I *heart* Bombay (and well..Boston)

I'm urban..in the way other people are mountain-people or tunafish junkies. I love city life...something about dreary concrete blocks and grumpy people totally gets my juices flowing. Ergo, this will be a blog about me, my two favourite cities (Bombay and Boston), my addiction to Vietnamese coffee and my views on Gregorian chant and it's efficacy in curing some types of tympannic membrane rupture. Enjoy!

Friday, July 11, 2008

Xenophobia isn't just a Bandra Catholic name

(Note: To be read only after you've worn your khaki knickers, waved your Indian flag 3 times and sung Saare Jahan Se Accha - once you're in the mood, read on)

Who would have thought that 61 years after independence, I - an Indian (of khaki knicker wearing, tricolour waving, tuneless patriotic song singing variety) has to bow to the "gora" as he:

1. Shags all the hot guys in the city - thus making it impossible for me to find an acceptable date.

2. Rents all the nice places in the city and makes the area unaffordable for the rest of us.

3. Makes my vegetable-walla stock lemon grass and zucchini instead of alu-bhindi.

4. Is driven in a nice air-conditioned car as I sweat it out in the Nariman Point share-a-cab.

5. Is served first ALWAYS at Zenzi and Olive as I struggle to get the bartenders attention.

The only icing on the cake is that I'm sure at some level I've stolen one of their jobs.

Vik - who is feeling exceptionally xenophobic afer he was told he couldn't rent in Bandra as they only rent to goras, was told he couldn't date someone anymore as a gora had condescended to give his date a couple of hours of his time, was told by his bhajiwalla to try zucchini - a veggie he detests, is still smelling of the godawful cologne of the banker he sat next to in the share-a-cab and had to basically yell out his order at Olive before someone decided to serve him.

No wonder Bombay is full of passport-queens. Seeing how our own people bend over backwards (a useful trait if you're gay) to accomodate and pamper goras at the risk of alienating the rest of us melanin-enhanced, blonde-challenged brethren.

Grr. Mucho frustato today.

Monday, July 07, 2008

You know you are:

You know you are A Bandra Gay Boi when:
- You squeal when they play Like a Prayer at Hawaiian Shack.
- Breakfast is at Bagel Cafe, lunch at Basilico and dinner at Zenzi.
- You're shagging a white guy.

You know you are A South Bombay Gay Boi when:
- Your accessory-du-jour is a gori fag hag.
- You shag only other South Bombayites.
- You go to Pride in the US but you're closeted at home.

You know you are A Dadar Gay Boi when:
- You tell people you only want a relationship ... and you mean it!
- You're excited if your blind date is another Maharashtrian.
- You lost your virginity at Five Gardens.

You know you are A Kandivili Gay Boi when:
- You can only have sex when the wife isn't home.
- A hook-up is dhokla and chai followed by fucking.
- A good evening is being groped by 10 strangers in a crowded train.

You know you are A Mulund Gay Boi when:
- A quickie doesn't make sense when you have a 2 hour commute.
- You identify guys on the escalator at R Mall with their chat ids.
- You fail to see the irony in your suburb's name.

You know you are An Andheri Gay Boi when:
- You begin a conversation naming the last model/TV Actor you shagged.
- You furnish your house with Oshiwara "antiques".
- Lokhandwala market is where you get all your kinky undies from.

You know you are A New Bombay Gay Boi when:
- You never get laid unless you cross the creek.
- Top/Bottom doesn't matter as much as Sector Number.
- You've blown someone on Palm Beach Road in their car.