Confessions of a kissing slut.

So I stole the name from one of the many Orkut communities I belong to...And weirdly, one of the only communities I actually deserve to be in...(Besides the Bandra and Bombay communities...Oh and the Sushi Lovers and Tea Snobs communities..and how could I forget the Terminally Single community?) Cause you see, I am a kissing slut.

I love to kiss. It's intimate, sloppy, loving, gross, exciting, exhausting, desperate, calm, intriguing, exhilarating, wet, slow, quiet, quick, noisy.....eveything rolled into one. When it's done right. I've kissed good kissers and bad, new kissers and experienced ones, girls and boys. What can I say? I love to kiss.

Frequent readers will know my best kiss ever (I remember it down to the question I asked him before he grabbed me and kissed me) was on the bridge accross the Charles in Boston with Jay. I asked him if he'd seen a prettier full moon sight (the buildings of Harvard lit in the moonlight), to which he replied (grab) "smooch". It was a perfect example of the first date kiss. Not too much tongue initially. Perfect interlocking of lips. Noses well out of the way. Accurately judged tilt to head so as to achieve maximum contact. Just bloody perfect. And not to forget a strong arm holding you as he tilts you down till it's all thats holding you up apart from your buckling knees. Sigh.

M. and me had the perfect car kiss the night I was to leave Boston and America forever. The song on the CD was perfect (he made me a mix). It was "Everytime you go away..you take a little piece of me with you". The lean-in to open my door (he would not see me agian for 7 months) and the accidental brushing of his lips against mine...the little bites of my lower lip becoming an urgent probing (tongue fucking sounds too crude) of my mouth. Hands touching, reaching out, grabbing. A hand reaches into my hair and yanks my head back so that the kissing can get a little more rough. I cry out...in Pain? in Pleasure? I don't know. All I know is that I don't want this to end. It ended. It always does.

My first kiss was with Maneeza Hossain - The Bangladeshi girl next door when I was at UVA. Sitting on the porch, making stilted conversation with a girl I had only just met that evening. She asked me to light her ciggie and as I leaned in to light it, she grabbed me and kissed me. It was quick, brutal and ... hot. Here I was believing that men take the lead and here was this girl sticking her tongue down my mouth. Very confusing. Very awkward. I thought the gentlemanly thing to do was ask her if she wanted to date now that we had kissed. No, she said, I was just horny. I know how she feels now.

A mior quibble though. I understand the kisses on both cheeks that the French and the Arabs favour. I however can't seem to understand the kiss on the mouth favoured by gay men to greet one another. I mean, Helloji/Welcomeji but I just don't want our lips touching Uncleji! This is why I tend to jerk my head back when I meet a gay aquaintance...I'm just afraid of the ambush kiss. An ambush-kiss with tongue? Even grosser! I once had a succession of (what I'd charitably call) "Vikster's worse nightmares" kiss me on the lips at a party. I had to rinse my mouth out with a couple of vodka tonics...(Sweetie..I am gay!). Shudder.

And my favourite. The unexpected kiss. I had one recently. Talking to someone I was on a date with and walking side by side downtown. This is the Gateway of India, I said. It's fantastic and ..so are you, he replied....held me by the waist, and kissed me. A quick peck on the lips. No tongue. No teeth. No nothing. Just a light brushing of lips and a caress of my face.

We walked away together. Why was I smiling?


Current Music:
Superstar - Jamelia.

I don't know what it is..that makes me feel like this...(This song is frikkin' addictive!)

Allergies! Boohoo!

I'm weeping as I type. I'm also crusty, snotty and generally unattractive right now (Take me now Lord!). Thank you End-Of-Monsoons! Gone are the damp, humid days and here come the duststorms and heat of October. Along with every f'ing thing that makes my life a living hell.

Hmm. Let's see what I have to look forward the next month or so:

Dust: Bombay's gift to the world.

Paint fumes: From the construction ALL over the place (Honestly, can anyone actually afford the flats in Bandra anymore? Or am I the only poverty stricken/sleeping on dad's couch/eating mom's food/budgeting young guy in this area?). On the other hand, I have seen some rather buff construction workers around. Pros outweigh the cons here....

Cigarette smoke: It's either me getting used to it, or having to axe about 75% of my friends list, about 95% of my hanging out places and about 10% of prospective boyfriends (Smoking boyfriends? NOt unless they're "smoking..hot". Then again I bent the rule for M. and I have been rather lax on dates recently....this is what happens when you get older. You compromise on what you want. Sigh.)

Pollen: Bhagwaan tera lakh lakh shukar hain (in Hindi film Nirupa Roy ishtyle) that we don't have oak trees in Bandra. I am deadly allergic to Oak Pollen (Stupid America! Made me allergic to all the weirdest things - Oak trees, miso, Celine Dion..)

Grass: NOT the fun kind...I'm *SO* not allergic to that. Though it has like NO effect on me at all. I must be one of those people who inhale incorrectly..comes from being a non-smoker I suppose. I mean the common green variety that is ALL over the place here..I think they call it Congress Grass.

So I'm reduced to almost continuosly weeping and sneezing. I didn't cry this much when Jugal Hansraj accidently yells "Mummy" and Shabana Azmi gives him the vicious "Main tumhari Mummy nahin!". Or when all those satyagrahis get their heads bashed in at the salt works in Gandhi.
Instead, I have tears in my eyes as I inspect the coffee list at Coffee Day. I sneeze as I spot a particularly well-favoured human specimen (I think G-d is a Punjabi. Why elese would he give them such awesme bods? Then again, they almost alwyas have no brains.Hmm.). I have to blink away and scratch at the crusty eye boogers just as some cutie leans over and says Hi.

I'm going to die alone and sneezing. (Today's record: 52 sneezes on a 6 minute walk to work).

On the plus side (*This* is your plus side??), I finished Vol 5. of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire and have begun Vol. 6..I'm excited..though I suspect I know the ending already. I got shit from a "friend" for only reading this to appear intellectual. I'm so mad I challenge any of you to ask me a question Re: the books. And I'll show y'all. As we said in Std. III, I'm GodPromising you. MotherSwear FatherSwear.

Current music:
Nothing.

I'm sneezing so hard my headphones keep slipping out of my ears.

Stop thinking about it!

The Archster said something to me while we chatted last evening. Stop thinking about stuff so much. Just let things be/happen and they turn out for the best usually. Meenakshi (my conscience/my arbiter of style/my fellow Bandraite-Bostonian) also concured. This leads me to believe that I tend to over-analyze situations. And wonder what someone meant when they said that...or whether they actually meant to say this instead.

Also Ruchi's mania for wanting lists of stuff has gotten to me. As M. pointed out during our relationship, I tended to have a list for almost everything in my life. So why not one more I ask?

Here's a list of the things I'm obsessing about this week. It's all true. I'm just *that* weird.

1. Television issues: Being outside the US now, I can't keep up with my favourite shows. Instead I'm forced to watch Season 1 all over again here in India. All this while newer and more awesome shows that I'll never watch are premiering over in the States...(Rome on HBO! Martha-The Apprentice) I'm even missing out on older shows..I swear! If I have to watch Will And Grace Season 4 again, I will kill someone at Zee Cafe! (*obsessing about last episode of Friends and current season of Will & Grace)

2. Apartment issues: Just where does a poor but incredibly attractive gay man find an apartment of his own for 6000 Rs a month? All those who said Andheri (E), to the back of the class please. I have so much crap still sitting in a storage facility in Boston...I swear, if I ever got a place to live in, it'd be the best looking/decorated place in Bombay...the envy of all who spend the night in my bed.

3. Pimples: I'm 28. I stopped going through puberty 13 years ago. Why Oh Why do I still get pimples/zits? I have three pimples on my cheek and forehead and they're getting to that stage where squishing them is going to be sooooo incredibly satisfying....(I know what I'm gonna be doing tonight!). But still, How yucky is this weather/pollution if people like me who wash ALL the time can still retain enough oil in their glands to reap a fine crop of zits?
I mean, President Bush is thinking of invading my face just for the vast resevoirs of oil that seem to belong there!

4. Will he call?: He called. Obsession over. Me happy. Me also smiling so much that I is incapable of forming grammatically correct sentence.

5. Nothing to wear: An entire Godrej cupboard full of stuff (Yes American friends, we middle class Bombayites don't have closets) and I still can't find anything to wear. Amma threatens to chuck the whole lot out to some tsunami victim (A Nagapattinam fisherman wearing Dolce Gabbana? Quelle horreur!!)...
I still haven't found a decent pair of black shoes and flat front trousers. The trials and tribulations of being TheHotVikster!

6. To shave or not to shave: Women find the unshaven look hot (Thank you Abhishek Bachchan). Men don't care (Seriously, once you're naked, it's all just academic anyway!). I'm obssessing whether to compromise and do the hipster goatee thing...but I always misjudge and end up looking like a Mullah. If you knew your average Konkani family, a Mullah-look is not going to make you many friends. What to do???

So many issues, it's a mystery how I manage to keep my shit together. Oh yeah, talking about it to the assorted women in my life helps..(Thank you Meenakshi, Archster, M., J., A.). The mendon't get it. I must be one of the only men I know who analyzes stuff to death. Anyone else who does...email me. We'll obssess over our emails to each other together (Now why did he use that font? And is he really "LOL"ing? I think that emoticon was just to impress me..)

Current Music:
Just Chill Chill - Maine Pyar Kyun Kiya

(I HATE this song. I LOVE this song.)

The first date..

I have fantastic first dates (as I was explaining to Meenakshi at 2 am last night). It's just the follow-through into relationship-mode that I have such a hard time getting to. Why first date? I manage a healthy fun hanging-out and getting-to-know-you session all the way into the 3rd or 4th date when sex and emotions begin to complicate things on my side...

I love everything about a first date. Right from setting it up (and making sure the other party KNOWS it's a date and you're not just asking him out for dinner to become friends with him or whatever!) It's happened to me more times than I care to remember so now I'm all clinical about making sure "Well, this is a date you know!" or "How about we go out to dinner on a date?". Still I goof up sometimes like I did last night with S. Apparently he didn't know it was a date (cause in my flush of excitement of dating un Juif, I seemed to have forgotten rule #1. Make sure he know!), so he was quite surprised when I asked him out again for Date #2. His exact words? "A date? Why not! I think you're a great guy. It will be nice to go out with you". (Umm...and what was yesterday then, sexy Jew Man?).

Setting up the date.
Choosing what to wear to accentuate your best features (I avoid glasses, then when I look soulfully into my date's eyes, he can see just what whirlpools of undying love my eyes are...).
Taking out the "date underwear".
Planning your escape route if the dates ends in flames and tears.
Making sure you know where all your friends/competition are so that you don't run into them on the date.
Keeping a spare 500 Rs. handy just in case your date has expensive tastes in booze.
And above all; deo, mouthwash and cologne. (I end up smelling like a distillery before I leave. Have to sit under a fan for a bit to diffuse the scent!!)

And then finally, you're sitting in front of your date. Making great conversation (prepare and research date beforehand! It pays rich dividends). Being flirtatious without being a whore. Laughing easily and often. Eating and drinking sparingly (I always keep a full meal in my fridge at home for after-date dinners....I'm ravenous after a fun date).

And then you end with a walk..where you do the joshing around and the playful hits on the back...which soon turn into a little more touchy-feely. And before you know it, he's kissing you under the Gateway of India.

Thank you S. for a marvellous first date. Je sais maintenant pourquoi j'aime les juifs francais!


Current music:
Step by step (Toy soldiers) - Eminem

(Though as I'm listening to this song, all I'm actually playing in my head is the dreadful video for Disco 82....WHY G-d WHY!!)

Party time (redux)

So after vowing to go to the GB party drunk (It helps with rejection, I find), and failing to convince Meenakshi to be my date (I think it's because I'm gay....), I found myself at Velocity last night surrounded by some of Bombay's finest (Surely you jest my lord!) and fashionablest young men of an alternate sexual persuasion. Sober as a parson. And with nary a strong drink in sight. Or a date for that matter.

Still, I put my best game face on, and strode in to the tune of Woh Lamhe (which is such a sad song..I mean, the techno beat is allright but the emotions it draws up in me? Boohoo!!). Spotted my friedns in the dark (well, dark with disco-bally lights flashing and momentarily blinding me so I found myself squinting at several umm...not so cute guys trying to figure out if they were cute. Oy! Very embaressing. Had to get out of 2 conversations by pretending I spoke only Hindi (It's good to know there are still some honest-to-G-d snobs out there!).

Picked up my drink-du-nuit...Rum and Coke if you must know and found my place on the outskirts of the heaving, throbbing mass that is a gay Bombay disco party. Lots of air kisses and friendly (and yes, not so friendly as well) waves later, I'd managed to spot 5 friends, 3 assholes and 1 arch-nemesis. I think everyone needs an arch-nemesis. If this word doesn't exist, bear with me. The feeling surely transcends words.

Time for a confession. I can't dance to save my life. I'm a bad gay man. I can't dance, I look terrible in sleeveless vests and I love junk food. I'm about 50 hairs short of being a pot-bellied Gujju broker chewing paan masala. And the music they play at these parties does nothing for my confidence either. Especially when I see the dolled up little Call Centre Chokras (CCCs) doing their meticulously rehearsed dance numbers to all the "item numbers". Anyway, to cut a long whine short, I just sorta jiggied about a bit till they played something I could actually dance to...50 Cent! Woohoo! I was all CandyShopping and GoShawtie'ng all over the floor...alone of course! How much fun is hiphop eh? I think I'm going to go to Redlight this Wednsday for some booty shakin' and big pimpin'.

Word to the kids out there: DO NOT introduce any love interests/prospective lovers to anyone at GB till you're absolutely settled. Preferably with 2.1 kids and a chocolate lab. (Well, that's the American Dream..I guess the Desi equivalent would be 2.1 bedrooms and an inquisitve mother) This at the risk of having him stolen from right under your nose by a hotter, richer boy with jeans that ride lower than you thought was humanely possible.

Trust me. It's happened to me more times than I care to remember (OK 3 times. I dwell.)

Anyway, met and had an awesome conversation with S. (another one) in French no less. I was complimented on sounding very Montreal'ian with my accent ("Very much Bandra" I replied!). Anyway, il est Juif et j'aime beaucoup les juifs!! Must call him this afternoon methinks. Better brush up on Talmud and Maimonides before attempting to ask him out.....

All in all, a fun evening. I didn't get drunk, I went home alone to a nice Konkani meal of rice, dali toi and jeeva kadgi sukke..and slept listening to Enya. Bliss.

Current Music:

The Celts - Enya

I feel very much in the soothing Enya-esque mode this afternoon. Perhaps it's onto Clannad and then some Deep Forest in a bit. Boheme is such an awesome album!

15 random facts..

About ME!

(Thank you Ruchi for the idea...A narcissict like me waits for such gems!)

1. I would have rather been an architect. Or a chef. Well, a chef with his own TV show that is!

2. My best kiss was on the bridge accross the Charles in Boston. With Jay. We kissed and then spoke in Finnish (I was learning Finnish at the time..forgot most of it now). It was so good, I had what I like to call my Scarlett O'hara moment when I just melted into his arms. Literally. My legs were all weak and my hands were all tingly.

3. I have never dumped anyone. Ever.

4. 3 movies that make me cry - Masoom, Gandhi and Born Free.

5. Winter is my favourite season. Specifically, winter in New England. The absolute silence that follows a heavy snowfall, the darkness at 5 pm, the clothes..OMG! The clothes!!

6. I love meeting new people but am terrified they'd talk about me after I was gone.

7. I named my (yet, unborn) children when I was 7...and have stuck with those names all these years.

8. The sight of cream makes me physically ill. If I see it on my tea, I get dry heaves.

9. The sight of women smoking or swearing puts me off. Strangely, I don't mind seeing men smoking or swearing. Double standards? Perhaps.

10. I never have so far but would love to try cocaine just once.

11. I contemplated suicide twice. Just for a day. Once when Erich dumped me and once the night M. dumped me.

12. My biggest fear is dying alone and unloved. Followed very closely by drowning after a ship capsizes.

13. I can and have watched TV for an entire 24 hour stretch (with very short/limited bathroom breaks). It was the Ab Fab marathon...and despite owning all the DVDs and having seen them about a million times, I still watched EVERY ONE of them in a row.

14. I hated Lord of the Rings. Absolutely hated it. And I fell asleep in all 3 of the movies.

15. I secretly think my face is cute. And fantasize about making out with my identical twin (Oh hush! It ain't incest if it doesn't exist!)


Current music:
Drop it (like it's hot) - Snoop Dogg featuring Pharell

This is like my favourite gansta rap right now. What a pity no one else around me likes this kind of music. It's totally sex music yaar!

So in love...

With a lot of things nowadays..Weird things. Little things. Things that make me go Hmmm..OK the last one was a just kidding moment..that used to be a song..(Salt n' Pepa?) that I loved when I was an impressionable teen. That and Shoop! Though that was more because of the hottie black guys in beachwear who were EVERYWHERE in that video.

*sighs as he recollects days spent on the beach in Goa making out with M. and checking out assorted Israelis and Finns*

Anyway, here are (in no particular order) things that I'm in love with right (7.38pm IST) now:

1. Samosas : Specifically Punjab Sweet House samosas. As I type this out, I'm biting into a piping hot, slightly oily samosa (One of a dozen I will consume by the time I head home). That's the danger of working right above a junk food takeaway joint. (Readers from Boston will recollect my drives out to the Framingham temple just so I could visit the samosawallah in the Desi store nearby).

2. Rains late at night : I have been woken up the last few nights by the sound of rain lashing down on Bombay's unprotected streets. It's romantic, cool (temperature wise) and luvverly to look at sitting in the balcony. Of course, my more civic-minded readers will feel sorry for the 6 million people who sleep on the streets of Bombay, but eh! It's romantic. Nuff said.

3. James Mitchener : I have all but 2 of his books. And the more I read and re-read, the more I'm growing to love this author's amazing story telling abilities. I wish I could write like him. I wish I could BE him (OK maybe not..cause then I'd be dead). My favourite book? Probably a toss between Poland and Covenant. The Source was good too (well, for starters, it almost converted me to Judaism..till I heard of the circumcision requirement).

4. Anonymous/Duncan Hynes : So far, his comments on my blog have cracked me up. He like totally gets me and stuff (OMG! I'm a Valley Girl!). It's driving me up the wall that I probably won't ever meet him (My imagination makes him a Pakistani guy with a crush on me who divides his time between New York and Karachi....am I right?). I mean, who else besides me knows that I'm Grace Adler when it comes to buffets? His last comment led me to wonder if he's been secretly stalking me as I gorge on the buffets of Bombay!
Marry me Duncan!

5. Politics and Elections : No, Meenakshi, I didn't say eRections. I've been glued to the idiot box (Well, I watch it..and I'm no idiot!-----> said without hint of irony) watching the returns come in from New Zealand (Helen Clark again!) and Germany (Will the CDU and SPD form a Grand Coalition? *bites fingernails and waits*). I now realize just what an election junkie (still "election" Meenu!) I am. Can't wait to ink my finger (Minds outta the gutter y'all!) at the by-elections (Hehehe! "Bi" election!) for Bombay North West in November..

Hmm.
That's 5 things. I think I'll have a different set of things to love in a few hours starting with myself (Yep. Still no action.)

Current Music:
I can see clearly now (the rain has gone) : Otis Redding

This song is so fucking feel good that it almost sounds like a Baptist anthem...OMG! It IS a Baptist anthem!! I'm so going to hell now.

Thankful for:

I found some old Thanksgiving photos of me when I was back in the US..and I remembered awesome family gatherings or lunch with friends where I went over a list of things I'm thankful for..Got me thinking about what I'm happy and feel blessed for today. Here they are (in no particular order):

1. An awesome family : Even if they can get a little exasperating at times..I'm just grateful they're not as conservative and uneducated like some of the people I meet.

2. A great group of friends : Sometimes I almost tear up thinking about how it is to have such acccepting friends. It takes a lot to have people change their viewpoints about a particular "lifestyle" but I'm just incredibly lucky to have intelligent, liberal and fun friends. Especially when I talk to people who're petrified about coming out because they're so afraid their friends will abandon them.

3. A winning personality : OK so this sounds remarkably vain but I'm learning to appreciate the fact that I'm an extrovert and am well read. It makes such a difference when it comes to meeting people. The minus point is that I look for the same in a prospective boyfriend...and find Bombay sadly lacking...(well, maybe ;-)

4. Am middle class : Comfortably middle class that is. When I read horror stories about poor people during the recent deluge in Bombay, I was horrified at just how soon your comforts and life can change. And when I meet people for reasonably well-off backgrounds, I'm just amazed at how cut off they are from the rest of society. And the attitudes! Oof!

5. Am healthy : When i consider that my deadliest illness so far has been chicken pox at the age of 20, I count myself very lucky. Especially when I consider I've been wading through the encephalitis, malaria, cholera, lepto infested monsoon waters every other day.

6. Am eclectic in my tastes : When others talk about Britney and 50 Cent, I'm able to (not that I always do) talk about Fairuz and Articolo 31. When people read Maximum City and God of Small things, I'm (along with them) also able to enjoy a biography of Mussolini and the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (Newsflash: I'm done with Vol. 4....onto Vol. 5 and the Rise of the Turks)

7. I'm a Bombayite : Thank you G-d! And I absolutely love it as well. And for Bandra....

There's so much more I want to be thankful for and so much more I regret. But the good mood I'm in thanks to a particularly fun series of dates with S. on the weekend (very chaste..surprisingly!) isn't letting me think about anything I regret. Perhpas when this ends like everything else in my life in a flash of light and series of small fires, I'll blog then!

Current Music:
Won't the real Slim Shady please stand up? - Eminem

(*makes hiphop guy poses and scares co-workers*)

Weekend in Pune

I spent a very enjoyable weekend in Pune and Lonavla shopping, eating and hanging out with friends. Bought *chatai chappals*, Shrewsbury biscuits and ginger snaps..and felt very Bombay-superior the whole time. Honestly, our dress sense is so much different from theirs....and we're only 200 km away!

I went to the Gay Pune party as well..boy! How different was that compared to the mayhem in Bombay. For a change there were only like 70 people there...it almost felt like an intimate party with friends. And it didn't hurt that I was the most attractive one there (OK I kid, I was like the third most attractive guy there). What amazed me was how aggressive the Puneris were in coming up to you..makes such a welcome change from the wallflowers/attitude-wallahs in Bombay. I was having a great time dancing (an uncrowded dance floor? MY DREAM!) with friends from Bombay and I had like 3 guys come up to me one after the other. Then again, they made me laugh so hard, I spilt my drink done one guys pants. Laugh..not at them, but at their approach (though full marks to them for trying..that's more than I could have/would have ever done).

The basic approach was "Hi, are you from Pune? No? Oh, Bombay! Nice. Well, I like kissing and body sex. Do you want to do it in your car or in your hotel?". Short and to the point. Nice I guess, sure beats all the co-ordinating, mindless chatter and glazed looks on dates.
Sadly for them, that's exactly what I'm looking for. Dates. And the approach really tickled me. I just had to laugh. And spill my drink, and then drink some more..till I found myself back in my hotel room (alone!) in a happy buzzed state.

But strangely, I felt awesome. I felt so free outside Bombay...didn't have to worry about what to say to whom, about who you offend, about who's toes are very steppable, about who's interests are out of bounds etc. Plus, I felt good that I'm still *in the market* and *approachable* (2 words that I heard a lot of from my friends this weekend). And I bought Shrewsbury biscuits! When I have those, who needs a lover?

In related news: I was spotted wearing my *kaala chashma* reading Vol. 4 of the Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire (and you thought I was kidding when I said I bought that?) at Cafe Coffee Day. By someone who was doing the eye-flirt thing. You know, the one where you stare at the other person till he catches you doing that and then look away and smile mysteriously. I caught him doing that, smiled back and turned the page. He waited for about 10 minutes (hopefully?) and then left.

Oh my God. What was I thinking? I picked the campaigns of Belisarius in Italy over coffee with a (medium) hottie?? I am now officially old-maid material. The kind who sits at a sewing machine (Singer brand preferably) making nappies for nephews/nieces yet unborn.
Still, as I'm sewing I can always relish the fact that I still have 3 more volumes of the book to go through...and then all 38 Volumes of the Enclyclopaeidia Brittanica await my reading pleasure. Now where was I? Ah yes, the Eunuch Narses takes over command of the Imperial Legion Victoria Felix...

Current Music:
Dessine-moi un mouton - Mylene Farmer.

(I think I'm going to be French for a while. I promised V. I'd watch Ozon's Huit Femmes with him again. *hums "Pa-pa-pa-pa-papa, t'es plus dans l'coup papa....."*)

Junkie alert..

Crack? Heroin? Charas? Coke? (If I had a paisa for each time I've had to refuse it over the last year, I'd have exactly 2 paise). Nah, I'm talking about junk food. Pani Puri, Jalebis, Grilled Cheese Sandwitches...the like! I am the uncrowned King of the junk food addicts. Why, the first thing I crave for after an orgasm is ...no, not a ciggie, I don't smoke..but French Fries. A medium baggie to be precise; which is why if you ever spotted me at a McDonald's in Bombay, chance are I've just cum. (You may shake my hand, I *do* clean up!)

I realized I'm addicted when I still lived in Boston. When I drove through a snowstorm to a Wendy's for a Junior Cheeseburger and Chicken nuggets. And came outside after my (healthy?) meal to find my car under about a foot of snow. And then dug out..and WENT BACK IN again for some more! And the time when I was on a business trip to California and disocvered In-n-Out burgers. I'd wake up at 2 am and drive down to San Jose for the 24 hour drive-thru and buy myself 2 huge burger meals and then spend the time watching crappy religious TV (OK..free porn) and stuffing myself silly (not to be confused with the free porn please!). And not remembering anything when I woke up the next morning...and then wondering why there were french fry crumbs all over my pillow. Whoa. Bad Fry Experience.

Anyway, now that I'm safely ensconced in the bosom of the Motherland (and like all bosoms, this one is starting to suffocate me now), I find myself substituting Bhel Puri and Pani Puri for the usual burger-shake meals. And frankly they are SO much tastier. And speaking of being frank, how about those Frankies eh? (Tibbs rulez!!). I've been eating at Elco's for the past 6 months . They have a "mineral-water" Pani Puri. Along with a gloved, hair netted Pani Puri Man (Do they even have a name? Pani Puri Wallah? Pani Puri Dude?) Which sorta cuts down on the fun. I mean, if you can't see an oozing scab dip into the *teekha chutney* as he fills up the puri, is it really Pani Puri Bombay-style? I think not.

I'm also loving jalebis. Since I work just above a sweet seller (sweet meat..how revolting the sound!), I seem to be eating jalebis by the quarter-kilo every afternoon. While it hasn't improved my speech (I'm no more sweet-sounding today as I was when I only eat chillies), it certainly has added to the poundage. I've gone from a svelte 140 pounds to a HUGE 144 pounds. My summer wear is now the talk of the town ("My. Those tight linen pants certainly accentuate your flat arse."). Little do they know it used to be a baggy cargo-ish thing I'd wear if I was feeling rather anti-social. Yesterday, I tried the gulab jamuns. So dripping with sugared water, I almost threw up. But I gamely soldiered on. And ordered one more plate.

Anyway, must run now. It's time for my pre-lunch (pre-prandial? Bacchon, this has been Latin-word-of-the-day) Rasgulla fest. I'm off downstairs to get myself a couple. Oh. And a samosa too. Or two. OK three. And then lunch.

Current music:
Libera Me - Interview with the Vampire.

(Erich and me used to make out to this soundtrack. I hate him still. But the soundtrack rocks)