to the zephyr, and implore her

to bear my song beyond my horizons and hum in your ears,

My woe, My twinge, My ecstasy!

Mere Butterflies

2008-12-14T15:06:00.000-08:00

I must have been fourteen when I first saw an unclothed human body. Till before that, I had only read about the anatomical disparity between a male and a female body. For the first time, I tried to comprehend for real. Being a boy, you learn about masturbation, sex and the like early in life. Back then, my parents might have been scandalised to learn that even at a tender age of twelve, I could explain the term erection, that too with picturesque details, like the way its shown in a pornographic film. In a sum, I was growing normally like my other pals- watching porn, fantasizing about high school girls, cracking dirty jokes and being jealous of the smartest looking boy of the class who was more popular amongst girls than you. Little did I understand that my jealousy was directed towards the girls rather than the boy! And the day I lost my virginity, I understood why I had killed his girlfriend so many times in my head!

There we lay, next to each other, covered in skin. I could see the curiosity on her face. It was the first time for both of us, after all. And soon she asked me, “So, wanna do it?” I had a feeling that she couldn’t see what was inside my head. I was looking at butterflies! Colourful and gay! The butterflies have never died since. I am still thinking, still questioning myself. What if I had not gone all the way with her that day? What if I had never tasted the normal ways? It would have been so much easier then. I wouldn’t have been breaking lady hearts today. I could have easily told a girl then, “Sorry darling, but I like men!” Now, I have to struggle with those butterflies in my head every time I take a girl to bed.

I am, now, 24 and the butterflies turned 10 on August 26th, 2008. Every fuck I have had in the last 10 years, the butterflies have grown-- grown stronger and scarier. Sometimes, when I am alone at night, the butterflies haunt my dreams. What if they come out to the world? What if the world comes to know how colourful they are? What if the brightness of those colours makes my mom go blind? I know I cannot kill the butterflies, so I wouldn’t even try to. But they are still living in my head. And when I fail to muster up the courage to let them out, I self defend disappointingly by telling me that those are but mere butterflies!

Of Nirvaan..!!

2008-12-13T13:22:00.001-08:00

I see you standing
Amidst a crowd
Some faces known,
Others to explore.
One by one
They pass by you
Soul after soul
Some leave a smile
Some leave a burn
Some give you warmth
Some, a chill down the spine.
But when night approaches
And the crowd disperses
You find yourself alone
And introspect.

I see you thinking
In moonlit moments
About the scars
That burn and pain
I see you pine
For love and cure
For that someone
Who caresses the burn
Who calms the pain
Fills you in his arms
And kisses you gently
On your chin.
Who draws a quilt
Over your nakedness
And watches you sleep.

You look at me
With undressing eyes
Layer after layer
And I feel numb
Enchanted, complete.
Eyes whisper in silence
And shout in tears
Yours were struggling in seas
Intense for an embrace
While I felt drawn
To the empty space
Next to your soul
And then, I climb in
Kiss your nape, and say
“Sleep my love! I am here now.”

Of Akie..!

2008-12-13T10:55:00.000-08:00

I used to like the burning smell

Of charring leaves and paper rolls

A little less good

A little more bad

A little less sane

A little more mad

And then you came

Along my way

Brought winds of change

In just one day

There is but now

A freshly hint

In weed I smoke

Now there is mint.

I used to like the mesh of life

Of boys in teens and unwashed bowls

A little less clean

A little more dirt

A little less meaning

A little more mirth

And then you came

Crashed into me

Those grains of sand

Now’ll crystal be

My bowls are now

Such spic and span

From teenaged boy

I am a man.

I used to like the solitude

Of Casanovas and charming youth

A little less love

A little more lust

A little less depth

A little more crust

And then you came

So came a twist

In times we spent

I learnt the gist

That more than sweat

And bed sheets torn

I’ll find your smell

In home made corn.