I heart Bombay (and well..Boston)

And it's another year gonne by...

2009-01-05T04:26:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year everyone..

I know it's been forever since I blogged...but trust me when I say absolutely nothing new has happened in my life since then. Well, nothing I'd want to share anyway - after all, reading about long commutes and endless cups of coffee don't make for much enjoying no?
New year's Eve was quiet. Didn't get asked out (a part of me held out making plans hoping that someone would step in at the last minute and ask me out to party) so rather than get back into the gay Bombay party scene, I just piled up all my Johnny Depp DVDs, put on my PJs and sat in front of the TV...was tough to prise the remote away from my dad and whatever crap it was Star Plus or Zee had decided to spew out.
Thankfully, a last minute call from S. (my "end of 2008" new friend - intelligent, hot and super nice...and straight) got me outta the house to hang with him, his girlfriend, Domino's, Kingfisher beer and yes...Johnny Depp on the telly - I guess I'm not the only one who is fascinated by the man. Was reasonably quiet, we had no music other than what his neighbors kept blasting out (I found "Jiye Bhutto Benazir" a rather strange song to play..but Hey! my other option was humming Auld Lang Syne over a quiet glass of wine).

2009 - a year of change?
Well, Barack Obama thinks so, so do a couple of friends who're giving up years of playing the field and settling down with wife, babies and dog. Which leads me to think that perhaps I should do something drastic too this year? After all, my most drastic thing last year was the tattoo that I had hoped would create some discord in my family and instead ended up being appreciated by all and sundry. This year perhaps I'll take that vacation I've been pining for and postponing till I found someone. That is probably not going to happen in 2009 either so I might as well pack that single toothbrush and book my twin bed in Pondicherry now.
Am gonna try to learn to swim, drive a stick shift car and kick box this year. I'm 32 and I guess I should've done all this by now...but true to procastinating form, I've managed to live very well without knowing any of these. Just keep me away from the sea, a car rental and a prospective mugger.

And lose some weight.

For someone who's been underweight (and drastically so) all his life, my thirties and my sudden slide into weightwatching is freaking me out. The same mom who begged me to gain weight (yes, guilt will work, mom!) is now begging me to lose some. It's not like I'm fat - I'm just no longer Bombay gay boy skinny. And explaining to a prospective date the reason why I'm "fat" (a dumping reason) will involve me having to disclose my age as well ( another dumping reason). So there's this delicate dance one has to do around this - which pretty much involves not meeting up and instead hiding behind a newspaper if one is spotted. Sadly, I've gone from hiding behind a magazine to behind a double spread Sunday edition now.

And finally, to appreciate the people who care about me this year. 2008 ended with another terror attack on my city - one that hit very close to home with my workplace being affected. Made me realize (once again) how much I take some people for granted. So this year, I'll be a better son, brother and friend - and that's one resolution I'm sure I will keep.

An Engayging tag

2008-09-16T01:00:00.000-07:00

A general lack of anything happening with my life (post festival blues) and a tag (yay!) from my friend Kris lead to this:

RULE #1 People who have been tagged must write their answers on their blogs and replace any question that they dislike with a new question formulated by themselves.
RULE #2 Tag 5 people to do this quiz and those who cannot refuse. These people must state who they were tagged by and cannot tag the person whom they were tagged by continue this game by sending it to other people.

If your lover betrayed you, what will your reaction be?
Dump the asshole. I''m not a forgiving type - and even if I took him back, I'd never be able to trust him again. Best to cut the strings and forget he even existed.
If you can have a dream to come true, what would it be?
To have a house on an island with my lover, 2 dogs and a VERY hot gardener.
Whose butt would you like to kick?
All the guys who have "types". Come on! Live a little...doesn't hurt to date someone who isn't "exactly" what you want. Maybe you'd even be surprised.
What would you do with a billion dollars?
Open up a club playing only 80's retro music and serving martinis. That will cost me about a million or so. Maybe I'd just drink the other 999 million away. Oh, and must save money for tummy tuck and Botox. (was going to say "get a boyfriend" but then Paul McCartney tapped me on the shoulder and reminded me that "Money can't buy me love").
Will you u fall in love with your best friend?
Yes. I have several times. Which is why I have neither lover nor best friend.
Which is more blessed, loving someone or being loved by someone?
Oh totally being loved by someone...then you have the option of reciprocating - always keep the power reins in your hands.
How long do you intend to wait for someone you really love?
11.59 pm, Feb 1, 2009. Starting then, I'm just gonna settle for what I can get.
If the person you secretly like is already attached, what would you do?
Totally pray for them to break up. It's evil but sometimes you need divine intervention. Oh and excel at EVERYTHING the guys' partner doesn't do. And make sure the guy knows it.
If you like to act with someone, who will it be? your gf/bf or an actress/actor?
How about an actor who is my pretend boyfriend? I pick Kunal Kapoor.
What takes you down the fastest?
Being ignored by my friends.
How would you see yourself in ten years time?
On a chair at Jamuna Pai's clinic undergoing facelift Number 1.
What’s your fear?
Bald, fat and single at 40 watching all the twinks dancing at the GB party with a whiskey and water in my hand. Shudder.
What kind of person do you think the person who tagged you is?
Someone who refused to watch Mamma Mia with me. That says it all.
Would you rather be single and rich or married but poor?
Single and rich always. Money can't buy you love but it sure makes being single hurt less.
What’s the first thing you do when you wake up?
Hit snooze on the alarm and sleep some more. Oh, and check to make sure the undies are still on.
Would you give all in a relationship?
No. I would have said yes when I was an idealist and a romantic. But having been in a couple of relationships, I'd say never completely open up till you are absolutely sure (and get it in writing) that you're gonna be together forever. It's just not worth the humiliation otherwise.
If you fall in love with two people simultaneously, who would you pick?
The Deep Vik says the one who has more to offer emotionally. The shallow one says the one with the bubble butt.
Would you forgive and forget no matter how horrible a thing the someone has done?
Never. He's lucky I haven't put a hit on him yet!
Do you prefer being single or having a relationship?
Do you even have to ask. (Gets back to folding laundry and eating chips)

I tag Rambunctious Whippersnapper and VisualScribe.

LOL.

2008-09-16T00:42:00.000-07:00

Best reason I've received so far IN MY LIFE for not going out on a date with me.

"I'm sorry but I have bad jetlag from my business trip yesterday".

The dude was on a work trip to .... Ahmedabad.

Pride (In the name of love)

2008-08-26T22:44:00.000-07:00

Saturday August 16th was Bombay’s first ever GLBT march – our version of Gay Pride..Of course I was there – after agonizing about what to wear. As you’ll see, I settled for dressing like I dress everyday. After all, part of getting people to accept you, is getting them to accept you as you are. Which in my case is "fashion victim desperately trying to hide a 31 year old belly by inhaling and holding his breath for as long as he can – and then finding a quiet corner to exhale where no one can see him".

We gathered at Gowalia Tank – rather grandiosely renamed August Krati Maidan after the Quit India resolution of 1942 that was passed there. The point of having Pride start there was twofold – one; to ask for the repealing of Article 377 – the article in the Indian Penal (heh!) Code that makes me a criminal for loving a man (Which technically means I’m safe – I’m loveless at the moment), the second; to show that even after the rest of India celebrated our Independence day on August 15th, sexual minorities were still waiting the next day for their right to be free from prejudice.

The Maidan was a sea of color. Rainbow mostly – but with a lot of pink by the gay bois and stonewashed jeans for the lesbians. There was lots of speechifying by the feminists and the lesbians and the trans community with a rather valiant effort by S. on behalf of us gay bois. Meanwhile cut to all of us gay bois at the back of the crowd comparing clothes, colors and accessories. Whoever said we weren’t a shallow and vain bunch! We even had a celeb sighting – a C list celeb in angel wings come to “share” our pain. Yikes! Meanwhile, I couldn’t spot a single gay celeb anywhere (Except my charming friend K. M. looking very dapper in his trademark mascara). We tried to gloss it over talking about how if they had come, it would have overshadowed the march itself but it was very disappointing to have no Bollywood or industry support for the march (Yeah, a couple of lines in the Bombay Times don’t count as support!)

Anyway, we marched towards Chowpatty (a fitting location given the “action” that happens here come Ganpati Visarjan) passing a lot of middle class South Bombay (Yes, apparently it exists!). Curious flat owners leaned down to take pictures of the march (and us…)..Little old Parsi ladies at Ness Baug fanned themselves and kept a look out for Uncle Rohinton and Auntie Tehmi..cops wondered what straw they drew to get stuck protecting a bunch of happy, dancing, singing queers. All the way down to the beach where we sang one last “Hum Honge Kaamyaab”, got one last set of numbers and headed off home.

All in all a great time for me. I danced, I sang, I marched, I got dumped by a guy, I got asked out by this girl (“Are you “really” sure you can’t be bi?”) I can’t wait till next year..Inshallah we’ll be celebrating “NOT” being criminals next year…

(Left: Me - exhausted and happy at the end of the day)

Almost an Olympic sport

2008-08-11T23:45:00.000-07:00

"How do you know XYZ?"

"Oh, I hooked up with him a couple of months ago. And how do you know him?"

"Well, my ex boyfriend used to do him a year ago and I'm planning on doing him in a couple of weeks. My best friend is doing him now."

The Bombay dating pool is big. But still, I find myself dipping and double dipping into the same pool that everyone I hang out with is in ... paddling away and deep diving occasionally. Which then lends itself to some piquant situations ... How does one react when you bump into your best friend on a date with someone who stood you up on yours? How do you react when your colleague starts shagging someone you have been actively pursuing for weeks? Is it OK to lose respect for your friend when he does someone else's boyfriend behind his back?

At least Bombay has a big Olympic sized dating pool. Bangalore's was a water filled pothole on the Eastern Express highway in comparison.

My friend A. thinks that it's not like that at all.. Bombay is just a series of large pools (Where am I going with this swimming metaphor? I think so much Michael Phelps amazing body watching has turned my brains). A pool for the creatively-inclined, a pool for the media queens, a pool for the call center crowd, a pool for the lawyers ... and most people tend to swim in their same pools. It's tough to swim in another pool. You have to shower and change first which is such an effort. Then you have to learn the backstroke cause in your pool you've only ever done the breaststroke (Trying hard not to say doggy style paddling!) So you just wade and loll about in your own space. And that's where the issue lies.

I'm sick of me and my friends finding the same people attractive, dating the same people and dumping the same people. It's such a hassle to plan a dinner now...have to make sure you invite someone you like while discreetly figuring out if he was indeed the same person who your best friend detests after their bad sexperience. And even worse, having to NOT invite the person you really like to protect him from the competition you'd have in a group.

And the advertising guy in me wonders if there are still any untapped markets left in here? Is that why gay men look for younger and younger partners to date? Just to get there before anyone else has had a chance to date them? To find somebody who has no baggage? (As opposed to me who is renting a space in Kopar Khairane to store all my emotional baggage).

When did dating get to be such a chore? Is there anybody left at all?

Xenophobia isn't just a Bandra Catholic name

2008-07-11T04:11:00.000-07:00

(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.

You know you are:

2008-07-07T00:57:00.000-07:00

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.

Adieu

2008-06-19T04:33:00.000-07:00

For my last weekend in Bangalore, a few thoughts and observations - all my own work (With apologies to Busybee, who has entertained me everyday for the past 3 weeks with his columns from the 1980s in Bombay - Anyone who grew up in Bombay in the 80s and early 90s should get a lot of this )
Like I will be moving back to a Bombay that's flooded by the monsoon. My first real rain in months and I am really looking forward to "butta" on Marine Drive.
Like Carrie and me are really similar. She and her Manhattan, me and my Bombay. She and her Manolo Blahniks, me and my Puma.
Like I came to Bangalore with 2 suitcases full of clothes and am leaving with 18 "cartons" of clothes, book and music. And then I wonder how I manage to spend all my money.
Like it's very liberating to take your shirt off at a club. Tried that last week at Taika and felt like a million bucks afterwards. No pecs and no abs be damned!
Like I will miss sleeping under a quilt. One of the plus points of Bangalore - the fab weather. In Bombay, I'd be hard pressed to get anything on in bed. (And then i wonder why people say I make it too easy !)
Like my first stop in Bombay will be to Elco Arcade to eat some authentic pani puri. Just plain boondi, chutney and spicy water. No grated carrot, no tomato pieces and NO pomergranate!
Like I should start running again. Carter Road will be awesome this time of year.
Like I am afraid, with Bombay rents being what they are, I will no longer be a Bandra boi - more a Lokhandwala munda.
Like Portuguese will be a cool language to learn. Great music and cinema and hot Brazilians to flirt with.
Like it will be nice to work in a highrise looking out into the stormy sea. (Note to self: Figure out who to sleep with to get office with window view)
Like it will be weird to travel by train again. I haven't done that regularly since 1994.
Like it's 10 years since college graduation! And I need to track my graduating class down and see where everyone ended up. I bet there are only a handful of single people left.
Like at this year's reunion, we will need separate tables and clowns for all the kids.
Like I am super happy that my awesome friends F and J adopted 2 awesome kids to complete their family. It's always a pleasure to watch another gay couple making it work. Gives the rest of us cynics and pessimists hope (Thus negating the definitions of cynic and pessimist - but I digress)
Like the next post will come to you from my awesome Bombay - probably from a laptop at the Cafe Coffee Gay on Carter Road.

Koshy's and a weird post

2008-05-28T02:07:00.000-07:00

For the first time, I’m actually writing a post sitting outside my home or my office…weird how it’s taken my almost 2.5 years to do that. Weirder is the fact that I’m writing this sitting at the same table in the same restaurant where my parents met almost exactly 40 years ago for the first time. Eating what seems to be bread that’s been around for about that long (perhaps the very loaf that my mother sliced as a college student in the 60’s).

I’m at Koshy’s – arguably one of Bangalore’s landmarks…for the art, theater and literature crowd primarily (with a sprinkling of lawyers and petty businessmen thrown in for good measure) and populated by a surprising number of lesbians. Or perhaps they are just very girly men. No, I guess they are lesbians – I see no brand name clothing on them. Quite a few gay bois too…almost all on dates. Surprising that – I’ve always felt that Bangalore is quite dry in terms of the “I want to go out on a dinner and drinks date with you” type of guys. It’s more of a “I am free from 8 pm to 9 pm so let’s get together and fuck” kinda place. Which I suppose Bombay is as well – except the fact that most of us “have no place” makes us almost compulsory daters. The lack of any place to allow us to fulfill our societal expectations of being promiscuous sex maniacs makes us all hetero-normative serial daters in Bombay. Thank you, outdated rental laws in Bombay – thanks to you I will have to be a “coffee and dinner” guy as opposed to the “pump and dump” kind. Anyone who’s been on a dinner date with a hunk from Rohtak will know just how tough it is to be the first type of guy as opposed to the second.

I’ve spent my last hour compiling things I love and hate for a friend’s chain email that (wonder of wonders) actually got me thinking. The question was “What 5 things piss you off and what 5 things will you miss if they were taken away?” (The email itself was part of some Christian “G-d loves you and you should too” kinda scam email forward that frequently finds it’s misguided way into my inbox along with pictures of kittens, starving African children and sunflowers).

What pisses me off currently – 8 pm Tuesday May 27?
Bangalore auto rickshaw drivers – I just wanna shove that double-meter up their arse most days, the fact that I haven’t eaten a single mango this season, the fact that I have no date this weekend (and will not have one for the next month according to the chart I made in one of my “I’m horny and need to use my hands to get busy” moods), falling in love with a pair of shoes and then being told that my shoe size is too big to stock anywhere (seriously? 6 million people in this city and no one has Size 11 feet?), realizing that 4 people I can see myself spend the rest of my life with are 1. In different cities 2. Involved with someone else and 3. Not seeing me as someone they can spend the rest of their lives with.

What I will miss if they were taken away – 8.05 pm Tuesday May 27?
National market and the DVDs that will be the pride of my home when I get myself a kick-ass home theater system, Coffee at India Coffee House and Tea at Infinitea (They have together gotten me through some very lonely weekends), Lee Slim Fit jeans – anything that helps me pretend like I have a butt deserves my thanks, Kitchens of India readymade Methi Chicken open and reheat packs which have been responsible for 8 out of my 9 pound weight gain and have been Oh! So delicious that I’ve almost forgotten what an orgasm felt like – and have happily settled for a meal of Methi Chicken and rice and finally…Max Café. I have yet to figure out how I will survive without my weekly meatball and potato salad meal. Anyone who can recommend similar food in Bombay is invited to take me there and watch me eat it. If you’re cute, we’ll call it a date even.

Finally.

2008-02-08T04:31:00.000-08:00

It's happenin' to me..right in front of my face and I just cannot hide it...

Now that I've got that amazingly catchy disco number out of the way (and created some disturbing Priscilla visuals in my head), I must apologize for not writing - I have written tons of letters to people..so I guess my juices were all directed in that direction. Since I've been so remiss with this, I suppose it's time to make up for it. Especially now that my appearance on TV has ....changed NOTHING :-)

Well, other than the fact I had a rather awkward call with the parents once they started getting phone call after phone call from concerned auntiejis who had spotted me being outed on TV by Barkha Dutt, nothing has really changed. Oh, that and the free coffee from 2 very attractive women at Koshy's who recognized me from the TV show. Still waiting for the 2 very attractive "men" at koshy's to do the same. I suspect I will be waiting for a while on this.

Meanwhile, the longing to move back to Bombay is becoming a lot more urgent. Especially now that Bombay is apparently going through some sort of cold wave (10 C in Bombay!! Amma is probably wearing her quilts now!) while Bangalore swelters on. Is it global warming? Or is it G-d's punishment for having specimens like Raj Thackeray and his goondas beating up the northies in Bombay to protest some college Aishwarya "I'm a plastic doll" Bachhan is building in UP? Do they not realize if it wasn't for the northies, Bombay would be full of pale, chubby men named Milind? Though I digress, I still admit to have a love for the green-eyed ghati variety. If the Kannadigas here in Bangalore had those eyes, I'd be all over them before you could say "Ondu, yeredu, mooru". But they don't.

Bangalore, besides it's 11.30 pm deadline for clubs/bars to close also has a new law now. No dancing. This is becoming more and more like that town Kevin Bacon lived in in Footloose. I need to watch it again to figure out how he solved that issue. Though from my recollections of the movie, I can't dance up the Vidhana Souda steps doing my best imitation of "Cut loose, footloose, kick off your Sunday shoes" to get the evil sheriff (or his nearest Kannadiga equivalent - they both share a love for cowboy hats anyway) to cancel this silly law. Till then, I have to hang out at the Beach on 100 ft road bopping my head like some stupid SNL skit (and stare at the obnoxiously good looking bartender). Oh I long for Bombay and Hawaiian Shack. I will never complain about the Virar-local-like quality of that club anymore!

In other news, I just had a birthday and am now officially in my "early thirties". Chez Vik was honoured by the presence of a bunch of folk who showed up and sat through my pathetic attempts at DJing a party with only Arabic soul and Jay-Z on my playlist. I swear..Darine's "Aiwa" is officially DEAD to me now. On the other hand, my belief that gay men are big drinkers was kinda smashed (just like I was!) when I found I had something like 2 dozen beers left over from the party! They stare at me every evening when I get home...as if to say "How dare you not drink us. We promise not to take your waist from a 30 to a 34 if you will only taste some of us" LIARS! I only have to sniff a beer to feel the belly grow. And since Take 5 got it's Belgian beer range, I'm scarfing them down like there's no tommorow. Which there isn't - considering the hangovers I have to deal with the next day. I now know what a straight man mouth feels like. I can taste yeast the first thing I wake up.

(catching S. as she faints from sheer disgust)

I did get some nice presents though. A lot of clocks. Is it a hint for me to be more on time to things? Or a play on how little time I have left on G-d's good earth? A nice lamp - to light up my life perhaps? (I would have prefered a dumb Punjabi hunk - but hey! It's the thought that counts) A couple of awesome books (easily the fastest way into my pants) and a poster of the Paki band Strings "AUTOGRAPHED"! That was awesome - Sar ki hai yeh pahaar is the one song I hum everytime I have a walk of more than 10 minutes to do..

Thank you all! And a general kiss to everyone who mailed me on Facebook to wish me..ever since I got rid of my cellphone (yes, I'm a Luddite!), Facebook is the only way to contact me.. so all thos epeople who email me "Hallo Dear, Vt izz UR phn no?" , please assume this is my general FU in your direction. I have no phone! Take that in your pipe and smoke it!

I resolve in 2008..

2007-12-27T23:34:00.000-08:00

1. To save up and buy myself a big screen TV. I'm sick of coming home to a silent house. Creepy sometimes.

2. To take a long holiday and not care about accruing vacation time and requests for permission to go and filling up 500 forms before I get a day off.

3. To cook my special spinach lasagna at home without ricotta, fontana or good cream cheese. It's going to be a challenge, but if I master it, I know I'll be super-fat by the end of the year.

4. To gain 10 kgs. And not only on the stomach (I don't need to make a resolution for that unhappy occurence to happen!)

5. To visit Kerala and stay at one of those Ayurvedic spas. I've been pushing off this trip forever and I think I sure could use an oil massage about now.

6. To get a tattoo. Ganesha on my hip. It was supposed to be on my arm, but since I'm resigned to the fact I will never ever have biceps, and will be hippy forever, it's hip-time.

7. To have a well-stocked bar. Needless to say a martini shaker needs to be bought. As do several bottles of Grey Goose.

8. To write more often. Currently it's a letter a month. I plan to move it to a weekly schedule.

9. To shop for fewer clothes and books and for more furniture.

10. To find a boyfriend. Been single too long and the world is passing me by. I don't care about the "You'll find one when you're not looking" cause then they all think you're not interested!

Merry Christmas all!

2007-12-20T06:31:00.000-08:00

And a very happy new year too!

The year in review

2007-12-12T00:09:00.000-08:00

1) Where did you begin 2007?
At Sanju and Shweta's drinking wine and entertaining my cousins.

2) What was your status by Valentine's Day?
Single as ever (but with a glimmer of romantic interest in the picture)

3) Were you in school (anytime this year)?
Hell, no!

4) How did you earn your money?
The old-fashioned way (flat on back, legs in air...kidding!). Changed jobs and cities this year.

5) Did you have to go to the hospital?
Thankfully not even for a kindly visit.

6) Did you have any encounters with the police?
A Hoysala cop winked at me once. Does that count?

7) Where did you go on vacation?
Coorg every weekend I could manage. Bombay for anything longer than just a couple of days.

8) What did you purchase that was over Rs. 20000?
My bed. The one who lies upon ut every night is considerably "under" Rs. 20000.

9) Did you know anybody who got married?
Yeah, couple of close friends.

10) Did you know anybody who passed away?
Not this year. Remarkably healthy year for the near and dear ones I guess.

12) Did you move anywhere?
Yes, to Bangalore from Bombay.

14) What concerts/shows did you go to?
Aerosmith, Alan Parson's Project

15) Are you registered to vote?
In Bombay, absolutely! In Bangalore, no :-(

16) Who did you want to win American Idol?
Sanjaya, I think I have a thing for gay Indian guys.

17) Where do you live now?
Bengalooru..

18) Describe your birthday.
Turned 30, had a blast at the Shack with my closest friends. Pity date too!

19) What's one thing you thought you'd never do but did in 2007?
Stay resolutely single.

20) What has been your favorite moment?
Watching my friends have their babies and seeing how happy they were.

21) What's something you learned?
The Intel compliance rules for all adverts. Yes, my life is that boring.

22.) Any new additions to your family?
My super-awesome brother-in-law.

23.) What was your best month?
January

24.) What music will you remember 2007 by?
My addiction to Elissa this whole year means it's been all about Lebanese music.

25) Who has been your best drinking buddy?
Sanju in Bombay and Nandini in Bangalore.

26) Made new friends?
I thought I did. I might be wrong.

27) Best new friend?
Nope, the ones I've had from the past are still tried and true.

28) Favorite Night out?
Still my 30th birthday at Hawaiian Shack. So much fun.

Emotions and all that

2007-11-30T04:15:00.000-08:00

On a Friday evening just before I head off into the mountains of Coorg to spend some time on top of a windswept hill, I'm thinking about a conversation I've just had.

Someone I learnt to care for deeply has moved on.

Moving to Bangalore implied a lot of friends in Bombay would gradually lose touch, gradually move on..that was to be expected. The life of a 30 something year old is full of these moves and shifts of place, friends and emotions. Every move I've made (and I've made a few) has resulted in losing old friends and gaining new ones (and losing them in turn). The semi-annual pruning of the phone numbers just brings that to mind most vividly..

But there are some friendships and relationships that just stick on. Linger around long enough that one can meet after a year and just carry on where one left off. Memories which are a warm blanket on cold Bangalore nights.

And then one of them moves on.

It's a weird feeling to know that one person suddenly doesn't think of you the way they used to. After all the work to get to a certain place, the target is moved yet once more. Distance - the great leveller. I've already lost someone I cared about deeply because of the miles between us...and now I've lost another.

Distance makes hte heart grow fonder. What a crock of shit that cliche is!

Out of sight, out of mind...now that's more like it.

A creature of routine

2007-11-24T09:23:00.001-08:00

Saturdays

Max Cafe at the Goethe Institut

A phone that never rings

Coffee

Nicholas Ostler's "Empire of the word"

Rattan blinds swaying in the wind

Unshaven

Sleepy

BORED. Of life. Of work. Of men. Of routine.

A very Japanese weekend

2007-11-09T06:09:00.000-08:00

So after a week spent re-reading one of my favourite books (Shogun by James Clavell), eating wasabi peas and listening to Pizzicato 5 on loop, I'm totally in a Japanese mood right now.

All I seem to want to do is head to Homestop-buy some bonsai and tatami for the house and eat every meal at Harima on Residency Road till I choke on my sashimi. (I still can't get myself to say Harima till I say Harami about three times. Giggling all the while.) Dare I get stereotypical and say take pictures of everything in Bangalore as well?

If you haven't read Shogun (and the others in the series by Clavell - Gai-Jin and Tai-Pan are my favourites), I'd totally suggest you do. Historical fiction isn't everyones cup of cha but it sure is mine...was amazing to read the (fictional) retelling of the events leading to the Battle of Sekigahara and all about samurai and bushido and seppuku...honestly, the way Clavell tells it, even suicide seems like an honourable thing to do.

It just seems like such a different culture...so different from India..and for sure different from the West. (Then again, all I've been reading about is 16th century Japan...today like all Asians, they're more Western than the West!) I'd like to visit someday..though knowing me I'll just hang out in the Ginza watching all the cool kids walk about. Pity I'm not into Asian guys, some of the Japanese guys are awesome looking - the best fashion sense ever.

And I'd give it all to meet Nomiya Maki from Pizzicato 5..I'm so in love with her!

(Sidetrack: What is it with me and women singers? Nomiya Maki, Francoise Hardy, Chrissie Hynde, Susannah Hoffs...I'd give anything to meet them for a drink! NO man singer makes the list! Mika is close...but drinking isnot what I have in mind for him...)

Seen around Bangalore

2007-10-29T04:41:00.000-07:00

So I have this annoying habit of using my cellphone to take pictures of bad English (sorta inspired by engrish.com) as seen on the streets of Bangalore..I also have an el crapioso phone that has images that would look better if I got a kid with a crayon to sketch them out - the perils of being poor and tech-UNsavvy.

I'm totally discounting the extra "h" I see on every name out here..but I feel that deserves a mention, doesn't it Satheesh and Geetha?

1. At a weighing machine thingie at Garuda Mall "Look Straight before inserting".

2. On a menu at Empire on Church Street "Brian Dry with Onions"

3. In a lift heading up my office building "If you are stuck-up in this lift, please dial Emergency"

4. On a signboard off Brigade Road "Caution: Dead Slow Hump Ahead"

5. At an Esprit sale at Lifestyle "Buy any two bottoms and get any top ABSOLUTELY FREE!"

6. At American Icecreams on Brigade road "Nigerlone (sic) flavour"

7. On M.G. Road, "Pick any top, yours for Rs. 100"

8. Also on M.G. Road "Cycle pushing NOT ALLOWED".

9. On a menu at a Shant(h)isagar on CMH road "Baby Masala Dosa"

10. Behind a rickshaw in Domlur "Ladies people are evils people"

11. HSBC bank, M.G. Road, memo "Entrance through backside"

12. In a lift (what is it about lifts and English issues?), "Electronic Hooters".

A Friday night ritual

2007-10-20T13:36:00.000-07:00

I like to have a martini,
Two at the very most.
After three I'm under the table,
After four I'm under my host.

- Dorothy Parker.

The Talkathon continues..

2007-10-06T08:07:00.000-07:00

So in my attempts to find friends and "more" in Bangalore, I've taken to the chat waves online. A busy life and a lack of social places to meet singles means I've gotta do most of my looking-for-friends-and-more online. Days of fine-tuning a profile so you sound somewhere between cocky (no pun intended) and needy...My Friendster, Orkut, MySpace and Facebook profiles are a great help here...that's where I can try out new things to say and have it critiqued by my friends who will jump to laugh at me if I make any extravagant claims (Yeah, that one about the 10" cock is not true...sorry!)..

Anyway, my forays into the online world of gay chatting have been a combo of interesting , fun, hysteria and hopelessness...sorta a milkshake if you must, of all those ingredients. (Take 3 scoops hopelessness and add to it 2 generous helpings of fun. Stir in a tablespoon of interest and sprinkle liberally with hysteria..). At this point, I have discovered I have certain things about this whole thing..They are - in no particular order -

1. A dislike for people who say Hai, Hiiiiiiiii!, Hallo Dear, Chao, A/S/L (That went out with IRC years ago people!) , T/B

2. India seems to be populated with versatile folk! Perhaps that's why we're so good at stealing everyone else's jobs....(blow or otherwise)

3. Being married clearly doesn't stop many people...

4. Being with another gay man in a "happy" relationship clearly also doesn't stop many people - "I'm here to make friends only as I'm happy with my current boy" - Doesn't explain why you're out looking for 1-on-1 sex and you have a picture of your arse on here!

5. You claim to love to read but can't name the last book you read..you claim to love to hike but can't name the last trail you went on..you claim to love fashion but you wear socks with your sandals...

6. Sometimes coffee means just that - coffee.... (A million points and a chance to buy me a coffee for ANYONE who's heard Eddie Izzard's riff on coffee and "coffee")

7. People who only say Hi. And then vanish. And then reappear a week later to say How are you. And then vanish. And then wake up 3 weeks later and say How's life. And then vani...Oh! You get the picture.

8. I think my favourite profiles are the guys who claim to be shy and introverted and not very social. And who then send you a picture of a cock. NOT the tandoori kind.

9. There will be the occasional gem in the coal mine. And then he'll vanish and you'll bump into him on the arms of the other gem in the coal mine. And then you'll drink a lot and over-tip the rickshaw driver. I'm just saying...

10. Being spotted outdoors by people who've only ever seen your profile is such fun. This last week I've had "Were you on Brigade Road with a green shirt on?", "I saw you at Infinitea wearing a black tee", "You're taller than you look in your pictures" and "You're uglier than you look in your pictures..stop fooling us!".

How much fun is this!

The big move

2007-09-26T04:27:00.000-07:00

So finally, after looking at over 34 apartments, houses, holes-in-the-wall - I've finally moved into a nice-ish 2 bedroom in Indiranagar. The area reminds me of Bandra in Bombay - IF Bandra's Mac aunties metamorphosized into rich Telegu aunties and IF the lingua franca were less "What men bugger" and more "That only macha".

Shopping has pretty much drained the wallet. Who knew beds were this expensive! Finally ended up buying one from this Marathi designer called Ekbote (One-fingered) which I thought was quite appropriate given certain proclivities I enjoy. Figured I'm incredibly immature at times - like when I collapsed into fits of giggles when the salesman told me I can either have 5" or 6" on my bed (He meant mattress thickness I'm sure..). Who knows! With my new "have place" check on eligibility, I might actually start using this bed soon. Atleast, I can only hope.

Bangalore continues to grate. A flying visit to Bombay for the weekend only served to emphasize the gap between the two cities. I love Bangalore's weather and choice of continental food. For almost everything else - Bombay rulez. The rickshaw driver who dropped me home from the airport in Bombay actually gave me exact change in return and didn't demand a rupee more - I'm waiting for the day this happens to me in Bangalore...Plus, I miss Hawaiian Shack dearly...and my friends who - though they hate the Shack with a passion - will still come all the way to Bandra to party with me there. Compare that to Bangalore, where even getting someone to agree to have a coffee at somewhere mid way is akin to pulling teeth.

Ah well, I whine a bit sometimes. Am trying hard to look at this as a new adventure. I've already roped in 3 other ex-Bombay folk who meet up and talk about clubbing till 1.30 am and holding hands in public. That sorta thing.

Meanwhile, the quest to get a friend in bangalore continues. The Dashing Dentist - who you might remember from a previous post - called. Did I miss him, he ventured to ask. Well, seeing as I was stood up the last time I was to meet him, not very much. Do I want to sleep with him, he continued. Conflicting issues raged in my head - he was dashing, intelligent and rich - and I am poor and OH MY GOD so horny.
Pride won though. No thanks, I'm not looking for that - I lied through my teeth (ironic - seeing I was talking to a dentist).

Now I walk around with blue balls and no date in the far distance.

At first I was afraid, I was petrified...

So this made me laugh...

2007-08-28T01:22:00.000-07:00

I love taking pictures of signs in India..crack me up most of the time. My phone is full of images of "Dead Slow Hump Ahead" and "No Cycle Pushing Allowed" and "Rs. 100 off one top and take 2 bottoms free!". I've even blogged one of my favourites here.

Anyway, Irshy sent me a forwarded email that has been cracking me up most of the afternoon...Here are the images I've been giggling about for a while.

For all you non-Hindi speakers, well...too bad.

Starbucks comes to India..
(I think this was quite close to where
Morning Cock resides..)

Wanna bet Hiro's a Sindhi?

Ah the joys of being an Indian VIP! A
western loo all to yourself!

As a Grammar Nazi, I'm about to go Belsen on their ass!

A cock for 10 bucks?
I've totally been pricing myself outta the market!

Ahh..the pleasures of a nice warm cumbath at Bangalore Cantt!

I would love a man under one roof. (Just what are they selling here?)

Nuff said.

Anyone mention political correctness?

Thank you guardian angel!

2007-08-27T05:06:00.000-07:00

Whoever it was who rescued me from a rather lonely evening at 13th floor on Thursday watching the rain and eating fries by sending over that steady stream of sour apple martinis, thank you!

You made my evening and got me very drunk in the process. Next time, please come up and introduce yourself..the waiter was very tight-lipped about who you were.

Not another music post!

2007-08-17T06:04:00.000-07:00

YouTube continues to delight my every waking hour..(Well, the ones not spent watching porn anyway - Ah! The travails of the single Indian male!) And ever since I've discovered the rich treasure trove of Hindi movie songs that have been my particular delight growing up in the 80's on YouTube, I've been in heaven. Just thought I'd list out some of my favourites..

1. Bhool Gaya Sab Kuch - Julie http://youtube.com/watch?v=p2KieJfByZQ
This song fascinates me to this day..Romantic and all - but how's the poor hero (and my namesake) supposed to fuck the poor heroine when she's all togged up in an Egyptian mummy outfit with that ghastly 50-count bedsheet? I particularly love the little fan spinning away as they do the nasty..everyone knows how hot and sticky an afternoon romp in India can get!

2. Pyaar Karne Waale - Shaan http://youtube.com/watch?v=xZMewkB09KY
The closest I came to hetero-dom was leering at Parveen Babi shaking her jugs while singing this awesome song. Parveen - Shukriya, Karam and Meherbaani for all those awesome moments! Particularly like the thunder-thigh junior artists!

3. I Am A Disco Dancer - Disco Dancer http://youtube.com/watch?v=qP31aGQdjsQ
Ahh Mithun, if you were 10 years younger and I was 10 years older, I'd totally have done you! Tight white pants, the moves of a champ and that headband! Nice! (Sidenote: I think I have a bigger mouth than that woman who scream "WOOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWW")

4. Saara Zamaana - Yaarana http://youtube.com/watch?v=7fuo1NTJYl8
A booby Neetu Singh in a Jaslok hospital maternity-ward smock is totally over-shadowed by a suit-of-lights clad Amitabh. Cheesy, loud and sooo Bollywood! I love this song and the fact that Amitabh has his ass outlined in lights for much of the song. What were the costume designers smoking?

5. Om Shaanti Om - Karz http://youtube.com/watch?v=1BQq9yD60Ng
Tumne kissi se pyaar kiya? KIYA! How awesome is this rotating turntable-style stage? I totally want that instead of a treadmill...especially with the Maganlal Dresswalla tribal costume wearers prancing about behind me.

6. Aap ke kamre mein - Yaadon Ki Baraat http://youtube.com/watch?v=crhXCNxDNjw
Tareq and his giant goggles and amazing technicolour dreamcoat! Zeenat and her tiny red dress and red fuck-me boots! Hey you! Young man, will you sing with me?

7. Jeena Bhi Kya Hai Jeena- Kasam Paida Karne Waale Ki http://youtube.com/watch?v=5oZTxlGhwTw
Mithun teaching Salma Agha how to dance? Oh this has got to be good! And while we're at it, lets get her in a skin tight body suit that redefines the term "cameltoe". This movie has some of the best collections of kitsch seen this side of a HongKong Sindhi bathroom..

8. Nainon Mein Sapna - Himmatwala http://youtube.com/watch?v=G0AyyUcTZk8
OMG! I remember dancing in front of the TV on Wednesday nights watching this song on Chitrahaar! The pots..OMG! The pots!

9. Ui Amma Ui Amma - Mawaali http://youtube.com/watch?v=PMk6vPVNCBc
Jeetendra yet again - this time romancing busty Telegu Desam MP Jaya Prada (The other less-expensive kind). Boy, is the energy level high in this song. Figures why his nickname was "Jumping Jack". Puts any Jane Fonda aerobics tape to shame...

10. Zindagi Ki Na Toote - Kranti http://youtube.com/watch?v=qLUYwLgrloA
I would spend all my money to watch Hema Malini writhe and slither her way through this song while Manoj Kumar stares at her constipated-ly (there's a Yahoo emoticon I hope I don't see soon). And yes, children - this is how we won our freedom!

Rufus knows how it is.

2007-08-16T01:57:00.000-07:00

People will know when they see this show,
The kind of guy I am.
They'll recognize just what I stand for,
And what I just can't stand.
They'll perceive what I believe in,
and what I know is true.
They'll recognize I'm a one-man guy,
Always was, through & through.

People meditate, hey that's just great,
Trying to find the inner you.
People depend on family and friends,
And other folks to pull them through.
I don't know why I'm a one-man guy,
Or why I'm a one-man show.
But these three cubic feet of bone and blood and meat
Are all I love and know.

Cause I'm a one-man guy in the morning
Same in the afternoon.
One-man guy when the sun goes down,
I whistle me a one-man tune.
One-man guy, one-man guy,
Only kinda guy to be
I'm a one-man guy, I'm a one-man guy
And the one-man guy, is me.

I'm gonna bathe and shave and dress myself,
And eat solo every night.
Unplug the phone, sleep alone,
Stay way out of sight.
Sure it's kinda lonely,
Yeah it's sort of sick.
Being your own one and only
Is a dirty selfish trick.

Cause I'm a one-man guy in the morning
Same in the afternoon.
One-man guy when the sun goes down,
I whistle me a one-man tune.
One-man guy, one-man guy,
Only kinda guy to be
I'm a one-man guy, I'm a one-man guy
And the one-man guy, is me.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eo4YivSQMfE

A weekend trip..

2007-08-07T07:13:00.000-07:00

I was pretty tired of spending every Saturday at home for the past few weeks...I mean Takeshi's Castle and Mr. Bean re-runs can only get you so far! And I was kinda missing my weekend trips to Rajmachi, Duke's Nose and Sinhagad when I lived in Bombay. So I Googled up weekend getaways from Bangalore and discovered Yercaud, a hill station just outside Salem in Tamil Nadu..about a 5 hour drive out of Bangalore.

Here's a few pictures. Regardez le mist. It was awesome.....damp, spooky and clammy. Very "There-be-dementors-here" weather. Sadly, my "expecto patronum" didn't quite work. The silver Chippendale boy that's my Patronus looked more like a rather portly Santa Claus. Perhaps like Tonks, I too have some issues to sort out.

The cottage where I spent the night. Next time, I'm encouraging someone to come spend it "avec moi".

The view from the cottage. What I would have given to have an arm around me.

Balancing rather precariously on a fence post at 'Ladies Seat' (Not a euphemism for a well-bred woman's behind...more like the Virgin Mary's shrine)

A cancer

2007-07-28T12:47:00.000-07:00

Is the bitterness tree inside me. With leaves green with jealousy and fruit red with envy.

It's eating me up inside.

Inquiring minds want to know..

2007-07-23T06:22:00.000-07:00

I have so many questions..most of which I analyze on my 1.5 hour rickshaw ride to work everyday. And as Prasad can tell you, analysis (and the consequent "over" analysis) is something I excel in. And as he can also tell you, I'm about as deep as Paris' autobiography...which is why my questions aren't as much "Why did G-d put man on this Earth?" and more of the "I wonder why there's a left turn here" variety. To wit, these are the philosophical questions I'm dealing with currently. My attempts at being a Baruch Spinoza; I would like to believe.

1. Why is there a pube "on" the urinal at work everyday?

Not "in". But "on". This means someone has to physically pull it off and then carefully balance it on top of the urinal everyday. Who is this person? Need to investigate..but the last time I took my Sherlock Holmes cap and pipe into the loo and tried my "Elementary Watson" bit, I almost lost my job.

2. Does it ever rain in Bangalore?

I finally bought the cool "Mallu grandfather" type umbrella I've always wanted - and avoided the GIANT rainbow flag ones every traffic signal Manjunath insists I buy. (OK The one i bought is one of those umbrellas Bulgarian spies called Vassili Davidov always keep trying to jab James Bond with) I have my Espirit jacket (or "jaquette" as I like to call it) and where is the rain? The city is as dry as my sex life.

3. How does one address a rickshawwallah in Bangalore?

In Bombay, it's "Boss" or "Bhaiyya". What is it here? I tried "Anna" but somehow it seems more suited to the college canteen owner type. Was recommended "Guru"... but that sounds too filmi. Dropped a couple of "Saaaaaar", but that don't feel right especially as that's what they call me!

4. Are roadside shacks in posh Defence Colony, Indiranagar legal?

I need to construct one. Seeing as I will shortly be homeless and have yet to find the apartment I want in this city. A good budget doesn't seem to go anywhere if you have a rather definite idea of where and how you want to live. I am currently seeing apartment #33 and #34 tommorow. Yep. That means 32 places have been rejected so far. And sometimes I wonder why I'm single...

5. Are eggs meat?

In a fit of religousity, I ended up at the temple last weekend promising not to eat meat if G-d saw it within His power to get me some meat to eat. Of the kind that dare not speaks it's name..if you know what I mean (and I think you do). And now I'm craving protein. Dal and rice are fun about the first 100 times. Then I need my butter chicken and fish curry. Still, scared as I am of offending the Big Guy up there, I'm looking for loopholes in my agreement with Him. Perhaps an omlette and I'm fine if he doesn't have a PhD?

Friday! I'm in a mad mad mad mood.

2007-07-20T02:27:00.000-07:00

Forgive the hairy bastard that I seem to have become..it's an experiment and is going to end this weekend - tried for a Sean Connery look...ended up looking very Amitabh Bacchhan circa 1950. Time for a razor and a visit to a very overpriced salon to get back to my twinky self.

Plus, it's Friday and it's time for heading out. Cosmo Village, 13th Floor and Taika beckon. I'm in a mad mood today...cracking dead baby and Sardar jokes all over the place, going crazy with the Mac at work (and I don't mean Antoine Aloysius Fernandes...sorry that was a sad bit of Bandra humor). End result?

You do the math.

Ah. Friday. I love you so.

2007-07-08T02:50:00.000-07:00

I've had rather a fun weekend in Bangalore. "Why is this weekend anymore fun than the weekends past?" I hear the littlest member at the Vikster seder table say..Well, for starters I had not one but two coffee dates! And given the fact that Bangalore seems to abound in fantastic coffee places, I was sure I was in for a weekend of fun times..

Weekend began with me rushing to head outta the door at work so I could make it through the insane Bangalore traffic to my first port of call...Koshy's for some fab dark coffee and a very overdone steak. And of course Date #1, We'll call him "the Dashing Dentist". Quite fit in a "I poured myself into this Tshirt to impress you" kinda way. Also, had fab teeth and an interesting nose. Since I possess neither, I've been on a quest to improve myself by flaunting arm candy that has the stuff I lack. (Sadly, so far it hasn't gotten to the giant "I can't believe it's really real" dong that I lack - and rumor has some Bangaloreans possess).

Anyway, DD spotted me at a party, tracked me down and asked me out. Why sure! I said..relieved that I had some weekend plans finally! "How about a coffee?" I asked - secretly hoping he was an Eddie Izzard fan and knew that coffee in most cases meant "coffee" (nudge-nudge-wink-wink). Friday evening came and turned into a Friday "it's windy and cold and Iwish I had someone to hug" night. Hmm. No dentist around - dashing or otherwise; just the same motley group of artists, NGO'ers, journos, professional lesbians and assorted longhaired, unshowered denizens that make up Koshy's on a weekend night. The Vikster was stood up. For the fifth time in this city. I thought about the brave denizens of Bombay - who will brave crowded trains, over-flowing gutters, downed trees and bus strikes but will still keep their date (well, to be fair - this is only the case if a fuck is guarenteed...). Here, 5 people have felt it is ok to just not show up with no notice or concern for me - waiting and chewing on a rubbery steak (and growing steadily more indignant).

Anyway, after pouring my heart out to male fag-hags (Still auditioning for the female one sadly!), I sat back and waited for Saturday lunch and coffee with "The MBA from Delhi" who seemed interesting enough when I met him at Hint (PS - my new favourite hang out, at Bangalore Central mall). We had lunch, talked about our respective cities and how they compared to this one, national issues, the price of gas and the lack of rain. (Just another typical date with me). Over coffee he talked about all the guys who were chasing him - Bangalore, like Bombay, has some sort of fair-guy-from-Delhi fetish that I just don't understand. I nodded along and lied about how Bangalore guys were chasing me as well (a bad-hair-day victim who has his nose buried in Yiddish literature most days).

Anyway, at the end of the date, I told him I had a fun time and would love to do this again. Which was true. Probably not in a romantic sense but more as a pre-cursor to sex. (Like the Being-gay-in-India handbooks all say - meet them for coffee first and then go over and bonk their heads off) Anyway, he had me splitting my sides when he told me that wouldn't be possible as he only meets guys with intelligence. Of which he implied I had a passing aquaintance of only - sorta like an aunt who pops in once a year at Diwali to talk about her children and who you never hear from any other time.

Ah well, I said, too bad. Biting my tongue and trying hard not to list all the "intelligent" guys he had been shagging over the past month (The Bangalore gay world is about as big as a large-ish room in a Bombay flat - and news and reputations travel fast), I walked outta the Max Cafe laughing and messaging all my friends who had been trying to tell me how intelligent I was and how I will meet the right rocket scientist or doctor someday. Clearly I am missing some aspect of intelligence here - when did he lose me? When I said I was looking forward to seeing the Himesh Reshamiyya movie? Or when I said I love Punjabi culture because they introduced us to the world of paneer? I think I saw him blanche when I said the woman at the next table reminded me of Rakhi Sawant (seriously folks, her boobs were in her plate everytime she leaned in to take a bite!)

Anyway, I guess I have one more excuse to add to my list (I blogged about it earlier here..)
http://sourapplemartini.blogspot.com/2005/08/excuse-me.html

Ironic when you see the last excuse I listed in that post. It would seem I'm dumbing down as I slide into my thirties...Me at 37? A Brown Homer Simpson?

Welcome to Bengalooru!

2007-05-24T05:47:00.000-07:00

So it's been a good month and a half and I'm safely ensconced in Bangalore's welcoming Kannada-auntie-talcum-powder-covered bosom. And while I watch the rain lash the conference room window and shiver in the cold breeze whipping up the leaves in the parking lot, I'm totally loving the fact that it's the middle of May! And Bombay is sweltering with 38C temperatures and 100% humidity while I scan the Bangalore streets for Tibetan women selling sweaters!

The move was reasonably hurried. I had two days to pack, say my "sayonaras" (in Ashaben Parekh style) and eat as much of Amma's fish curry and rice before I got the heck outta Bombay and into my new home of Bangalore (Side Note: Do I only live in cities starting with B? What does this mean? Next stop- Barcelona? Brasilia? Belgaum?)

It's weird moving to a city where you have no roots at all. At least with my move to Bombay from Boston, I was coming back to my hometown. Here it's a total new frame of reference. No more Linking Road, hello M. G. Road. No more pani puri, hello "soup-bonda"!

Looking for a place to live is obsessing me so much the last few weeks that I've almost stopped obsessing about being single! That's an achievement indeed..I've decided on a place, on a budget and now I'm being picky. I am 30 - I wanna live like a 30 year old does (on a TV show maybe!) All you Bangaloreans (Bangalorites? Bangalorekars?) reading this post, I'm moving to Indiranagar...it's the closest thing to Bombay I can find here. And for you Bombayites, it's sorta like Lokhandwaala, Juhu Scheme and Bandra has a drunken threeway and then gave birth to something with the characteristics of all three....and named her Indiranagar! So till I find an apartment here, I'm living in the B'lore equivalent of Kandivili..for a Bandra boi - a fate worse than death.

Here's a quick reckoner (I'll have to check this often) of things I like about and don't like about my new city:

1. Like: 13th Floor, Maya and Cosmo Village
Dislike: The fact that all these bars shut down (!!) at 11.30pm!

2. Like: Spiga, Herbs and Spices, 1912
Dislike: The fact that no restaurant here can make a good Pav Bhaji!

3. Like: The awesome weather
Dislike: The fact that it will never rain hard enough for me to get a holiday from work!

4. Like: The tree lined avenues at Cubbon Road and Malleswaram
Dislike: The fact that there is almost no public transport here!

5. Like: The small town feel of much of the city
Dislike: The fact that it means everyone sleeps with the same group of people!

There will be many more I'm sure..I'm still finding my wings here. It would help if I had a bunch of folks to show me around here and hang out with. So far I'm reduced to hanging out at India Coffee House on M. G. Road drinking a coffee and watching the world go by...would be nice to do that with a bunch of people!

Till then, I have to figure out if this blog name needs changing..but then again, No. I love my Bombay far too much to wanna do that. So till then, "hog Barthini" all you lovely people!

Weird huh?

2007-04-05T12:29:00.000-07:00

I'm in Bangalore...came here for a funeral, stayed to interview for a job, perhaps plan a future.

Suddenly, I'm not sure if this is where I want to be. The cocoon that familiar surroundings and people encased me in these last 2 years seems hard to let go off. The future that seemed reachable just yesterday seems just that far away again. The sacrifices and changes called for seem just .... not fair somehow.

One spends a lifetime being the person one is today and yet, there's always something lacking. Some will make that change, some will say it's just something to get used to. Who am I? The first person or the second?

The job I just *might* get tomorrow, the fact I just *might* be moving here in 2 weeks somehow doesn't hold that excitement for me anymore.

Why do decisions have to be made? Why do people make decisions without considering how it makes someone else feel?

If I'm rambling, it's probably cause it's 1 am here in Bangalore and I'm sitting under my mango tree here on the terrace of our house (stealing my neighbor's wi-fi connection) and debating what I need to do and generally being all over the place with my feelings.

Wasn't growing up supposed to make everything feel better?

So it's Friday and i'm drunk...

2007-03-16T13:12:00.000-07:00

And back from Hawaiian Shack as usual. The only reason I'm online this late (it's 2 am) is cause my dad is up watching the Cricket World Cup (Hooray! 3 more weeks of having the TV on till 5 am while my dad whoops it up everytime some nobody from Ireland or Holland hits a six. ) The only reason I spent 800 bucks to drink warm rum and coke at the Shack - is to escape the dreary feeling I get watching what has got to be the most useless sport ever invented (unless of course it's India playing...then Irfan Pathan has my full attention)

Anyway, it's been a while since I last blogged..since then I've turned 30, quit my job, gained 5 kilos, found a new favorite song, lost a friend, gained a friend...

Observations (while being drunk...only 5 RCs tonight- I gave up beer on my birthday and it's hurting bad. I miss my Kingfisher!)

1. I finally found a date (or rather he found me..) for my birthday and had an absolute blast turing 30 with a guy on my arm. All the way from Bangalore! Then again, the only people who did respond to my date search were from outta town. Looks like Bombay boys have had enough of me!

2. "I wanna dance with somebody" is my new favourite song. It really speaks to me (in a way "Sexy Back" never did). It's weird how this song really speaks to me. Then again, dancing and singling along after a few too many drinks can make any song "speak to me"...

3. India is the only place where straight men will sing "I will survive" and "La Isla Bonita" out loud. And I love them for it!

4. I need a fag hag. Since Meenu left me to move back to the US, I've been hag-less. And it sucks. Tonight I went out clubbing with a fag and his hag. And you know what? It's such a close relation that fags have with their hags, it's kinda hard to break in and be social..all those inside jokes, all those special dance moves...I miss you Meenu! I haven't found anyone who will go out with me and indulge me as I scope out cuties! And no one dance to "Bin tere sanam" better than you!

5. I want kids. Well, first I need a boyfriend who will stay with me for more than 6 months..then I need to make sure he isn't shagging guys on the side (which in Bombay? Good luck!). THEN I need to make sure that's what he wants too..then I need to make sure we're stable enough for it..Then I need to make sure I can afford it..then....

I'm never having kids, am I?

6. I went to my first funeral last week. Well, I mean to the actual cremation ground. It was quite the eye-opener. We Hindus take death quite well compared to the weeping and wailing and "closure" we keep hearing about when some Westerner dies..I came back home and wrote my will. I'll be donating all my organs, wrote a "do not resucitate" bit and gave my entire collection of British comedies to someone I know will appreciate them. Then I sat back and wondered what it feels like to die. Morbid much?

7. Did I spell "resucitate" correctly?

I think I'm heading off to bed. First cook up some Maggi noodles (the perfect alcohol soaker in my opinion) and then wrap self in quilt (in 30 C weather..I know...but I can't sleep without a heavy coverlet of sorts..or a warm body next to me) and hope that the cricket is done so I can watch my nightly dose of "Lost" before I crash and dream of Brad Pitt and me adopting some Vietnamese kid (Who needs Angeline when he has me!)

Cheers! Hic!

Just me and the ol' right hand

2007-01-14T23:09:00.000-08:00

Yep. That's it - For all you sceptics who assume I'm all booked for the bash.

My dance card for the party.

20 days and not one email message. I'm relaxing the wants even more - Just be alive.

vikneedsadate@yahoo.co.in

Update time

2007-01-08T05:16:00.000-08:00

25 days to the big day and here's a few updates.

1. Not even one email applying to be my birthday date. Maybe I should relax my conditions. I will settle for all conditions relaxed except for the sexy ass in tight jeans. I think I am entitled a sexy ass'ed date after all I shit I've been through in my twenties.
*shakes fist at heavens and mouths "Bhagwaan maine tumse aaj tak kuch nahin maanga" dialogue*

2. The "No Beer" New year resolution is holding fast. Though I have been sorely tempted by the assorted open bars I've been to the last week or so. I always assumed temptation came as a man with horns and a tail wearing skin tight leather pants brandishing a pitchfork (Be still my trembling heart). Instead, I've come to discover it's for the most part a smiling bald Gujju friend holding out an ice cold, tall mug of beer...

3. The "Fruit only on one day of the week" rule has been modified to "Hanging out with fruit only on one day of the week". Didn't require much modification. The bananas stayed constant.

4. I am on a personal crusade tomake sure Size 12 mojdis are available for all us big foot Indians. 6 shops on Linking Road and all I could find was size 10. And seriously? Dancing at a sangeet followed by dancing at a baraat in shoes that are two sizes too small for you? TORTURE! I now have bleeding feet to match those so prominently displayed at my neighborhood Pali Naka cross.

5. Yes. I just compared myself to Jesus. I forgive you for the brickbats you're gonna throw my way.

6. I love Rakhi Sawant. She's bold, brash and crass. If I was straight, I'd hire her as my bai. And then ogle her as she swabs the floor.

7. WTF is up with winter in this benighted city? It's late evening here in Bombay and I have both the fan and the AC on! And I'm still sweating. Meanwhile, Delhi is at freezing point. Methinks it's time to pay the Dumb Punju Stereotypes of Delhi a visit. "I'm cold, hug me tighter please!"

8. "The Apprentice" as well as "America's Next Top Model" start their new seasons this week. As does "American Idol". How can I stand the excitement! I am going to be glued to the idiot box three nights a week. Bartenders at Seijo, Zenzi and Totos, will you miss me?

9. I just realized I have 7 Amits and 5 Rahuls on my cellphone. Why can't the gay bois in Bombay pick better fake names? I'd go with Raghunath or Manmohan or even Ignatius Sebastian Francis Almeida. I so like to stand out in a crowd!

10. I just found a dead fly in my lunchtime sandwich. I think I'm going to do the Princess Di thing and yak all into the ceramic throne for the next 10 minutes. And then sleep with my equerry and hook up with an Egyptian millionaire. Stay away from Parisian tunnels though!

Curret music:

Aiwa - Darine.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j6E05HrqlEs
Here's the link..low production values but such a catchy little song. I'd move to Lebanon in a heartbeat if it wasn't for Baba Ganouj and Hezbollah..

Wanted!

2006-12-20T17:47:00.000-08:00

40 days to the big day and I'm still dateless. And no where close to even getting dateful.

Got the venue - no prizes for guessing where I want it, the list - friends, family and 'family", the music to be passed on to DJ who doesn't really care a damn so long as he has his drink, the clothes - those were picked out a year ago..I just need to fit into them now! I seem to have assumed I'd still be my slender-waisted self (wasp-waisted?) .. instead shapewise I'm about as close to Konkani priest as possible. Thank you paneer makhni and beer. Without you where would I be?

All that remains is the arm candy. The hottest accessory this side of the Mahim creek.

Since I've somehow managed to spend a whole year totally unaware of how it is one goes about in Bombay acquiring said accessory - I'm going to try something both traditional and modern. Traditional in terms of the Swayamvara system of finding yourself some hot boys (Though I suspect they just asked their daddies to invite around some princes) and modern in terms of the Survivor system of weeding out the weakest links. I know I know...I can just log onto one of the myriad "dating" sites online and get started on answering all the "Hallo dear" emails that will flood my inbox daily. But somehow I think this is more fun..Atleast I won't have to put down cock size, position and place availablity here!

If you've read my blog before, you probably have some idea of what I'm looking for in a relationship. Well, this is not one of "those" kinds of "I want someone".

All I want is a date for my 30th birthday in little over 1.5 months from now. You should be smart, intelligent, funny, cosmopolitan, erudite, witty, well-read, a good dancer, cute and tall. I don't care if you're white, black, brown or green. You need to be in Bombay or be able to fly to Bombay for said date purpose in the first week of February. You need to be affectionate, cheerful, masculine and have a biggish nose. Dress well and casually in a pair of jeans that shows off your ass to it's best advantage. You should be able to put up with my friends - every one of them - for that night. They will be flirty, bitchy, sexy, fondly, crazy, prancy and insecure. Like Snow White, I have my 7 men too.

Interested candidates may email me at vikneedsadate@yahoo.co.in with a photograph, a witty one-liner and a letter from your mom telling me why you would be best suited to accompany me on said date. I promise to treat all emails in total confidence and reply to every one of them. In case of a tie (Yes, I'm optimistic there will be more than one person replying), I will ask you both a few questions and depending on how you answer them, I'll make my choice.

Then again, I might pick you both. I do have two arms you know...and there's plenty of Vik to go around.

Yes folks. It has come down to this.

Truer words were never said..

2006-12-18T21:55:00.000-08:00

"Don't let someone become a priority in your life when all you are is an option in theirs"

I got this text message from someone a couple of weeks ago and have been pondering this statement for a while now. More like putting this statment into context with people and relationships in my life.

So true. So very true.

Aahhh, it's been a while!

2006-11-27T02:07:00.000-08:00

Muchos gracias to all those who missed me and kept emailing and commenting away till I just couldn't delete them fast enough....If I ever win the Grammy (or whatever it is bloggers win), I'd like to thank all of you under the generic "friends". Keep a look out for that. (I'll be wearing my pimped out white coat).

Life has been busy..work is kicking my ass. Well, not so much work as the boss. Which is all good and fine but which leaves me exhausted physically and mentally at the end of the day. Or perhaps I'm just getting old. I can't seem to drink or party as much any more and people are starting to bore me to tears! I'm dreading the day when the first white pube makes an appearance. It's anytime now...

The only thing that keeps me sane is window shopping at Esprit on Linking Road (where the adorable salesman is probably sick of me trying stuff on and walking out) and clubbing at Hawaiian Shack on the weekends. Though lately I've been skipping Olive nights on Thursday to make a random stop at the Shack. It's so refreshing to get away from the pretentious, richie-rich prats that infest Olive (including me in my over-priced shoes) and head over to the Shack for some good ol' Bandra boys and girls. Beer tastes so much better when you're dancing to "Sexy Back" by Justin Timberlake at the Shack instead of that g-dawful Benny Benassi remix of California Dreaming that the DJ at Olive thinks is so cool. P.S. How fucking awesome is Sexy Back! It's like my new sex song - dethroning "Enjoy" by Bjork. All I have to do is figure out how to keep that bloody Ipod plugged in while I'm doin' the nastee. (I just found out that one of my friends shakes his groove thang to Hindustani classical music....yikes!)

What else has been happening? Well, I'm all charged up and ready for the sis who's showing up in a couple of days to do what every good Indian girl has to do atleast once in her life - get married. (Actually I think a "good" Indian girl will only do that once .. quite similar to a blowjob) So, life is exciting (sorta)..I've had to put up with assorted auntiejis telling me "You're next hanh!" Grinning and bearing it is getting to be quite a chore. Reminds me of a painful series of dates I had recently where I had to really struggle to stay awake through the BORING dates. I settled for a fixed smile and happy thoughts - puppies, paneer mountains and naked frat boys.

I spent what I (and everyone else) thinks is a bleedin' fortune on a sherwani for the wedding...20 grand. Yikes. And they don't even come with matching mojdis! My mum's rationalized the expense by telling me I could always wear it to my wedding. She hasn't grasped the fact that I'd have to move to Canada or South Africa to do that. Or the fact that I'd need a boy who would wanna spend more than 45 minutes with me. Till then, the sherwani goes into cold storage. Very cold storage.

Still, I love weddings. And this will be a blast. I get teary at weddings. Not at Konkani weddings though. They're so busy and insane that there's almost not time to figure out what the hell's happeneing. Even the groom and bride end up looking shell-shocked in most of their pictures. I wonder how the sis is gonna react to 1500 of our closest relatives and friends showing up to greet her! Conversations with cousins who've been through that always involve mention of the back ache that results from our charming custom of touching the feet of EVERYONE older than you to get their blessings. Poor poor poor sis. Bending over a 1000 times. And she's not even a gay boi in Bombay.

Next time? Pictures of the sherwani! Pictures of the diamonds! Pictures of me wondering when my turn will come!

Till then:
Current Music:
Sexy Back - Justin Timberlake

It's 4 pm on a Monday and this song makes me wanna fuck. What's new?

Thinking about my future..

2006-10-19T05:06:00.000-07:00

Contemplating life at Bandra Land's End
Twilight, October 18th 2006

Why I love my city..a photo blog

2006-10-11T23:15:00.000-07:00

A collection of pictures of Bombay stuff that I've taken over the last year or so...This is what keeps me a true blue Bombayite. However much I may bitch and moan about how stressful this city is, how expensive it is and how dirty it can be, I just look at these pictures I've taken and love it that teeny-weeny bit more.

I clicked this awesome Photoshopped image of Bombay life at the Kalaghoda festival in Bombay last year. I really think it captured the regular images of South Bombay that we see on the way to work everyday...

Flora gazing at the monsoon sky. I just caught this giant black cloud moving accross the sky as I was looking up at the top of the fountain.
(Flora Fountain monsoon 2005)

Burkha clad women dodging traffic in Mahim. View from my taxi window on the way back home to Bandra.

The walls of the Bombay Naval Dockyard. Notable ships built here include the ship that the Star Spangled Banner was written on and the HMS Trincomalee - the largest timber vessel built. (The Naval Dockyard also hosts some of the last walls of the original Bombay Fort)

A Sunday afternoon on Juhu Beach. This is the view from the Vie end of the beach (for you clubbing types) looking towards Versova. I love the incredibly over-dressed beachgoers.

G-d is a Bombaywallah.
And He will argue with an imposter.

Lund and Blockey Opticians at Kalaghoda...right next to the David Sassoon Reading Room (Members only, please do not spit)
I love this picture because it could easily be the 1890's. Except for this taxi that passed by just as I was clicking the picture.

Gazing up at the Rajabai tower at Bombay University. Since they've just opened it up for visits again, I'm sure I'll get some great pictures of Bombay from up there.

Looking out from one of the balconies of Victoria Terminus towards the Municipal Corporation building. Or as it is today, looking out from Chhatrapati Shivaji Terminus to the BrihanMumbai Municipal Corporation.

Flora contemplating her city..Flora Fountain, South Bombay. I love the old-world, mossy look that the fountain has during the monsoon.

The corridors at Bombay University. You've got to hand it to the British architects...they sure knew how to make a place look hallowed..

Just another lazy evening at the Gateway of India..This is what the ordinary Bombayite does on a holiday evening. Gasp for breath at one of the few open plazas in the city...this one right by the sea.

Graffitti was never truer.
Kalaghoda Art Festival, 2005.

Gastronomic delight

2006-10-07T01:18:00.000-07:00

Friday nights and the lights are low..
Looking out for a place to go..

It's been 4 Fridays in a row I've been at Hawaiian Shack, and it's getting a bit old. The music is the same (well, the music is great, but the DJ plays them in the same order even!), the people are the same - the white guy drinking his scotch and smoking a ciggie at the end of the bar seems to have been welded there!

So when Shailen asked me if I'd like to join him and a few friends to head over to Mohammed Ali Road in South Bombay for post-Ramadan fast revelry, I jumped at the offer. I did have to clear up a few misgivings from assorted friends and family - It's the ghetto! You're going there that late? You know "those people" don't like us! They slaughter cows right there! What if there's a riot or a bomb blast there? Anyway, me being the cosmopolitan secular street-wise Bombayite cast all these canards and fears aside and headed off with 6 fags to experience the delight that is the Muslim quarter of Bombay.

It's Ramadan and every Muslim - except the booze-swilling, joint-smoking, unnatural sex-having ("He puts what in where?") ones I know is fasting from dawn to dusk and eating what looks like insanely colored and smelling food all night. The 7 of us met up at Bohri Mohalla just off Mohd. Ali Road and headed into the tiny bylanes that snake through the area like veins on an old auntieji's hand (That was a "simile"- for people who studied Wren and Martin like the gospel when they were younger). We stopped at this place called "barahandi" (Twelve pots) where there were GIANT pots full of assorted parts of goat simmering and bubbling away. We picked up a few table-mat sized naans and ordered a plate of paayaa (trotters) and nihaari (marrow) so we could try out what in my Brahmin house is considered food that sends you straight to hell. I couldn't bring myself to try either but the consensus at the table was that the paayaa was quite melt in the mouth but the nihaari was the true breakfast of champions in this duel.

We wrapped up the rest of the naan and walked past the Syedna's mausoleum in the heart of the Bohri Mohalla. It's this very Mughal looking marble tomb towering high above the ghetto-y architechture of the nouveau-riche Muslim. Quite pretty actually when they light it up. We passed scores of Bohra men running into prayer (I never really realized this, Bohra men wear a white muslin jacket over their clothes when they pray) while their womenfolk stood around window shopping (It was 10 pm at night and the stores were all open!) Anyway, we found this kebabchi who had tables all along the side of the road and we ordered boti and seekh kebabs and chicken tikka for po' ol' me. Some of the guys wanted to try out the khiri (cow udders) but the thought of me passing out watching them eat it made them rethink the idea. Anyway, the total bill - 7 of us remember! - came to Rs. 188!! That's less than what I pay for a medium Pizza! OMG! I am eating here from now on. The kebabs were good - a bit spicy for my taste but then again, the years of living on a butter and cream diet in the States have altered my Indian taste buds.

We then chose to eat dessert..cause nothing says Indian festival than hours and hours of stuffing vast quantities of milk and sugar based food down your throat! A longish walk later, we found ourselves at Suleiman Mithaiwalla and in the midst of what has got to be the greatest frikkin' population density EVER. I swear there were like 200,000 people crowded into about 5 city blocks. I broke away to go get some malpuwa - this pancake like deep fried dough bound with egg and doused in sugar, typically eaten smothered in malai (cream). It was big enough for all of us to share..and just out of the deep fryer, so it was also about 5000C and dripping oil. Deep fried, coated in sugar and dripping with oil. I'm almost having an orgasm typing this...

The others ended up with eating tons of phirni, some very weirdly colored milk desserts and a chocolate and pistachio covered malai roll that almost brought me to my knees. I discovered stuff about myself last night.
1. I love sweet stuff.
2. I will eat tons of it given the chance and if no one's looking.
3. I will secretly pack some away so I can spend the rest of the night (I ended up sleeping at 4 am) eating it.

After all this, none of us was in the mood to brave the crowds to get some kheema-pau (spicy mincemeat in bread) or some teetar (partridge) so I just hopped into a cab with 3 of the guys and headed back to Shivaji Park for some coffee and a whole lot of conversation.

All in all, it was a splendid evening. I got to see a culture and a side of Bombay that I'm most ignorant about. Women in veils, men with beards, kebabs on every street corner, mosques everywhere, shops open way after the rest of the city shuts down, cheap tasty food, old men selling ittar at the street lights, beggars, tumbledown highrises with an occasional gem of a building sandwiched, burkhas on sale, two-wheelers everywhere, giant cauldrons of assorted meats and rice, lights, noise, smells....It was an experience!

Can't wait for Eid so I can actually experience this on a scale about ten times greater. Any volunteers to join me then?

Current Music:
In Aankhon ki masti ke - Umrao Jaan

I wonder if there's any kothas left in the old quarter..maybe I can actually get to see someone who's not a gay man dance a mujra to this song?

Hymn for Her

2006-09-30T04:28:00.000-07:00

ayi raNadurmadashatruvadhodita durdharanirjara shaktibhrute
chaturavicharadhuriiNamahasiva dutakrita pramathaadhipate
duritaduriihaduraashayadurmati daanavaduta krutaantamate
jaya jaya he mahishaasuramardhini ramyakapardini shailasute

Mastering the tounge twisting verse number 5 of the Mahishasuramardhini hymn, I am now 20 for 20 ! Tonight is going to ROCK at Puja at the Ramakrishna Mission...must get there early so I don't end up sitting away from a ceiling fan!

I stumbled my way through this verse at Saptami puja yesterday...I could feel the disapproval from some busybody uncleji for my Sanskrit mispronunciation. "duritaduriihaduraashayadurmati" totally got me. Then again, he should be glad I came. Just by showing up, I lowered the average age at the bhajan to 65.

I'm absolutely loving the aartis at Puja as usual. I show up early by 6.45 pm so I get a good seat up close so I can watch all the rituals and not be scolded by the docent.."Brother, zaraa aage please". I think I was spotted by a couple of great-aunts of mine and had to beat a hasty retreat after the Mahishasuramardini. The last year, they questioned me for 30 minutes about what I was looking for in a girl! I think I earned their approval when I said "religious". Hah! That impressed them enough to not hear the part where I mentioned an 8-inch dick also being a requirement. Or a dream. Whatever.

So, it's MahaAshtami tonight..and a Saturday. Which means I have to debate between wearing my FabIndia kurta (and look very Bong while I'm doing that) or wear something clubby so I can just head to Hawaiian Shack right after. Decisions, Decisions...Well, so far, I've been in jeans and a tight tshirt for Sashti, capris and a vest for Saptami. Maybe kurta is the way to go. I should start looking festive too while celebrating the festival I suppose.

Going through my old blog post, I realized about this time last year I was pining away for someone who probably didn't feel the same for me. This year, I'm single, footloose and fancy free and LOVING it. One year is more than enough time to get over someone looks like.

And yeah, in case you were wondering what Verse number 5 that I keep stumbling on means, here's an English translation.

Oh, it is You Who possesses the invinceable force that vanquishes hard-to subdue
enemies in battle
Who promoted Pramatha, the great attendant of Shiva, a master of subtle
thinking, to be Her general in battle,
Who destroyed the messengers of the demons, who were sinful, with evil
intention in their thoughts and minds,
Victory, victory to You, Oh Slayer of the Buffalo Demon!
Victory, Daughter of the Himalayas, with beautifully braided hair!

Oh! How I love being Hindu! You can keep your "Lord is my shepherd" and "God the merciful". I gots me a "Slayer of the Buffalo Demon"!

Innappropriateness rocks!

2006-09-18T23:07:00.000-07:00

Courtesy http://www.pbfcomics.com/

I have come to the conclusion that I have the sickest sense of humor of anyone I know. Well, a couple of people I know come close to it, but most of my friends are way too PC to even admit that they find any of this remotely funny.

I've shut up entire parties relating my endless repretoire of "dead baby" jokes....the silence that usually follows a rendition of my favorite three can only be broken by the sound of some auntieji fainting or some chappie saying "That's not funny in the least". Ah well, to each his (or her) own, I say! I remember cracking up at Helen Keller and Stevie Wonder jokes, Michael Jackson jokes made me choke on my burrito (OK, so that's not a euphemism..). I heart Pope jokes as for the MCP ones? I've risked beatings when I've shared them with my rather "haalthy and waalthy" female friends (Several of who are from the greater Delhi area....Delhi breeds them big and fighter-cock like)

Does this mean I'm a bad person? Well yes and no. I crack up at these jokes but my heart's in the right place (for the most part it's somewhere around my knee...). Do I really want dead babies in microwaves? Do I want Hellen Keller's dog to pee on her leg? Do I want Micheal Jackson to be anywhere close to a boy? Well, not really...but it's funny if it happens.

So in the immortal words of some woman on the Ricki Lake show (I was addicted..I'd TIVO it so I could watch it after I got home from work), "Y'all don't know me!" and "Don't hate, appreciate!".

I leave you with three of my favorite dead baby jokes. I've left out the more offensive ones (cause they are certainly not for a couple of weak-hearted peeps I know that read this....and I don't want to pay for your stroke-recovery at Bombay hospital..)

1. What's the difference between a truck full of bowling balls and a truck full of babies?
You can't unload the bowling balls with a pitchfork.

2. Three expectant mothers are sitting in the obstetrician's waiting room, smiling to themselves and knitting.

One lady puts down her knitting, picks up her handbag, takes out a bottle of pills, swallows one, then continues knitting. She sees the other two looking at her and explains, "Vitamins. Good for mother, good for little baby."

The second lady puts down her knitting, picks up her handbag, takes out a bottle of pills, swallows one, then continues knitting. She pats her stomach and says, "Essential minerals. Good for mother, good for little baby."

The third lady puts down her knitting, picks up her handbag, takes out a bottle of pills, swallows one, then continues knitting. She glances at the other two, smiles and shrugs and says, "Thalidomide. I can't knit sleeves."

3. Why was the dead baby in the tree?
The neighborhood kids lost their frisbee...

Junk food rocks!

2006-09-14T23:05:00.000-07:00

I will walk a million miles for a good Pani Puri

-Thanks for the pic and company Lukky Toni!

Oooh! Look! A book tag!

2006-09-08T01:29:00.000-07:00

I've been pierced..again. Amma hasn't noticed it yet. She is so not gonna like this one! It's big, obvious and marring the body that G-d gave me (unpierced and flawless...if you discount the longer-than-needed eyelashes and ginormous lips). As soon as the oozing and bleeding stop, I'll put up a pic up here..the pain? Well, after the novocaine shot, I havent't felt anything since. Then again, the long island iced teas at Olive that I liberally imbibed might also have a role to play in this!

Anyhoo, I've been tagged by my immensely talented, well-read friend Roswitha and what do you know! It's a book tag. Woot! Here ya go then:

1. One book that changed your life?

If I were running for the Republican nomination for Prez in 2008, I'd say the Bible. But I'm not, so dare I say "Hollywood Wives" by Jackie Collins? The first book I read that had sex in liberal doses all over..Ross and Elaine Conti, the gay butler who shags the champagne stealing waiter, the movie director who has a heart attack on top of his over-endowed girlfriend and is still "connected" to her on the trip to the E.R. Whew! For a 12 year old Indian boy, this sure did change my life. In "more" ways than I care to think about...

2. One book you have read more than once?

"Russka" by Edward Rutherfurd. A book that builds on my love for Slavic history (Just a notch below my love for Slavic men). Russka is the tale of 3 Russian families from the town of Russka from Avar times through Mongol invasions, Ivan Grozny and the Romanovs ending with the fall of Communism. I just love how the story meanders and the culture, history and lifestyle of Russia is brought out so well in this book. I read this book about once every couple of months.

3. One book you would want on a desert island?

Not a book as much as a series of books. I'd pick the "Masters of Rome" series by Colleen McCullough. Beginning with The First Man in Rome and ending with the October Horse. Combining my intense passion for history with my just as intense passion for politics and law making, this series has it all! I can just close my eyes and imagine the pageant that was late Republican Rome...smell the garum, watch the mimes, cower before Sulla, hail Caesar Triumphator, gossip about the Caecilli Metteli, boo Vercingetorix...I can read these books forever and not get bored.

4. One book that made you cry?

"Pride and Prejudice" by Jane Austen. The bit where Jane's pining away waiting for Bingley to come by and gets her hopes cruelly crushed by the evil Bingley sisters. There's this incredible sadness about the whole crushing of hopes thing that's going on here, the whole "We are too good for the likes of you" bit that I find so incredibly sad. (Dare I say it - I've felt that very same emotion here in class-obsessed Bombay as well)

Also (and many of you will hate me for this) I cried when Sirius Black was killed by Bellatrix Lestrange (I LOVE her) in the "Harry Potter" series. It's just the fact that Harry was so close to actually being happy with family, and that chance is snatched away before his eyes. Tragic.

5. One book that made you laugh?

Anything "Jeeves and Wooster" by P.G. Wodehouse. Especialy now that I have Stephen "Jeeves" Fry and Hugh "Bertie" Laurie to visualize as I read them. The escape from Honoria Glossop, the drama of Madeleine Bassett, the terror of the gaggle of aunts (Agatha, Dahlia, Constance), the newt collection of Gussie Fink-Nottle...It's a laugh a minute!

"If not actually disgruntled, he was far from being gruntled."

6. One book you wish had been written?

Ooh tough one. Probably a book about the Konkani community sorta liek the awesome tomes about the Parsis and the Indian Jews that I just read. For a community that (depending on religious definitions) is between 2 and 8 million people, we have almost no literature about us. Well, how long can we claim the effects of the Portuguese Inquisition and subsequent loss of script and literature as excuses?

7. One book you wish had never been written?

Anything by Ayn Rand. I am SO NOT a fan of the extremely dreary, tedious and hopelessly preachy stuff she writes. Followed VERY closely by the crappy Deepak Chopra pop-philosophy that every two-bit actor and actress in Bombay "claims" to have inspired them.

8. One book you are currently reading?

"The House of Rotshchild - Money's Prophets 1798-1848 Vol.1" by Niall Fergusson. Much as the author pisses me off with his unabashed love for British and currenlty American imperialism, this book is a fascinating read about the most powerful banking family in the world and just how much they influenced European (and global) politics and contributed to the economic powerhouse that Western Europe is today all thanks to family connections and brains.

9. One book you have been meaning to read?

I've been reading David Plotz' amazing take on "Blogging the Bible" on slate.com (He's on Deutoronomy now). It's amazingly well written...which means I'm about ready to start delving into the Old Testament myself now...and this time NOT the abridged version. Genesis, Exodus, Leviticus, Numbers and Deuteronomy..here I come! (Maybe this will give me brownie points when I go down to Israel in search of my hottie sabra)

10. Tag five people.

Okay! Hob Gadling, Ameet, Mitli Mizz, Craiggers and Thej.

It's cloudy and I'm thinking out loud

2006-09-01T02:17:00.000-07:00

1. I love Nelly Furtado. Not just because she has a Bandra Mac aunty name...she sings these amazing songs. And what a voice! Plus she sings in Portuguese (and English) which has surpassed Italian in my head as the most romantic sounding language ever. Bengali runs a close third. I think "Scared of you" is my new favorite song...

2. It's baby time in my friend's lives. I guess 30 is the new "must have kid now" age. I'm going to be chacha and mama to many little kiddos this month alone. Starting off with baby Anjali. Congrats Bhawana and Atul. *makes mental budget how much it's gonna cost me to be the favorite uncle*

3. I think I haven't been going to the GB parties a lot anymore. This past weekend, there's been this influx of hotties to the party. Either that's the case or I've just been starved of male bods. A few months on a diet and even a salad is starting to look pretty good wot?

4. No Bali this year for New Years. I'm sad. And I'm sorry Ameet and Andy. I just got my ear chewed off by Sanj and Shwe for neglecting my Best Man duties and running off to Bali to look at beefy Aussies and skinny Indonesians. Instead, I'll be organizing a bachelor party and putting on my happiest face when the busty stripper does a lap dance for me. (I've been banned from inviting male strippers...)

5. Is eating pani puri in the monsoon a sure sign of inviting disaster? I've been craving it all week and been sneaking off after dinner to Linking Road to get my daily Karachi Mithaiwala pani puri fix. I've had to hide this from my family and my friends..though I think my mom suspects. She smelt boondi marinated in khara pani on my breath last night. Oh the shame!

6. I need to get myself adopted by some rich old Parsi woman. A friend of mine just inherited 3 (yes, 3!!) flats in Bombay after some 3rd. cousin twice removed died and left him everything. The shithead is now worth a few million! It's way better than my method of slogging for minimum wage and saving every paisa.

7. I hate the "Shirdi waale Sai Baba" song. It's driving me nuts. All thanks to the obnoxious Ganesh pandal up the road from me that seems to have trained its loudspeaker right in the direction of my window at work. Dare I drop in my Eminem Cd into the donation box this evening?

And finally,
8. Yes Ryan, I am full of myself. In case you haven't noticed this is "my" blog..and you've had fair warning in the intro to the blog. Just paraphrasing again .."Ergo, this will be a blog about me..yada yada yada". Hell hath no fury like the Vikster scorned. Or denied of Paneer Makhani every couple of weeks.

Current Music:
Rock el Casbah - Rachid Taha

This is SO much better than the original. I'm guessing cause Rachid probably has his "umm" still living in the Casbah..

Reflections on a photoshoot

2006-08-17T00:29:00.000-07:00

Audition time and I realized I neither had a set of pictures with me in them nor the cash to actually go get something professional. I tried all my contacts - some were in Goa, one was getting married, one was err..in financial difficulties and would charge me a bomb. In full panic mode (and after intense procrastination...both usually my hallmarks), I finally agreed to head out to Lokhandwala with my cool friend (and fellow Tshirt shopper) Sonali to check out the studios there. After all, with wannabe actors and models a dime a dozen (or Rs. 4.67 a dozen to be more patriotic) there, I was bound to find someone there who could hide my blemishes (read stress zits) and make me look ...er... "cool".

Finally, I found someone cool, interesting, experienced and what was most important - in my price range (strangely also my criterion for a prospective date) and set up an appointment for the next day. He asked me to bring several changes of clothes ("Only cool ones please, no fullsleeve shirts or pleat-wallah pants") and wear makeup! Well, I wore makeup once in grade school (I was Dr. Sunlight in our school's production of some bizarro play encouraging 4th graders to take personal hygeine seriously) and I wasn't planning on wearing any again...unless you count the foundation I'm forced to use to hide hickeys..

I went through my wardrobe (3 shelves of a Godrej steel behemoth) and finally found something "cool". An el-cheapo shirt I bought at Fascination that had grown (or shrunk rather..) to become my favorite shirt and a pair of jeans. Full of trepidation, I headed to Lokhandwalla and the photoshoot where I discovered I was to be shot outdoors...on a VERY busy street no less. Oh how fun! How do the skanks at America's Next Top Model do it? I'll tell you why they have no problems...cause there's not 200 unemployed men staring at them from 5 feet away while they try their best to pose! That's why! Anyway, I wa frogmarched (that's the word for it...phottographer to one side, lighting assistant on other and chai-walla lackey bringing up the rear) into a carpenter's shop where I was supposed to "pose" with err..tools. While I've had my share of posing with "tools", these were a set I'd never seen in my pampered middle-class life. Much to the amusement of assorted carpenters (Jesus?), I proceeded to pretend to saw a plank of wood and plane it. (OK, so I just re-read that sentence and every cell in me is screaming to make it "pretend to "see" a plank of wood")

It's hard to get direction! 'Look cool", I'm ordered. What the Fuck is that? If I knew how to look cool, I'd be draped around a hottie at Zenzi or something instead of sweating at a carpenter shop! Plus, it's just as hard to "look cool" on demand as it is to "say something funny". My photographer cracks me up trying to show me what cool is. Then he scolds me for smiling and tells me to look serious instead. And cool at the same time. I am never gonna win this one methinks. Anyway, the deed is done..and off to Photoshop it goes! Time to get rid of those scars, zits and blotches that the Bombay air has carefully deposited on my skin. All done and I see it on the computer. I'm SO embarassed as the entire photo studio comes around to see the results. I quickly pick up the shots and exit right. The next day at the audition, the "almost too young to be critiquing me" people pick up the one that's least hideous and say we're filing this away for future reference. And don't call us, we'll call you. Umm. OK. I mentally notch up another ..notch? on my cliches I've heard list. It ranks right up there with "It's not you, it's me" and "I'm just not ready for a committment right now".

I met my awesome friend Andy for a coffee and for some honest-to-goodness, no-sugar-coating views on my photos. He gulped, sighed and asked me what mood I was in at that moment. I said I felt vunerable, alone and insecure. "Yep, you look good!" he says. I wonder if the answer would have been different if I told him I was feeling awesome, top of the world and my self esteem hadn't been better. "Of course, that would change everything" he replies...these pictures are bad! Fat, fat, fat, bald, cold, fat, vacant. There.

Anyway, in the truest tradition of my favorite show on reality TV (till the Amazing Race comes back on) America's Next Top model...I present to you....my best shot.

Ooh Aah Ouch!

2006-07-27T22:59:00.000-07:00

The Iron Maiden of Nuremberg.

A torture device par excellence in Germany in the Middle Ages. Now found at that peculiar institution that doubles as a gay man's temple, church,mosque and synagogue rolled into one. The Gym.

Well, not the Iron Maiden itself (though a certain instructor at the Gold's Gym in Bandra could very much qualify for that moniker) But all the assorted torture devices that I've been put through in the last week that I've been "gymming".

I finally succumbed to the lure of attractive hotties parading on St. John's road everyday and walked in with them one afternoon last week. I signed up, forked over a huge chunk of change and err...went shopping! After all, I need working out clothes...

Time to gym. Err.. just what is locker room protocol in India? In the US, everyone just lets everything hang out...which has lead to many traumatic sightings of obese, elderly men with teeny weenies in my past. In "des", I see a lot of the ol' "Indian man changing undies under a towel" bit. First you hop about on one leg, then on the other - all the while clutching at the towel around your waist for dear life. Anyway, I picked a dark corner (My abs aren't at peak "look at me" potential yet) and changed into what seemed like way too much gear. I mean, who needs a wristband anyway?

I'm assigned a trainer who looks like a pitbull. Seriously. He has no neck and about 200 inches of chest. And a high pitched voice. I try not to laugh at how silly this tableau is and concentrate as he tells me in Marathi what I'm supposed to do to look like him someday (He decides I'm Marathi and will only converse with me in that language inspite of me struggling with translations for "I'm dying here" and "Please turn the fucking treadmill off"). He measures me up and says I need a couple of inches here and there and I'd look just like him. Whatever. I'm about 50 inches down on getting arms like him. He must be either blind or a very good motivator. I settle for blind cause here I am with my shirt off and he won't even comment on it...let alone ask me to join him for a protein shake at the juice bar.

10 minutes later and I'm huffing and puffing on a treadmill. I don't think I've ever run in one place since 1998. I wonder if this is a good time to bring up the fact I have asthma and my inhaler is in the locker room. I decide against it when I realize the only Marathi word for disease I know is that for "smallpox". After all, I don't need guys in head-to-toe bio-hazard equipment escorting me out of Gold's Gym..it's hard enough attracting the boys in the first place! I concentrate on what's playing on the TV above my head. It's some show on cooking what looks like eggplant. Is that really a help? I mean watching people make food at a gym? It's hard to follow what's happening with no sound. It's even harder to concentrate when you're running on #8 with an incline of 3. Damn. I should have jogged Zig Zag Road instead of settling for the flat Carter's promenade! My thighs ache.

Free weight time! I flex looking at myself in the mirror. Then I catch sight of a long-nosed Punjabi hottie looking at me and sniggering. I look away embarassed (Note to self: Only work out in non-cruisy hours) Aim High! Isn't that what my teachers always taught me? I plan on aiming high now. Go straight for the heavy weights. OK....the first set isn't too bad. The second set? I already am regretting my choice. Am I even gonna get to the third set? My arms are on fire. My chest seems to have caved in. The trainer stops by. "Sampla ka?" he asks me ("Are you done yet?") "Ho" I lie. I stagger to the water cooler and down about 10 cups of cold water. I wonder if it's OK to cry at the gym.

Crawl my way to the shower and realize I'm now too weak to turn the faucet on. I feel like I've had every single spike of the Iron maiden impale my soft, yielding body. My trainer walks into the adjoining cubicle. I forgive him all his machinations to get me to do more when I realize he has an arse only Michelangelo could appreciate. Sigh. Now I know why I'm going to continue working out even though I'm detesting it after my first day itself. Cause with an arse like that, I could conquer the world.

I exit the gym and head to KFC. 2 Zinger burgers down and I'm about ready for a third. I'm guilty already.

Current Music:
Namak - Omkara

An awesome movie and an awesome song. Probably one of the only "item" numbers I truly like.

2006-07-20T06:25:00.000-07:00

After a couple of weeks of the horrors that visited my city (floods, a riot and then terrible terrorism), I’m about ready to call it quits and leave this city that I love. Bombay has always been the city I call home, wherever I may live in the world. I’ve been able to identify a Bombaywallah just from his attitude and personality..and it’s just that attitude and personality I’ve loved. The brash, inventive, exciting, purposeful energy that drives people in this great city is just what gives me the energy and motivation to live in what is otherwise a very stressful urban environment.The bomb blasts that ripped through trains in my city have done what the riots in 1992 and the blasts of 1993 haven’t been able to do to me. Perhaps I was young then and just didn’t understand the significance of just waht was happeneing. All of a sudden, in 2006, at age 29, I’m confronted by the fact that I may just never come back home one night..or have a member of my family just vanish from this earth one evening. And that scares me. Scares me enough to want to leave and move somewhere. I talked about this with Irshad the day after the blasts. He’s young, ambitious and Bombay is JUST where someone like him should live and prosper. And even he had doubts about whether this is where he’d want to settle down, raise a family and get older.

I have similar doubts. I suppose I’ve always had them even while I was planning on coming back here from Boston. Now it’s just crystallizing into a plan. This is NOT where I want to grow older.I don’t see Bombay as somewhere I can have my white picket fence, 2.3 children and black lab. Heck, I don’t see Bombay as somewhere I can have a great date - let alone a relationship! “If you change yourself, then the terrorists would have won” is what we hear every second person saying. But you know what? I’m scared of dying. There’s tons of things I want to do, want to accomplish. Where’s my magnum opus? Where’s my work of art? Where’s the kids I want to bring into my family? Where’s the man I want to spend the rest of my life with? I may just not come home tommorrow if the terrorists have their way. And that scares me.

Suddenly, a quiet life in an American suburb doesn’t look so bad. Suddenly ,my dreams of living in Israel for a year look untenable. I just want to feel safe. I just want my loved ones - family and friends to be safe as well. Since we can’t be the change we wish to see, I don’t see any other option but to leave. Perhaps then the concerned authorities will realize they need to do something to prevent their best and brightest from fleeing. Why should I agree to live in a (let’s be honest here - all romanticizing aside) crumbling city that is rift with communal and economic stresses? Why should i have to wade through knee-deep water every time it rains? Why should I be afraid to ride public transport?

Frankly, I’m just too old to deal with this shit anymore. That sense of adventure has now morphed into a sense of not wanting to deal with stress anymore. The philospohy that I use for relationships is now a philosophy I use in my day to day life. Minimize stress and drama.

What am I doing about it? Seriously looking to move - that’s a start. I’m giving myself 6 months. By then, I hope to have a ticket to somewhere in my hand. Sad but true.

I love my Bombay…but from a distance.

You-tube..No! You-tube!

2006-06-28T02:48:00.000-07:00

Ever since Salil introduced me to the wonders of uploading video snapshots and watching other people's attempts at home movies and videos, I've been addicted to You tube. So I just spent an evening browsing through and trying to find videos of all my favourite music...most of which I haven't seen (only heard) seeing as they are all International hits not to be seen on Lowest-Common-Denominator channels like Channel V and MTV (Honestly, if it wasn't for VH-1, I think I'd be in Bollywood heaven with all the Hindi only stuff that happens on music TV in India)...

Anyway, check out some of my favourite songs and their videos.

Twiggy Twiggy - Pizzicato 5.. Twiggy is what M. used to call me..cause I was obsessed by this song and I think I made him hear it like 20 times. It's also one of the cutest songs lyrics wise I know..and Nomiya Maki is soooo cute!

One Man Guy - Rufus Wainwright..One of my favourite songs sung by one of my favourite singers in one of my favourite places in the world. Sigh.

Salama ya Salama - Alabina..This group brings together both my loves..Arabic music and flamenco. *shudders as Himesh Reshammiya makes an Indian version*

Mistaneek - Natacha Atlas..I have a different version of this song, but seeing this video makes this the more appealing one.

Ya Tayr - Fairuz..I was on a date once in Boston where my Lebanese date sang this to me at a bar. Since then, I've loved this song.

Elo Hi - Ofra Haza.. You can keep your Barbra Streisand's and Judy Garlands and Madonnas..Ofra Haza will be MY true Diva.

I also love by Ofra Haza Im Nin Alu, the original of that horribly remixed 80's international hit, Kaddish, one of the few songs that gets me emotional...

And a couple from the love of my life, the father of my unborn kids, Tarkan...
Hup, Sikidim and Simarik..I close my eyes and imagine that kiss was just for me...

And finally, You-Tube is my source (thanks to Salil again) for cheesy South Indian movie songs..including my two favourites Tik Tik Tik and Love me or Hate me...always has me rolling in the aisles.

I'm currently trying to get a bunch of stuff the Orkutkars made up on You-Tube. I should probably have a link to it once I get OK's frmo everyone in it!

Current Music:
Simarik - Tarkan

Like I said, that kiss was just for me!

Musings and all that

2006-06-16T00:57:00.000-07:00

This post was supposed to be about something else but I'll just put that on the back burner for a bit (Thank you blogger.com for letting me save drafts). I've been rather incommunicado eh? Well, many reasons; the rain gods have ABANDONED me! 2 days of rain and I get so excited and happy..and then nothing for the next 2 weeks? It's enough to make anyone depressed! Especially someone who longs for dull, dark, gloomy days! Plus, I've been sick (boohoo!). Though I'm supremely grateful to be still living at home and having Amma nurse me back to health from a rather nasty bout of viral fever....varan-baath, adrak chai and Crocin - my diet for the last 4 days. I'm sure I've lost some poundage (Yes!).

Anyway, I've been musing over things. And people. Ever since VisualScribe and me went on this uber-long walk/coffeeshop haunting on Sunday. We talked about a lot of things, mainly how our views and wants ahve changed around the age 30 mark. Suddenly sex isn't that important. (I use "that" to emphasize I do like a bit of it now and then - preferably accompanied with a good dinner beforehand). It's the companionship that matters. I've been hanging around with almost exclusively coupled people the last couple of months and while they bitch and moan about not being alone to do what they want, they always have someone to do it with. That's what us single people are missing really. I mean when you're 25 it's all about the next fuck, at 30 suddenly it starts looking very different. You miss the physical closeness of someone, the mental peace of sharing your deepest issues and needs with someone, the emotional stability a partner provides. (I'm guessing at 35 it moves into the cynical view that single is best) I watched this Sex and the City episode a few nights ago when Carrie turns 35 and no one shows up to her birthday party. That episode really touched me because of the morning-after conversation she has with her friends. She talks about how it suddenly hit her just how alone she was..and how sad she felt that she didn't have someone. While I understand that you don't "have" to have someone, at some point every human needs and deserves that companion. I've reached that point. So have several people my age I know. Is there something about turning 30 that makes you think like this? Suddenly I'm looking at apartments to evaluate whether a couple would like it, looking at clothes I wouldn't mind sharing, investigating dates before going on them, adding the dreaded "financial" bit to the normal qualities I look for....

Am I getting old?

I'm getting harsh with people I feel aren't contributing - friends, co-workers, family, dates. If I'm not getting what I want from you, I'm just cutting you out. Why do I do that? Is it some sub-concious need to protect myself now that I have more to lose? I've yelled at someone who just called to say hi yesterday for calling me after a long while being incommunicado and not following through on promises to have dinner/drinks/catch up. Yeah, like I don't know what that means!
"Let's do drinks sometime" = "I'm being polite but I'm not really interested in knowing you"
G-d! I'm turning into such a cynic! (From Carrie to Miranda?) No contact in a month and people are off my phone list, no contact in 2 and they're off my IM list, any more and outta my life...

In other news, I think I cut off my balls and pickled them when I spent 30 minutes helping a friend pick out lingerie at La Senza. I guess the only way I can get them back is by drinking a pitcher of beer and vomitting down the front of some girls tee while I'm freaking with her. Sigh.

Or I can wear my colours and support SERBIA for World Cup Champs 2006! Woohoo! They play Argentina tonight. I'll be the only one at Seijo on their side I bet...

Current Music:
Complainte de la butte - Rufus Wainwright

I absolutely love how 1950's French cafe this sounds. And I love Rufus' lifestyle! And waht a voice eh? (Why do I giggle when I see the name of this song?)

Geeking out is so much fun!

2006-05-22T00:39:00.000-07:00

This Sunday was Mahaquizzer 2006 in 8 cities around India..Bombay being one of them. Since I won this the last year, I figured it's worth "defending my title" this year even if it means waking up at 8.30 am on a Sunday morning to head to town. Oh who am I kidding! I'm wicked geeky when it comes to quizzing. I watched almost every episode of Jeopardy (and taped the ones I missed to watch later), I took part in the Weakest Link, I won quiz after quiz all through school and college...I even won the Bournvita quiz contest on radio WAY back when (Damn! I'm old! I was actually on radio! AM at that!!).

Anyhoo, after a night partying at the GB party ; where for a change they played about an hour of house music (leading to the queens stalking out claiming they will never hang out at a place that replaces "Kua maan doob jaoongi" with Paul van Dyke); I stumbled into bed around 2 am and found I couldn't sleep...so in goes my favourite "Before Sunset" into the DVD player and out come the Pringles, custard and hankie...my usual requirements when I watch this movie on my bi-monthly viewings. I finally dropped of to sleep about 5 am only to be rudely awakened at 8 am by my sidey alarm ringtone (I have "Carnival" for all you Nokia phone people). Spent about 10 minutes trying to decide between my lucky Superman shirt or M.'s Taz shirt. Finally decided on my PETA shirt (which I got free...I'm such a whore for free stuff) and jumped into a cab to Sophia's. I got there a bit early and looked around at assorted "competition" - all of who fit very nicely into the "I went to IIT and am a Tam Brahm" box (Check here please). I sat my non-IIT, non-TamBrahm ass way back and surprise surprise. A good omen! The desk I sat at belonged to a Mithun fan....the surface was scarred with "I love you Mithunda" and "I love Mimoh". Fantastic, I thought, this person understands why "Disco Dancer" and "Gun Master G9" were the defining moment of our lives in the mid 80's! With MithunDa's blessings, I opened up the quiz..150 questions to be answered in 90 minutes. So I'll be lying if I claimed I knew them all. I'll be lying if I claimed I even knew the answers to half. So technically, I only answered 75 questions...the other questions all got my standard fake answer - Stanley Kubrick.

What's the difference in lifespan of a Komodo dragon on the island of Flores as opposed to one on the island of Ternate?*
-Stanley Kubrick.

Where would you find Ching shi-weh and Bee-boppidy-boom?*
-Stanley Kubrick.

What, in the Bible, is equivalent to 3 lengths of rough undyed wool as woven by a daughter of Israel?*
-Stanley Kubrick.

See? He fits every question! "Do you like me Vikster?"..."err...Stanley Kubrick?"
(* - Actual questions may vary. All memories of actual questions have been obliterated by liberal doses of Heineken)

Anyhoo, I won. 54 points out of a possible 150. And my prize? A grand in voucers to Crosswords...which of course means that after a meal of Reshmi Tikka biryani at Noorani's (Honestly, at this rate, I'm going to have to give up ever fitting into my jeans again!), I headed off to Kemps Corner toute-suite.

People of Bombay. Lend me your ears. I bring you information.

There are HOT MEN who read! They hang out at Crosswords at Kemps Corner on Sunday afternoons! I almost sobbed for joy when I saw 3 of them clustered about the history section! Does this mean Bombay has the capacity to surprise cynical ol' me after all these years? I was forced to hang out in the Business and Marketing section for 15 minutes while a guy with the most divine grey eyes checked out the display (Meanwhile, I checked out his display...hot!) Snooped into his book bag at the checkout counter. Spotted "An analysis of the Zulu wars" (very do-able, pity about the wife), "Bathrooms and Kitchens" (decorating? gay? rich?), "The Da Vinci Code" (err..moving on..)...
All I know is, I thnk I know where I'm going to be hanging out Sunday afternoons now.

Current music:
Hit me baby ( one more time) - Mrs. Federline

My loneliness is killing me, and I...
I must confess I still believe (still believe)..

How awesome is this song! (OK, I know about 50% of you have now lost all respect for me!)

102 movies you SHOULD have watched

2006-05-17T23:36:00.000-07:00

Thank you Hob Gadling (It's such an effort not to use your name!) for the tag. You clearly know how much I love movies..

Background: Jim Emerson came out with a list of 102 movies which you should watch if you want to have a meaningful discussions of any kind about movies.

And since I love talking about movies (WHAT? No Almodovar? No Ozon? No Twyker?), I sat down with this list and tried to see (and use Hob's way of noting) how many of these movies I'd seen. the results surprised me. How about you? I tag Mitli Miss, Kate, Prasad and F-Cubed. Surprise me!

Legend:
* = I've seen it
+ = I've seen maybe a quarter or half of it (hangs head in shame...)

"2001: A Space Odyssey>" (1968) Stanley Kubrick (* I enjoyed it)
"The 400 Blows" (1959) Francois Truffaut
"8 1/2" (1963) Federico Fellini
"Aguirre, the Wrath of God" (1972) Werner Herzog
"Alien" (1979) Ridley Scott (* That scene with the stomach....)
"All About Eve" (1950) Joseph L. Mankiewicz (* DUH! I'm a gay man!)
"Annie Hall" (1977) Woody Allen (* Love the scene with the frum Woody at dinner)
"Apocalypse Now" (1979) Francis Ford Coppola (+ Was sad..)
"Bambi" (1942) Disney (* I cried so much )
"The Battleship Potemkin" (1925) Sergei Eisenstein (* Still remember the scene with the baby carriage)
"The Best Years of Our Lives" (1946) William Wyler
"The Big Red One" (1980) Samuel Fuller
"The Bicycle Thief" (1949) Vittorio De Sica
"The Big Sleep" (1946) Howard Hawks
"Blade Runner" (1982) Ridley Scott (+ I couldn't sit through this one)
"Blowup" (1966) Michelangelo Antonioni
"Blue Velvet" (1986) David Lynch (* Oh! hoorah for Kyle Maclachlan)
"Bonnie and Clyde" (1967) Arthur Penn (* Yep. That's dem)
"Breathless" (1959) Jean-Luc Godard
"Bringing Up Baby" (1938) Howard Hawks (* Saw this at Harvard Square)
"Carrie" (1975) Brian DePalma
"Casablanca" (1942) Michael Curtiz (* Oh do shut up Sam!)
"Un Chien Andalou" (1928) Luis Bunuel & Salvador Dali
""Les Enfants du Paradis" (1945) Marcel Carne
"Chinatown" (1974) Roman Polanski
"Citizen Kane" (1941) Orson Welles (* She's a fuckin' sled?)
"A Clockwork Orange" (1971) Stanley Kubrick (+ Why can't I sit through this?)
"The Crying Game" (1992) Neil Jordan (* This is why I always check my women)
"The Day the Earth Stood Still" (1951) Robert Wise
"Days of Heaven" (1978) Terence Malick
"Dirty Harry" (1971) Don Siegel (* My dad made me watch this!)
"The Discreet Charm of the Bourgeoisie" (1972) Luis Bunuel (* Netflix recommended this to me)
"Do the Right Thing" (1989) Spike Lee (* I LOVED this movie)
"La Dolce Vita" (1960) Federico Fellini (+ I prefered the French and Saunders version)
"Double Indemnity" (1944) Billy Wilder
"Dr. Strangelove" (1964) Stanley Kubrick (* Peter Sellers roxx)
"Duck Soup" (1933) Leo McCarey
"E.T. -- The Extra-Terrestrial" (1982) Steven Spielberg (* EVERYONE who grew up in the 80's watched this)
"Easy Rider" (1969) Dennis Hopper
"The Empire Strikes Back" (1980) Irvin Kershner (* The ONLY one in the six-logy I could watch)
"The Exorcist" (1973) William Friedkin (* mmm..pea soup!)
"Fargo" (1995) Joel & Ethan Coen (* It's coollld..Oh yaa, dontcha know it!)
"Fight Club" (1999) David Fincher (* Look! It's Brad Pitt!)
"Frankenstein" (1931) James Whale (* The origanal rules!)
"The General" (1927) Buster Keaton & Clyde Bruckman
"The Godfather," "The Godfather, Part II<" (1972, 1974) Francis Ford Coppola (* Who hasn't!)
"Gone With the Wind" (1939) Victor Fleming (* I watched it with my mammy)
"GoodFellas" (1990) Martin Scorsese (+ Watched this at Bryn Mawr)
"The Graduate" (1967) Mike Nichols (* I heart Anne Bancroft)
"Halloween" (1978) John Carpenter (* And we had to suffer the 6 sequels)
"A Hard Day's Night" (1964) Richard Lester (* Beatlemania!)
"Intolerance" (1916) D.W. Griffith
"It's a Gift" (1934) Norman Z. McLeod
"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946) Frank Capra (* Mandatory Christmas viewing!)
"Jaws" (1975) Steven Spielberg (* Just saw it last night again!)
"The Lady Eve" (1941) Preston Sturges
"Lawrence of Arabia" (1962) David Lean (* A white man who loves 'em brown? Hells yeah)
"M" (1931) Fritz Lang (+ Ironic I couldn't sit through M...)
"Mad Max 2" / "The Road Warrior" (1981) George Miller
"The Maltese Falcon" (1941) John Huston (* The hats! I tell ya!)
"The Manchurian Candidate" (1962) John Frankenheimer
"Metropolis" (1926) Fritz Lang (* Of course! A masterpiece spectacle!)
"Modern Times" (1936) Charles Chaplin
"Monty Python and the Holy Grail" (1975) Terry Jones & Terry Gilliam (* Ni! Ni! Ni!)
"Nashville" (1975) Robert Altman
"The Night of the Hunter" (1955) Charles Laughton
"Night of the Living Dead" (1968) George Romero (* mmmmm...brains!)
"North by Northwest" (1959) Alfred Hitchcock (* I love the corn field scene)
"Nosferatu" (1922) F.W. Murnau (* I miss the Brookline theatre!)
"On the Waterfront" (1954) Elia Kazan (* Marlon Brando WAS such a hottie)
"Once Upon a Time in the West" (1968) Sergio Leone
"Out of the Past" (1947) Jacques Tournier
"Persona" (1966) Ingmar Bergman
"Pink Flamingos" (1972) John Waters (* John Waters..How I love thee)
"Psycho" (1960) Alfred Hitchcock (* Well duh!)
"Pulp Fiction" (1994) Quentin Tarantino (* I love the Uma/John dance)
"Rashomon" (1950) Akira Kurosawa (* This movie got me interested in Samurai culture)
"Rear Window" (1954) Alfred Hitchcock (* Such a classic)
"Rebel Without a Cause" (1955) Nicholas Ray
"Red River" (1948) Howard Hawks
"Repulsion" (1965) Roman Polanski
"The Rules of the Game" (1939) Jean Renoir
"Scarface" (1932) Howard Hawks
"The Scarlet Empress" (1934) Josef von Sternberg
"Schindler's List" (1993) Steven Spielberg (* I saw it again..and it hit me just the same)
"The Searchers" (1956) John Ford
"The Seven Samurai" (1954) Akira Kurosawa (* Samurai culture is weird)
"Singin' in the Rain" (1952) Stanley Donen & Gene Kelly (* The dancin'!)
"Some Like It Hot" (1959) Billy Wilder (* Men in drag? Why yes!)
"A Star Is Born" (1954) George Cukor (* Cukor's made all my fav movies)
"A Streetcar Named Desire" (1951) Elia Kazan (* STELLA!)
"Sunset Boulevard" (1950) Billy Wilder
"Taxi Driver" (1976) Martin Scorsese
"The Third Man" (1949) Carol Reed (* Cold war thrillers are awesome)
"Tokyo Story" (1953) Yasujiro Ozu
"Touch of Evil" (1958) Orson Welles
"The Treasure of the Sierra Madre" (1948) John Huston
"Trouble in Paradise" (1932) Ernst Lubitsch
"Vertigo" (1958) Alfred Hitchcock (* When ya have it, ya watch it)
"West Side Story" (1961) Jerome Robbins/Robert Wise (* I think I remember all the songs)
"The Wild Bunch" (1969) Sam Peckinpah
"The Wizard of Oz" (1939) Victor Fleming (* I'd have to return my pink card if I hadn't)

So this means I've seen 52 out of the 102 completely and 6 of them incomplete. Methinks I just found something to do for the next month! What's y'alls scores?

Wish you were me?

2006-05-17T05:34:00.000-07:00

Nowhere special to go, no one special to hang out with, read all the books I have, heard every single CD I own, watched every movie out there and then some, climbed every mountain / forded every stream, drank enough coffee to make my bladder beg for mercy, singlehandedly finished off the entire rum production of the nation of Cuba, walked through Bandra till my shoes wore out, played a half-dozen computer games, sat through some excruciatingly boring TV, spent "quality time" with my parents, learnt the words to "Kaddish" (Hebrew), "Boro Boro" (Persian) and "Abdel Kader" (Arabic), realized I only have 8 people I would want to invite to my sister's wedding, wrote another chapter of my book, spent 4 Grand that I should not have on fantastic shoes, ate at Basilico alone 3 times, walked through Banganga, got sick from too many Punjab Sweet House samosas, deleted some email and a lot of phone numbers, refused a woman, lost a kilo, bought "The Faraway Tree" by Enid Blyton and drowned in nostalgia, sorted out my photos from Virginia, began writing 2 letters - never finished, read some Cafavy, investigated MBA programs and immigration options, divided my friends into 4 groups - straight men (30%), straight women (55%), gay men (10%), gay women (5%), pondered my views on reservation, abortion and illegal immigration over many cups of chai, downloaded my first ringtone ever - The winner takes it all (Abba), ate some beef, smoked a joint, cried over Sigur Ros songs, laughed at Russel Peters, discussed AbFab and Little Britian with a friend's ex, called the barman at Seijo "Myfanwy" as I ordered a Bacardi and Coke, went sherwani shopping, yelled at guy throwing trash out of his car on my street, created a manifesto for myself if I ever chose politics as a career, tried to learn Photoshop and Dreamweaver, started a Bombay community on Orkut, went running on Bandstand at midnight, stood in line at the new KFC, set up an appointment with the dentist, window shopped at the mall, ate a footlong Subway sandwich and still felt hungry, lost my house keys, did a Tickle quiz, shaved my head to spite my face.

This has been a week in the life of the Vikster.

The city

2006-05-11T05:13:00.000-07:00

You said: "I'll go to another country, go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart -like something dead- lies buried.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I've spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally."

You won't find a new country, won't find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You'll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighbourhoods, turn grey in these same houses.
You'll always end up in this city. Don't hope for things elsewhere:
there's no ship for you, there's no road.
Now that you've wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you've destroyed it everywhere in the world.

Constantine P. Cavafy

I'm a retailer's dream!

2006-05-05T01:55:00.000-07:00

It's that time of the month. Well, not "that" time of the month..thankfully! I'd probably faint every few weeks if that ever happened, what with my phobia for the red stuff and all. Sometimes when I look at the PMSing women I know, I'm reminded of the old Jewish prayer "Blessed are you Hashem, who has not made me a woman" (OK, so PLEASE don't engage me in a discussion of how this is a good thing cause men are thankful they are men so they have MORE mitzvot to perform....).

What time do I mean? Oh, shopping time! The beginning of the month, when I get that happy SMS from my bank saying my salary is in and awaits my grubby touch. This month, thanks to a couple of judicious stock sales (Yes, the Vikster is getting more concious of his finances now that he's what...only 29 years away from retirement), I find myself with far more money in hand (or in giant box with lots of buttons) as compared to genteel poverty-stricken months passed. How much money, I hear the masses ask. Ah, a gentleman doesn't tell you that...however much he may "kiss and tell".

*short break as I try to digest the fact I just called myself a gentleman..I mean the only thing "upper-crust" about me are the boogers in my eyes the first thing in the morning*

Anyway, along with my new Meenu (for shopping purposes only, so you can breathe again Meenu!) Ami, I went along on a shopping expedition through Bandra in the middle of the workday. Of course, I failed to realize it's now the middle of the blazin' summer in Bombay..so to the despair of Konkani ammas everywhere, I have to inform y'all that I am now 2 shades darker. Certain people I know (I'm looking at you Canadia-mundas) will fail to see the point, but the vast majority of you Fair and Handsome wallahs - I hear you clucking in sympathy already. I think I might have to give the ol' sunscreen a go...much as I hate the coconutty smell..I smell like a Lola Kutty (Or should that be a Baby Jose Verghese) when I slather it on.

Trudged all over Linking Road looking for "the" perfect pair of jeans..I thought I'd found it at Kink at Waterfield Road, but I (along with Ami) was distracted by an incredibly hot guy with an incredibly hot girlfriend trying out jeans. How hot, I hear Vij ask. Well, lets just say, so hot, that I couldn't even concive of doing the nasty with him. Instead, I'd pay to watch him doing the nasty with someone else..I could just see myself clutching my caramel popcorn and cheesy nachos watching him go at it like a rickshaw-wallah on E. Of course, now I couldn't try on the jeans I'd picked out cause ..err.. they turned out to be a bit tight in the fly region. *Old jungle saying - Hot model make Phantom jeans swell something awesome* Instead I had to pretend to be interested in some el crappo belts while the rest of me had time to err..relax.

No luck at Kink, we headed off to Sign O'the Times..the Irish sounding boutique staffed entirely by Bhaiiya minions of Gujju owners. Where I found "THE" pair. Of jeans that is. And of course, me heading out to shop for "just the one" thing means I end up lugging home crap that I defineitly don't need. Like a pair of linen pants..that are TRANSPARENT! What was I thinking? All Ami had to say was "Your ass looks rocking in that" (Well, I think the actual words were "Ass rocking chhe" in the faux-Gujju that Ami and me speak) and I had my 1200 Rs. out to buy them. Damn. This time I'm determined to put these pants to good use. I'm wearing them to the Gay Bombay party tonight. And if I don't get a hottie to talk to me (or my ass..I'm not picky) with my transparent pants, I will officially take myself off the market. (With these pants) As G-d is my witness, I shall never go hungry again. Funny how Scarlett O'Hara declaiming is appropriate for every one of Vikster's crises.

Did I mention the wicked expensive shoes I was "forced to" buy the day before? Well, I was all set to escape with these cheapo shoes when, *cue angelic music*, the sales guy showed me this awesome pair of calf-leather two-toned (or three-toned..I wasn't sure. Not wearing my glasses does have it's disavantages) shoes. According to him, they "matched my personality". And you know what? They do! Like my new shoes, I'm soft, come in a variety of shades and am VERY VERY expensive. I wore them proudly to Sanj and Shweta's engagement..where I pointed them out to everyone to admire. Yes, it's tacky to do that. But they're so awesome, I want to buy a pair of pants that flash red arrows to draw attention to them. (It's just a matter of re-embroidering the ones I have that direct attention to my ..err.. man-place)

I spent a lot of money. And whoever said money can't buy happiness was lying! I spent last night hanging out watching "The Amazing Race" in my new linen pants wearing my new shoes thinking "Right now? Fuck yeah, I'd do me!" And then I did...

Current music:
To celebrate the engagement of my 2 awesome friends - Shweta and Sanju, I'm listening to "Saat Samundar paar (main tere peeche peeche aa gayi) A song that provided ample scope for interpretive dance at the function. Congrats again you guys!

I'm having an acute Googlism!

2006-04-24T04:06:00.000-07:00

I always Google people up before meeting them. I'm clearly not alone..one recent Rolling Stones mag estimated 40% of people Google up possible dates/love interests. (And for those Googling me right now..NO! I am not a nanotechnology professor from Stanford) Which is why I was quite happy to get the link to www.googlism.com from a friend today.

Googlism finds the sentences where your name appears accross the Web. Within the Google results are thousands of thoughts and opinions about thousands of different topics, people, names, things and places, it simply searches Google and let you know what website owners think about the name or topic you suggested.

So seeing as I have no life and am easily entertained... (Well, the Family Feud Funny Answers kept me laughing my ass off for about an hour this morning), I decided to put in my name and see what sentences sing my praises on the WWW. Here they are (with my comments):

vikram is doing good and he is really fantastic actor (Why! Thank you!)
vikram is still not a star leaving ample scope for experimentations (Hot men are an experiment?)
vikram is put into situations where he has no authority but takes it as his responsibility to wipe out the anti-socials (With Kleenex and Harpic!)
vikram is a poor blind guy who lives his life by singing in streets and he hardly makes any money to keep his family running (Well, the marathon is still 7 months away)
vikram is a local rowdy who is a big guy in that area (Err...* inches?)
vikram is 20 years old (Well, I have parts that are that young..)
vikram is the guy in charge here (*cracks whip and slips into S/M outfit*)
vikram is a director's actor (I respond to direction...*wink*)
vikram is responsible for ensuring smooth functioning of all backs (Sigh. No comments)
vikram is a rare find (Thank you Amma!)
vikram is a great success in the business world (Well, whoring is starting to pay off)
vikram is getting offers by the dozen each day (See above)
vikram is being shot in a village setting (Great! This means no doctors?)
vikram is thrilled with the way the film shaped up (Umm. Yeah. "That" film.)
vikram is not clearly told (And this is why it hurt you so much)
vikram is sneha (I am? This must explain the hips)
vikram is currently an assistant professor in the department of general surgery (This is why I blog so rarely)
vikram is a leading hotel of delhi (This must explain why there's a queue to get in..)
vikram is adamant to go ahead with his plan by now (Or he's gonna throw himself a tantrum)
vikram is currently serving as the secretary of the student's council of the indian institute of science (Does this mean I wear a short skirt and sleep with my boss?)
vikram is courageous enough to face any kind of challenge (MUMMMMMMYYYY!!!)
vikram is reunited with his wife (Now that "she's" grown a dick and chest hair)
vikram is drawn towards his cousin played by sneha (Eww. How about his male cousin instead? Sorry A. I know you read this blog....)
vikram is extremely attached to his mother (And you wonder why I'm gay!)
vikram is currently in between jobs and willing to relocate (To Ibiza...)
vikram is the saving grace (That's right bitches. Now bow down!)
vikram is only toying with bijuriya (Unless that means "dick" in Bhojpuri, I'm not sure!)
vikram is an even greater hero and indra himself comes down from the heavens to praise him (Ah. How I love Desi hyperbole!)
vikram is afraid of him and thinks of him as a "devil" (I'm talking about you here N.!)
vikram is murdered in his turn and phoolan is brutally gang raped (Err. OK. MAAAADARCHHOD!!)
vikram is a very physique youth (Liar. I'm so not a youth!)
vikram is equally good (As? Tiramisu after fantastic sex?)
vikram is forced to get lodgings in the city's worst neighborhood (Nahin! Bandra, you're being libeled!)
vikram is the author of "value added mergers" (LOL! Dirty image comes to mind)
vikram is the able administrator (Unless it comes to his own wallet)
vikram is energised by his newest hotel project (Yeah! It's called "Rooms by the hour")
vikram is active in the science professionals as a resource knowledge program (Man. Am I great or wot?)
vikram is acquitted with charges of forgery (Hoorah! No more Oz-style poundings!)
vikram is tortured in the police station (They withheld my AbFab DVDs and made me watch Balaji soaps)
vikram is practicing yoga (I can get my legs waaaaaay up....)
vikram is now getting into directing project (After buying "directing project" dinner of course!)
vikram is his best friend (I love myself. Upto 3 times daily)
vikram is best known for his action thrillers so industry is watching carefully (Watching me in action? Ooh. Kinky industry!)
vikram is a close second (That's right boys...a close second.. ;-)
vikram is eventually killed (How? I wanna know how O great Oracle of doom!)
vikram is very centrally located (And yet, hasn't shown up on many maps..)
vikram is the hottest property in tamil industry after rajini and kamal (Mind it!)
vikram is also known for solving contemporary industrial problems (This is why my dates fall asleep)
vikram is now a household name in cudiea pradesh (I should move there...)
vikram is the fifth generation of a rich business family in england (Who was cut off without a penny for being too hot to belong)
vikram is the ceo of melonfire (Hehehe..melonfire)
vikram is an actor's director (I used to be a director's actor once)
vikram is all geared up for action (OMG! That is SO true! Pity I'm wearing my date undies!)

Now all y'all know everything about me. I removed the bit about me being a gold medallist from the Indian Insstitue of Technology. G-d knows I don't need that bit of info screwing up my sex life...

Current Music:
Nothing's gonna stop us now : Starship

One of the only songs I can sing in both voices at karaoke (The other being Love Shanck..Don't even ask!). Of course, the voices all come naturally once I'm sozzled enough.....

Dilemnas..moral and otherwise

2006-04-21T05:26:00.000-07:00

"Eddie, Eddie, Eddie...I have a moral dilemna"
"What ARE you talking about Pats? You have no morals!"

Ah, if life were just that easy! Sadly, I have both morals (very few, I assure you!) and dilemnas to deal with. I love the cards that elephant-headed fat man in the sky deals me. Just when I'm all set to coast through life on my jet ski (I've always pictured myself "coasting through life" on a jet ski..I don't know why), I get walloped by a giant wave of "What do I do with this?". And then I have to head off to my usual think-about-stuff places (The Dome Bar, Marine Drive and the coffee shop at Crosswords) to analyze and over-analyze shit to death till I come outta there with the absolutely wrong way to deal with what ails me!

I'm going to start sounding like Carrie Bradshaw with my inane questions pretty soon. Other than the fact that I type this out on a PC wearing a Tshirt and jeans while she's on an IBook in a slip and panties, I think we're much the same person. Vaguely remember taking one of those "Which Sex and the City character are you?" quizzes...and I came off as a cross between Carrie and Miranda. Thank G-d it wasn't my "Why can't I be a father too" day or my "Stick that nine-incher down my throat" day or the outcome of that quiz might have been a lot different.

Anyway, here are my present dilemnas. All very shallow and very Carrie-esque.

1. When you know your friend is hanging out with a sicko, do you tell him the gory details or keep quiet?

2. Is it OK to hope a couple you know break up so you can mack on one of them?

3. Just how many crushes is one allowed to have? And why can't they live in India dammit!

4. Is it possible to really want someone you have never met?

5. When do you realize you've met The One?

6. How much compromise is OK when you meet someone interesting? Does everyone have to be a 10/10?

7. Am I a bad Indian boy if all I want to do is travel around the world not working?

8. What can I do to get a bleedin' guy to dance with me at the GB party!

9. Is my lack of persistence in following up a "We should have coffee sometime" causing me to miss out on interesting guys?

10. Do I ..gulp.. move my age limit for guys-I'll-date 5 years down to account for all the 21 years olds infesting the Bombay gay scene?

And finally...

11. As a gay man, just how many times am I allowed to kiss a woman before coming out to her?

A dozen beers down and I've only "solved" 3 of my dilemnas. And acted on just one. And yes, true to form, the Vikster picked the wrong answer and now a friend thinks I'm trying to sabotage his life cause I want him that bad. (No, I'm not. Yes, I do) ¿Problemas extraños eh?

In other news, Paul van Dyke's in Bombay just as I shake out the last few paise in my wallet to buy a samosa. This is why I should have stayed awake when my dad talked about "budgeting" and "planning" and "common sense" instead of hearing what I wanted "spending", "spontaniety" and "immaturity". Now I have 4/1500th of the cost of the ticket in my wallet rightnow..and I need it to buy the Midday. Or a lottery ticket. Whatever. I need a drink.

Current Music:
Amar Sonar Bangla - Bangladeshi National Anthem

I like the lyrics to this anthem. Very Very beautful (Or is that Bherry Bherry Bheautiphool?). Found it on a Bangladeshi Remix site. Who know! B'desh has pop music. And much of it sounding a lot better than Indian "Himesh Reshamiyaa" crap.

The perfect Mr. lovah-lovah

2006-04-19T04:18:00.000-07:00

Tag...I'm it.

Baldrick (Or is it still Kate/Bob) has very kindly tagged me (Thank you! I was running out of things to write) and wants me to list my Qualities of the Perfect Lover. I also see that Roswitha didn't tag me personally prefering to lump me under the title "Whoever reads my blog". Well, that's all right. I've been called far worse in the recent past. I was just described to a stranger by an aquaintance as "He's one of those.......bloggers". In my best Meena Kumari ishstyle: "main toh mar hi gaya". The venom, the envy, the condescension...I LOVED it!

Anyway, onto the task at hand (aaahhhhh! OK not that task) : Qualities of a perfect lover (A man..since I was asked to list sex of person I was thinking of love-karofying)

1. "My baby, he don't talk sweet
He ain't got much to say
But he loves me, loves me, loves me
I know that he loves me anyway"

I want a guy who knows when he needs to just shut up and listen to me. I talk like ALL the time. So it helps that I find someone who is a lot quieter...but of course, listening to me with rapt attention. I also don't need the "I Love You, Honey, Baby, Baccha, Pappu" type of endearments all the time. A once-when-I-least-expect-it "I love you" is simply the best.

2. "And maybe he don't dress fine
But I don't really mind
'cuz every time he pulls me near
I just wanna cheer:
Let's hear it for the boy"

Expensive clothes have never mattered to me. I do like it if he dresses comfortably and appropriately to whatever occasion we're at. A guy who wears a freshly laundered white shirt (NOT one of those cheapo 4-anna ki gentry type muscle Tshirts all the Tom, Dicks and Hariprasads wear at Coffee Day) and tight (Since he's got to have a great arse, the tighter the jeans - the better) blue jeans...Yum.

3. "My baby may not be rich
He's watching every dime
But he loves me loves me loves me,
We always have a real good time."

I don't necessarily want a rich man. Just someone financially independent enough to buy me the occasional book or take me to a movie (I'll pay for the snacks!). Then again, the older I'm getting - the more mercenary I am getting...This bit might change when I hit 30 and want a lover with a house of his own in super-expensive Bombay, or someone who wants to take me to Greece on holiday instead of buying me a second-class ticket to Borivili.
He will/must "love me love me love me" and must be extroverted enough to have a great time whereever he is.. on vacation or at work.

4. "And maybe he sings off key,
But that's all right by me, yeah
But what he does he does so well
Makes me wanna yell"

I love a guy who doesn't care what the world thinks - someone who will get up in front of a crowded bar and belt out a love song to me (I, of course, will be cringing into my martini) ... or someone who'd be just as comfy grabbing me and planting a (very very very good) kiss on my lips.
And of course, he's GOT TO be good in the sack. A perfect lover would take care of business so well that he'd encourage me to get off my lazy arse and match him in stamina, ability or whatever. And yeah, he'd make me wanna yell allright!

In conclusion, ladies and jellyspoons,

Let's hear it for the boy
Oh, let's give the boy a hand
Let's hear it for my baby
You know you gotta understand
Oh, maybe he's no Romeo
But he's my love and one man show
Whoawhoawhoawhoa
Let's hear it for the boy!

Current music:
Total Eclipse of the heart - Bonnie Tyler

I think I'm in this 80's mood today. Does this mean a trip to Hawaiian Shack is in the offing tonight? I think it's Indian Idol finals today..which means I HAVE TO escape my house and the gawdawful drama that they have on that piece of shit show.

Peeves!

2006-04-09T08:43:00.000-07:00

So this isn't about the Poltergeist in the Harry Potter books (Side note: My least favourite character as well..probably cause in India he'd be a fat Sindhi kid called Bunty).

This is about all the festering, smouldering (and you thought it was the "sexy look"!) and bubbling angry-ish feeling I get when the following happen. My pet peeves as it were. Except they're rare enough that I don't necessarily have to confront them everyday..but often enough that sometimes I just want to hold my head and scream out "WHY! In the name of all that's holy..WHY!"

1. People who type "Chao" instead of "Ciao": People people people! One's a Chinese great-grandmother with bound feet and the other is one of those multi-purpose words that abound in the Romance languages (in this case in Italian). Use them correctly!

2. People who wear wool knit caps: Unless Anu Malik is your Indian Idol, I don't see why someone living in 35C temperatures NEEDS to wear a wool knit cap in the middle of the afternoon. Or at a club. Or at the gym (WTF?) Which "char anne ki gentry" type guy started this whole fad anyway?

3. Club stamps that won't wear off: I'm walking around a poster child for Bombay's clubs. Left wrist? Hawaiian Shack and Polyesthers. Right wrist? Razz Rhino and Purple Haze. My mom thinks I have bad bruises on my wrist and worries I have an abusive boyfriend. HAH! Can we please ask Bombay's club mafia (you know they exist) to come up with some better quality ink for their stamps? Something that will wash off as opposed to me having to wait till 3 epidermal layers are lost before I can go out again?

4. Friends who date my exs: AARGH. I hate you. And you know who you are.

5. Extra spicy panipuri water: If I wanted to recreate the Heimlich maneuver discovery in the midst of Pali Naka, I think I know where to go. Stupid Punjab Sweet House decides ever-so-often that I need some fire in my belly. So instead of my theeka kam, I get the full corrosive acid treatment for my innner throat. Of course, this means that the kitty party aunties waiting outside 5-Spice get to see me gasp, cough and turn a bright shade of blue .. all the while fanning themselves with their LV purses. Bitches.

6. Rickshaw wallas with bad music: Hey Bhagwaan. That is like the absolute worse. A rick ride from Lokhandwalla to Bandra with Himesh Reshamiyya's brand of copy cat Arabic music is more than I can bear.

7. Bombay weather in April/May: I am melting. Not in a good way. And when you're squeezed into a club with 500 other sweaty, shirtless men and the AC off (like I was this weekend at the GB Party), it's simply a recipe for disaster. Let's just say that all those believers in gay pheromones, I have only one word for you. DEODORANT!

8. Flying cockroaches: I had one settle on my face a few nights ago while I was asleep. Woke up feeling weirdly ticklish and knew it was no dream (Well, the 3 guys working on me in my dream sure as hell weren't tickling me..). I think the resulting scream woke up most of the street. And then I had to try to squish it (yes, I know..bad karma) with my Osho chappals..the only thing that had the required surface area (I think I tried to squish it with a DVD as well..hey! It was 3 am!). Next shopping buy? New chappals.

9. "Art collectors": Everyone of the prints and paintings I've wanted to buy in the last 3 months seems to have slipped my grasp cause some Gujju philistine with more money than interest has snapped it all up. Grr. I'm reduced to hanging Kaalnirnay calendars on my walls to hide the gaping spaces....

10. The entire jeans-making industry: Why can't someone with long legs, broad hips and a butt that's "getting there" find a nice pair of jeans? I've been searching for that elusive pair for 2 months now... I think the good folks down at globus now dread my twice-weekly visits. "Sir, why don't you try a wider waist jeans? Then you can get length as well". Quelle horreur! They want me to buy size 32?? That's it, time to renew the 100 crunches before breakfast routine again. Oh wait, just who am I kidding....Pass me those 32's..

Current Music:
Futarino Osaka - Miyako Harumi and Miyazaki Masa

This is in the "enka" style of Japanese music. From the post-WW2 period till the late 60's. Reminds me very much of the old Geeta Dutt style songs. Here's a good link to download some enka. http://home.megapass.net/~park4156/Enka.html

Vik and Meenu!

2006-04-03T01:38:00.000-07:00

Best Friends Forever!

I miss you Meenu..I hope Boston is just as fun as we left it....Oh wait! Do me a favour. Go to the VW dealership at Auburn and chuck a stone through the dealer's pane there...the bastard wouldn't service my Passat in 2000.

Also, I hope you come back and visit me .. seeing as Ammrikka grows distanter and distanter (and my Angrezi grows worser and worser) as time goes by. Perhaps I could move to Montreal and we could have our weekend debauches at Rue St. Catherine...the go-go boys there are divine!

Bandra isn't the same without you... I think I spotted the Natural Icecream gy shedding tears into his tender coconut waffle cone as he contemplated St. Dominic's without Meenu... Somehow losing my hag has made Cafe Coffee Gay that much less fun. Seriously, how can we play "Spot the Gay" and "Fag or Fashionable" and "I'd do him" anymore? I suppose we could compromise..I'd head to your haunt at Barista at Reclamation and you could head to my haunt at Diesel at Davis Sq. and play our games via sms... Isn't it weird that you can see M. whenever you want..and I get to see your A.? I just thought about that...

Come visit me soon..I miss you! And my fag hag auditions haven't gone as well as I'd hoped. Somehow you brought that special mix of *Karen Walker meets Punjabi auntieji* that I so need in my fag hags..

Till then, I leave you with our magic chant "I was soooo wetttt".

Love you lots,
Tumhara airport pickupwaala
Bikki

Where have I been?

2006-03-27T20:45:00.000-08:00

It's been a while since I last posted..I know I know! I've been rather lackadasical (word of the day) in my blogging lately...but that's just cause nothing really seems to be different in this routine that is my life. Wake up, work, Cafe Coffee Gay and a book and home again. Lather, rinse, repeat.
Just incredibly blah! It got to a point where I was seeing the same bhaajiwalla at the same spot on the street, the same dogwalker (Man, she's so so butch! "Butchy McBullDyke" is my nickname for her) with the same fucking dog pooping on the street, the same queue of burkha-clad women outside the herbal masseuse, the same damn people over and over and over again...It was like Groundhog day but without the attractive people. And yes, I actually called Bill Murray attractive (If you saw "Lost in Translation", you'd agree too)

How does one deal with lethargy? Especially when it's 35C and 90% humidity outside? Well, one goes to the beach! "Juhu beach?" I hear the multitude cry out! "He swims in that bacterial sludge and oil slick that villagers from the hinterland call the sea" the gossip is whispered from ear to ear. "He will tan horribly and then no one will marry him" Amma wails. "He's a fag, no one wants him anyway" Annu reasons. "He isn't wheatish anymore (neither is he gym-built, lovable or *has place*)" The gay bois taunt.

Ah well, screw you all! I took my ass off to Goa! Land of sea, sand, surf and selibacy. OK So that doesn't really work, but you get my drift. We had this company offsite thing in Goa for a couple of days and after the all-work bit, it was time for some all-play (Quick digression : I HATE the all-play option on Pictionary...because I always end up with the partner who doesn't cheat and look into the better artist's pad). I stayed behind after the work bit for 3 days of R&R (with the R not standing for Routine thankfully) on Baga beach. Waking up at brunch time about 11 am, spending 30 minutes trying to decide if I open my left eye first or my right eye, eating insanely huge meals for half the price, drinking Kings beer till I swear I had beer coming out of my ears, getting a ridiculous tan and no tan line..how ever did I manage it? ;-)

I even ended up going to the gay bar at Calangute all by myself. Actually, that was a big red-letter night for me. I've never been to a gay bar, gay party, gay anything alone. I'm absolutely petrified of having my very basic social skills (some say Neanderthalic almost) exposed to the sneering gaze of the obnoxiously good looking people who show up wherever I am just as I'm having a bad hair day (or worse, a bad jeans-fit day) Anyway, I walked in to find myself the only brown person in a lounge of about 75 people. "Drat!" I said to myself.."I've walked into the annual meeting for the Ku Klux Klan - Goa North chapter" And then I was like - Oh wait, this is just like every one of those bar nights at Club Cafe in Boston...when I represented the vast multitude of the unwashed, tired, hungry, huddled *brown* masses yearning to breathe free in a sea of perfectly coiffed, Abercrombie and Fitch wearing, giant pecs showing, blond hair gelled up *white bois*. I should be used to this...and with that thought in mind I strode in confidently. (*No he didn't. He slinked in hoping no one noticed him and said Hi before he'd downed atleast 2 martinis*).

And it was such a revelation..men saying Hi, men buying me drinks, men laughing at my feeble attempts at humour! Men wanting to get into my pants...WTF? Was this another planet I was on? Whatever happened to the "Ignore the Vikster" club? Was this just a Gay Bombay construct? Am I *shudder* actually interesting in Goa? And so I held court. Revenge for colonialism...now this skinny brown guy had assorted Englishmen buying *him* drinks. Thank you Gandhi and Nehru.

Note to all disparagers of the Vikster's karaoke skills: There were a few people there at the bar who remembered my moving rendition of Bohemian Rhapsody from New Year's eve at the same bar. Which I thought was wicked cool seeing as the dudes in question were wearing thongs and peacock feather masks that night.

10 (Yes. 10.) drinks later, I staggered out. At 5 am. I was drunk. Fuck the horny bit...I was so drunk I don't think I even realized I had a dick that could be used for non-peeeing purposes. "Never again" I said as I crawled into bed...2 Aspirins and a bottle of water clutched in my arms. The ceiling swam in front of my eyes. I closed my eyes and I got seasick. Kept sitting up and promising myself that this was the absolutely last time I was ever going to drink..and then laughing out loud at the ridiculous view of myself wrapped up in a bedsheet, waste paper basket in hand, talking to myself in the mirror....

And I spent the last 2 days of my holiday hungover. Sunglasses on face, hat hiding the glare and a quiet corner on the beach with no trance or sitars twanging in the background.

And since then, I've been good. No beer, no vodka and ... no martinis. The last one is causing me much heartburn. Or that could just be the gin from the night in Goa coming back to haunt me again...Blech! Oh and if I ever need to know why I shouldn't drink, I'm just going to check out this picture of me...drunk off my ass!

Current music:
Losing my religion - REM

I sang this for M. at "O Pescador" at Baga Beach one night 1 year or more ago. It's amazing how I remember it still..

My gaydar sucks!

2006-03-03T22:17:00.000-08:00

Another weekend, another set of bars to hang out at. All of them are in Bandra (except on the off chance I get a ride up to Phoenix to hang out at the Sports Bar there). The reason being my lack of enthu to get to Bandra station, stand in a queue for G-d knows how long, dodge the limbless man, oozing wounds man and disfigured leper at the ticket counter and then head to town in my dhinchak club wear. I simply can't be bothered anymore. How much easier to just walk down to the neighborhood bar (the one where they all know your name..Cheers? No, I think it's Totos!)

Anyway, was at Seijo with les fiances S. (S & S...like my favourite deli in Inman Square, these are my 2 favourite people to hang out with...now that Meenu is leaving me for Ammrikka!). I figured it's just a few beers with the str8 folk anyway so as usual I was totally not prepared to be flirty, interesting or fun. Yes, I am fake enough and cynical enough that I have to be in the mood to flirt nowdays. However, S. kept pointing out these hotties (where have they been the whole time?) who kept walking in and out of Seijo and asking me if I thought they were cute/hot/father-of-my-kids type. And that's when I realized I have abyssmal gaydar. Honestly, my str8 friends have better 'dar than I do. And that scares and appalls me..seeing as I probably passed on several glances, flirts and hints from the possible loves of my life (Why am I sounding like Jack from Will & Grace?). I mean honestly, the only way I know someone is gay is if he comes up to me and is downright blatant "Hello Baby, do you want to do body sex with me?"

Anyway, I tried yesterday with a little help from my friends to identify the gay men at the bar. 3 of them were too easy. One uber-closet case ("Don't talk to me at the bar.. people will think I'm gay".. HELLO! You couldn't get gayer if you were wearing a tutu!), one druggie and one "artiste". Then came the tough part. Identified 3 candidates to analyze (this was the point when the lack of dinner and the 3 beers started taking hold). And these are the points why I think these guys might be ...er... the only gay in the village.

1. L.L. Cool Gay : (Nickname assigned by Sanj.)

Came to bar with 4 women
Dressed better than any of them
Danced with hands held above head thus exposing taut midriff (and creating mini-boner in the Vikster's pants)
Drank a Bacardi Breeze while the women chugged their beers
WAY too much bling on his wrists
Nice shoes
Took pictures of himself with his cellphone (Come into my arms Vain Man!)

2. Model-Shodel Boy : (Punju-Shanju Guy-Wuy drinking-winking at Seijo-Weijo)

Pants were WAY too tight (Bonus points for the nice ass though!)
Tattoo of butterfly on beautifully sculpted upper arm (WTF?)
Sonu Nigam style bonded and highlighted hair (Gross! He looks like one of those mofussil-type Indian Idol wannabes with that hair!)
Drank Bacardi Breeze (again?)
Bopped around waving ciggie in air and was actually pouting! (Isn't that the exclusive prerogative of gay men? For reference: Check out Rahul Bose in the new watch commercial..)

3. Bank on me Man : (Vij, he looks just like what I think our friend - the dog lover looks like)

Fantastic clothes (then again, he probably just got out of work as an investment banker/stock broker/model for Amarsons)
Drinking a beer and standing at the bar just looking around
Nice watch, nice shoes
Pleated pants? Say what? (Who even wears these nowdays? Besides Bhaiyyas from UP?)
Began dancing only when the Madonna remix came on

So these were my three victims last night. Of course, being true to form, I just stood there drinking my Kingfisher observing. I considered smiling at them but then I remembered the geisha Mameha's advice to the maiko Nita Sayuri. The one where she teaches her to floor a man with only one glance and not a word. I'm aiming to try this method out for a month. Let's see how it goes!
Anyway, I tried my best to figure out just which of these 3 believed in the love that dare not speaks it's name. And I failed miserably. I had 15 minutes to analyze all 3 individually and these were the only points I figured out. And they all went back with a woman. (Then again, that need not necesarily mean anything...I alwyas leave clubs/bars with a woman. Heck, I even leave GB parties with a woman..or someone sufficiently post-op to count).

Lack of Radar destroyed Atlantic shipping in 1916. Lack of Gaydar destroys Vikster in 2006.

Current Music:
Russian Waltz - Shostakovich

My favourite waltz ever. It fits somehow that I'm listening to it .. seeing as I'm reading a book on Stalin and this waltz is by Stalin's favourite composer. I love how he uses Russian folk elements in this waltz. Two manicured thumbs up.

Addicted !

2006-02-23T01:08:00.000-08:00

I've been addicted to a lot of things in my "short life" so far (Any more age jokes and I'll be killing one of y'all sometime soon!).. Vietnamese coffee (Diesel Cafe, I miss you!), alu parathas (I fear I might still be addicted), boys (Well, now that I haven't had one in a while, I fear I'm cured!), Jane Austen (Hooray! Pride and Prejudice this Sunday at Fame Adlabs!), Roman history (am devouring Colleen McCullough currently) and finally TV.

There are more to add onto that addiction list but I fear that since TV came into my life in 1988 (Yep. We were the old fashioned "No TV, only books" family), I've been addicted. From Krishi Darshan and Chhayageet when we only had one state channel - Doordarshan to The Bold and the Beautiful and Crystal Maze when Star TV reared it's beautiful blond firang head to Indian Idol and The Amazing Race today; I've seen, heard and remember them all.

To the point where I can sing the "Sooraj ek, chanda ek" song, do the "Tree of Unity" dance, talk like a Fraggle and tell you about the Cruz Castillo - Eden Capwell romance at one sitting. I can tell you why "Sa Re Ga Ma" was good once upon a time and I can tell you to the nearest hundred how many times Anu Kapoor cried on TV during some crap-ass deshbhakti song on Antakshari (The answer is 400). I can explain the family relationships in Khandaan and I can tell you just when Veerawali went wrong in Buniyaad. Don't even get my started on the Friends, Frasiers, Seinfelds and Will and Graces of this world..

But my all time favourites are the reality shows. I used to be addicted to Survivor (when I still lived in Boston) and got my folks addicted to The Amazing Race as well when I got back (Now Amma will not make dinner/visit plans on Wednesday night! Sweet! I've trained her well). But my all time current fav show has got to be "America's Next Top Model". Tyra Banks and a whole posse of gay fashionistas (honestly, those guys are so gay, they make me feel like Butchy McButch!) bitch, moan and criticize a bunch of low self esteem having, sob story carrying, weird disease having, gangly women with giant boobs. How much fun! I've gotten my folks into it (though I suspect Annu just watches it in case Tyra Banks has a boob pop out or something!).

It's on Sundays on Zee Cafe sometime in the afternoon..just as I'm into my post-lunch funk. Last weekend I conned Vij into watching it too...and from what I heard, she loved it. Though that could have just been the giant joint we both smoked talking. Watch Tyra bitch - inhale - eat some alu sabzi - inhale - watch more Tyra - eat more sabzi - inhale - feel guilty for eating sabzi in front of models - inhale - criticize ads during commercial break - eat chips - inhale - Laugh at Jay Manuel - ooh and aah at the make up - inhale - talk about boys - watch more Tyra - mop up alu ki sabzi with chips - laugh - inhale - cheer when token bulimic makes appearance - inhale - laugh - Boo Tyra - flip through Cosmo and do quiz - Boo Tyra again - inhale - pass out just as they're announcing who is voted off.

That is why I love my life. I can combine all my addictions into one thing. I got my Sunday joint, I got my TV, I got my alu sabzi, I got my friend, I got bitching, I got to talk about boys, I got to drool at the Cosmo models..and at the end of the day, I'm sober enough to take an auto back to Bandra. Where I spotted Kunal Kapoor getting into a car and did the "mptch mptch" sound that sidey Bhaiyya-types make when they want to show appreciation. I think he might have spotted me..in which case, that's one more stroke through the list of boys I'd totally do. Heading the list? Still Johnny Depp.

Current Music:
(Feast of) Passover - Lee Perry

To go with the whole joint theme, some fantastic ol' skool reggae with the incredibly high pitched Lee Perry. Still remember listening to it the first time at Ilya's house as he gave me a lap dance while trying hard not to wake up his old land lady. Yes. My life has been "that" weird.

Stand up for your right....to PARRRTTTYYYY!

2006-02-16T23:44:00.000-08:00

Midweek partying is such fun. I feel so evil going out for a drink..OK many drinks..OK many MANY drinks on a Thursday night when like all good Hindu boys I should be praying before Hanuman - The monkey God. Well, you won't catch me on my knees in front of someone sworn to celibacy - God or no God. I didn't do it for Father V. (my school principal) and I ain't doing it for no one!

Anyway, Thursday night found me at Zenzi in Bandra. Managed to get out of dinner with the folks soon and headed over toute suite to watch Vidur Kapoor - a gay Indian stand up comic performing there. Walked in around 8.45 pm to meet a couple of friends I knew were coming...and got started on the beers. Zenzi has good Sour Apple Martinis but they're a bit expensive for a middle-class Bandra boy like yours truly...so I stick to the (again, vastly over-priced) beers while I'm there. Anyhoo, there I am, being all flirty and floozy (That friends, would be my regular Thursday night persona..I'm Miranda all week and Samantha on Thursdays). And then...

Louis XV said it best when he declaimed "Apres moi, le deluge". I walked in and made myself comfy, and then watched the parade of the creme de la creme of Bombay gay society. Hot man after hot man, interesting woman after interesting woman. I'm stunned silent (OK. I'm totally lying here..I can never be silent..let's say I was stunned "less garrulous"). Where were all these fine specimens when I was hanging out at the bar at the GB parties? Where did all the lesbians come from? Why are there no straight people at Zenzi? Why am I drinking beer instead of my usual martini? Questions followed questions. (OK so there was a fine sprinkling of people I detest, but that's just the perils of being a first-class bitch)

Watched Vidur do his act. I loved it. Perhaps I related a lot to being a gay immigrant in America...and the humour therein. Though I recognized a couple of the lines...very Priscilla, Queen of the Desert. I do so love that movie and the bitchiness in it...."I may be gay, but I'm not blind". I so totally want to say that to someone when he asks me out. Though with my luck, I'll end up saying it to myself (seeing as I'm doing a lot more "with myself" nowadays..wink wink). The audience loved it as well...how could it not? A predominantly gay group about evenly divided between the fags and the dykes (The dykes all sat on the floor while the fags queened it up on the few chairs..Sigh! Will our desi women never learn to demand more?)....the jokes played right into the audience. I stood right in front of 2 hot dusky women with fabu bods. Later discovered they were Diandra Soares and Sheetal Mallar. (This sentence for the token straight man I know reads this .. gay men - you have been warned). The two of them were hot. No other word for it. Abso-fucking-lutely hot. For a brief 2 seconds I wondered what watching them make out would be like. And then I spotted a hottie and spent the next 2 hours staring at him. There is now no hope of me ever changing teams methinks...Bye Bye Bi.

In short, had a great time. Drank a lot, flirted a lot, met people, finally met a fellow blogger (Read his take here..I guess he hated me when we finally did meet). I do take getting used to .. especially when I've been hitting the beers. I can't wait for more stand up stuff in Bombay though. I'm dreaming of the day we host Margaret Cho, Eddie Izzard and Ellen! Till then, I suppose we'll have to make do with Shekhar Suman and the ironically named "Great Indian Laughter Challenge"....

Current Music:
99 Luftballons - Nena

T. (The straight German model who shares his tokes with me) and me plan on singing this in German at Not Just Jazz next Sunday..knock the socks off the Sheetals and Karans in South Bombay!

A Valentine's diary

2006-02-15T07:23:00.000-08:00

9 am: Wake up to the sound of my cellphone going absolutely beserk. Apparently, I've been receiving text messages all morning..it's just that I haven't been able to wake up enough to realize that annoying beep isn't the 1920 Bentley that James Purefoy is driving as he drops me off; from a grassy knoll along his manor house to a teeming immigrant block of flats. (Note to self: Do not read Victoriana just before bed)

9.15 am: Check messages. 2 pity SMSes from happily afianced woman friends, 2 SMSes from people I can't trust and 1 from someone who I detest. Fantastic. Happy Valentine's day indeed!

10 am: Walk into work. Realize very soon that there's some sort of Val Day party planned. Secretly hatch plan to develop headache at about 3 pm.

10.30 am: Hide in bathroom to avoid persistent questions about my plans for the night. Thank God someone left a Mumbai Mirror in there to read. Amuse self by reading sex advice column. (Note to self: Frequent masturbation does NOT lead to slight curvature of penis)

12 noon: Decide to skip lunch as it will involve going to a restaurant full of happy couples. Survive on raiding A.'s lunch box and leftover wafers.

1.30 pm: Will this day never end! Check out funny Val Day email forwards sent to me by colleagues. Hide thoughts of strangling cute puppies behind thin smile. (Note to self: Thin, sardonic smile suits me. I should try it more often. Very "I lost my love in the Great War" look)

3 pm: My head hurts (practise session). Receive email saying I am the DJ for office partty to start at 5 pm. Very quickly realize I am to be mocked for my Arabic and Greek music tastes. Hurriedly download "Kajra Re" and "Dus Bahane". Computer protests at choice of el musico crapioso.

4 pm: No, I have no plans for tonight. Decide to print it out on a sheet of A4 paper and pin it to shirt. Start looking through cellphone to find someone to go out with.

5 pm: The party. Avoid dancing proles by pretending to sort music playlist. Am quickly spotted and made to jive surrounded by 55 bemused colleagues. Much half-hearted clapping and much half-assed dancing follow.

6.15 pm: Remember appointment with "Big Lez TV executive" deep in the 'burbs. Panic ensues as I try to make my way out of the office. People mistake me pushing for a new dance move. Am soon pushed back into place. Sigh.

7.30 pm: Cafe Coffee Day, Fun Republic. Waits for "Big Lez" and alarmed to find "Hot Minion" show up instead. Talk of freelance writing project ensues. Waiter snubbed when he assumes we're a couple. Scented candle offer refused politely.

7.45 pm - 8.30 pm: Rickshaw ride back to Bandra. Frantic cellphoning to anyone I assume is single and available. 6 rejections. Sign from God? THERE IS NO GOD!

9 pm: Amma assumed I'd have a date. No dinner prepared for me. Sigh. Am not living up to the expections of my parents (as usual). Decide to take a hot bath and brood.

9.15 pm: Phone call while I'm in shower. Rush out. It might be someone asking me out! It's Meenu. Am invited out to dinner with her and A. and a couple of friends. Think about it for ...10 seconds and say yes. Atlast a chance to wear my nice pants, show off my new haircut and try out my new conversation starters (Note to self: If you try too hard for a possible date, you'll never have the chance to use any of what you prepared)

10.30 pm: Walk into Subway. It's the only restaurant in Bandra that doesn't have a 45 minute wait (or is full of happy couples). I order the # 6 footlong. It costs me 275 Rs. I pay up gladly assuming I'd be paying the same if I was out on a date.

11.30 pm: My conversation on birds and travel is getting me nowhere. Decide to call it a night and take my 6 inches back home. Polite laughter around table as I explain I meant my leftover sub. Decide to head home inspite of kulfi (from Turner Road gaadiwalla) offer.

12 midnight: Eating sub in bed while watching Baywatch. Yasmin Bleeth is making out with some blond hunk. Reflect on me making out with said blond hunk as I chew on my honey oat/chicken/lamb pepperoni/olive/southwest sauce.

00.45 am: Clean crumbs off self. Pick up study of Stalin's henchmen. Settle into bed. Reflect on what I would be doing at 00.45 am if someone had asked me out. Realize I'm better off dreaming of James Purefoy.

3 am: Wake up in cold sweat. Dreamt Beria was caning my buttocks in the Lubyanka. (Note to self: OK. Sono more Stalin's henchmen bios at night either)

Here ends the Valentine's day celebrations of a single gay man in Bombay. Office parties, meetings with hot businesswomen and dining on subs alone while watching Baywatch.

Hooray for the single life...I think.

Birthday weekend extravaganza!

2006-02-06T05:30:00.000-08:00

Thursday
(Out of the Blue, Bandra) Waiting for the rest of the party folks to arrive. I'm wearing blue tinsel from Cheap Jack (Thank you Meenu!) to tell the waiters that I'm the one they should be showering their love and affection on...

The party is underway...This is what drinking wine does to me. Suddenly I'm Madonna with the shiny boobies. Of course, I'm still old enough that to me they're the cutting edge in pop culture..

The delicious German PR guy wasn't available so I got the next best thing. Chocolate cake fed to me by the very awesome Meenu.

Friday
(Redlight, Kalaghoda) Sanj clearly hasn't drunk enough beer to be as happy as me. Then again, it's hip hop, it's a club and I partied like it's my birthday...drank Bacardi like it's my birthday..

The ladies think I'm irresistable. Shweta can't keep her hands off me. Too bad the hottie Manchester Punju boys dancing about 5 feet away didn't think the same...

Saturday
(Enroute to Purple Haze, Bandra) You talkin' to me? (The DeNiro impersonation might have worked if I wasn't so damned happy!)

Saturday
(Thai Ban, Bandra) Clearly, having your fiance sit on the other side of the table has Shweta confused about just which man she really likes. Or maybe the shirt was way too bright to look at directly...

10 things about err..nothing really...

2006-02-03T04:27:00.000-08:00

1. I had one of the funnest birthdays yesterday. Finally realized I have an awesome group of people to hang out with here in Bombay. No more whining about loneliness..I mean; when you have friends who will wear silly hats (Christmas leftovers from Cheap Jack?) and cheer you on as you flirt outrageously with a painfully cute German PR guy (In my case, the flirting involved insulting his mother tongue and then having him sing Happy Birthday to me in Portuguese..), who's alone?

2. Chinese food never fills me up. I can eat till I'm bursting and yet come back home and raid the fridge. It's gotten so bad, I have to warn my mum to stck the fridge for after dinner when I do out. Damn you ajinomoto and brominated vegetable oil!

3. One can't have enough books. After having bought about 12 books from the Strand Book sale (read about my previous Strand-ing here), I managed to buy 5 more this afternoon from Crosswords. Has anyone else realized what a rip-off Crosswords is? Expensive books, bad choice and NO non-fiction!! So now I have 15 books to read (I'm so happy!). 15? Well, I've already read 2 of the ones I bought at Strand (both highly recommended: Last Spring - The Lives and Times of the Great Mughals and Hitler and Stalin - Parallel Lives)

4. The Kalaghoda festival begins tommorrow. Something very exciting is going to be announced on this blog then. Keep your eyes peeled. (*retching as I get a viual of peeled eyes*)

5. Someone told me today that I don't look 30 one bit. Well, thank God for that..seeing as I'm only 29. And post-spa session tommorow, I'm going for the barely-legal (for all you porno afficianados out there) look.

6. Am very anxious. Hair cut tommorrow at Nalini and Yasmin's. The last time I went there I got a fantastic cut while ogling the scrumptious hair stylist colouring some pot-bellied Sindhi businessman's 3 hairs (a la Homer Simpson). This time I want the same..but I just found out the person who cut my hair the last time doesn't work there anymore. Gasp! The one great hair cut in years and I lose my stylist. A. suggests I wear a hat till I locate her. I'm wary of doing that for 2 reasons. I don't own a hat and secondly, what if she's working some salon in Goregaon? Dare I be seen in such a place? (I'm so shallow I'm about 0.5 inches deep. No jokes please.)

7. It's time to retire the Ipod. I spotted the Shivsagar delivery boy with the tell-tale white ear phones as he (as usual) nearly ran me over on his bhaiyya bicycle. I know Bandra folk tip well, but honestly! Enough for the dude to buy an Ipod? (Am reassured by the fact it's probably a Chinese rip off but still! Strangers won't know!)

8. The weather is absolutely dreadful In Bombay right now. Half the junta here feel cold and need the fan off (*points finger at Amma and about half my workplace*) while the other half need the temperature to be close to freezing point cause it's so hot. Why can't we have one of those extreme climates we keep hearing about? When it's cold, it's very cold, and when it's hot, it's very hot? No issues then no?

9. I made out like a bandit this birthday! My sister gave me what seems to be the contents of her pension fund, N. bought me a gargantuan bouquet of flowers (for the record people, I LOVE lilies..Calla lilies if you can find them here), P. got me bookstore vouchers, Meenu - a very appropriate card and an awesome dinner organized, Grandma gave me the usual 501 Rs. (I could use her L&T shares though).

I need more birthdays..suddenly I don't mind getting old.

10. Vacation planning is on in full swing. Now that I realized I'll never be able to afford a place here in Bombay, I guess I'll be one of those DINKs (without the D though..does that make me a SINK?). Lots of money, no responsibilites, no future plans living it up in Ladakh, Turkey and Serbia (My three destination choices so far.. Ladakh cause it's so beautiful, turkey cause I love Tarkan and Serbia cause I got a bunch of friends who've promised to share Belgrade's charms with me).

Current Music:
Everytime you go away (you take a piece of me with you)

If this was one of those Hindi movie titles taken from songs, I'd love to watch EYGAYTAPOMWY...

February 2nd.

2006-02-01T22:35:00.000-08:00

In between answering the many phone calls (Thanks all who called!) and fielding questions from assorted people ("How does it feel to be 29?", "Are you looking forward to 30?", "Shouldn't you get married soon?", "What are you getting for your birthday?") and politely answering ("Good", "No", "No", "Dinner with Meenu"), I've spent 30 minutes on my guilty pleasure this morning. No. It's not what you're thinking..and that takes me about 10 minutes only anyway.

It's reading and editing Wikipedia. Anything that sorta sounds like my name deserves my full attention. And anything that combines my fondness for history, writing and trivia will grab me forever. Does this mean I should be looking for a quizzing historian who writes? Nah. What I need is a "hot" quizzing historian who writes. And is rich. Can't forget the rich part. It would help if he's around my age as well. (*short break as I draft a personals ad to go on www.datehothistorians.com*)

Anyway, as countless Hindi movie actors have said after they wake up in a strange bed with a tomato ketchup laced bandage around their head (Or Nirupa Roy...in EVERY movie!).."Main kahan hoon?"

Oh yeah. Wikipedia.

It tells me that I share my birthday (the "exact" date to the year!) with....

Shakira!!

This might explain my fascination for the lines "Lucky that my lips not only mumble/They spill kisses like a fountain//Lucky that my breasts are small and humble/So you don't confuse them with mountains".
And my fondness for yelling "Le do lo le lo le..le do lo le lo le" at inappropriate times (The good folks at Sahakari Bhandar don't like it when you say that after spying a 2 for 1 special on Axe Deo).
Don't even get me started on "Underneath your clothes"...

I also share my birthday with Ayn Rand (Hate her!), Dana International (How appropriate that an Israeli transsexual Eurovision-loving singer shares this day with me), Christie Brinkley (She's the Uptown Girl...I guess that makes me a Downtown boy?) and Farah Fawcett (I knew it! We both have the same hair/smouldering glance thing going on!).
Wikipedia tells me this is also the day Nell Gwynne, Tallyrand and James Joyce were born!

I'm in great company so far! Hang on...I spy Howard Johnson as well! Oh that's just the low-fat icing on my low-fat, eggless, creamless, sugarless cake! What better person to share your day with than with the founder of the rent-rooms-by-the-hour hotel!

Current Music:
Ao na dance karen - Nazia Hassan

She's still my favourite diva. Whatever happened to Zoheb Hassan? He was hot! Anyone remember the Nazia-Zoheb hour on DD Sunday mornings?

Pampering myself

2006-01-30T04:08:00.000-08:00

Another birthday approaches. The Vikster (One now refers to ones self in the third person. One is easily amused!) grows older. And wiser? Word on the street is...NOT! One insists that everything one has done this year has been good and no fault should be attached to one for all one's mishaps and bloopers. (One is already *so* over "one").

Meenu reminded me that the last time I had a birthday, I wallowed in self-pity for most of the day before meeting up for dinner at Gajalee (Hooray for my favourite restaurant in Bombay!) with her and 6 of my friends where I proceeded to demolish the heck out of this full ravas fry. Thanks to C. who bought me orchids that time..I had a fun time trying to explain to the bemused rickshawwalla what I was doing at 2 am walking around festooned with purple orchid blossoms (This as opposed to all the other times when I'm festooned with Jasmine blossoms. OK. Forgive me, I just found out I'm blogging a screening of Umrao Jaan and was just getting into the mood).

I haven't really celebrated my birthday since I turned 21. At 22 I was alone in a Virginia winter, ditto 23, at 24 I actually moved apartments from Arlington to Brookline that day so I remember a birthday meal of beer and pizza, at 25 I was huddled under a duvet boo-hooing that my life was over, at 26 I was shovelling snow from my yard (ALL Frikkin DAY!), at 27 I was mourning an ex...28 you just heard about.

And now I'm almost 29. Wow. Time flies! This means in that quaint auntie-uncle lingo, I'm "running" 30. Yikes! Major panic time approaching. Should I panic now, or just wait till I actually hit the big 3-0? Hey, "3-0" is also my score with boyfriends! Is this a sign from up above? Anyway, all I know is I'm doing it with a bang. Not "that" kind, though "it" would make for a thoughtful birthday present. (I just realized I now have 4 quotation marks in this para alone. I hate my "Valley-Girl" avatar already!) Meenu and me have sat down over a drink (or was it a joint? I forget) and talked about what I should do/how I should spend my birthday. Emphasis on the word "spend". That should give you some idea.

Retail therapy! That's the ticket to happiness. Having already spent 5 grand on books at last week's Strand Book Sale ("Elizabeth of Austria, Lucrezia Borgia, The Great Mughals, Dante's Inferno, Arthashatra" - and I wonder why I'm destined to be alone LOL!), I now have a budget thinner than my upper arm after a Ramzan fast. Infusions of my meagre savings have inflated it to a respectable 4 figures and now the thought of how I'm spending it is bringing joy to my heart (and saliva to my mouth..but we'll discount that as having something to do with the Andorra's roast chicken leg sitting on my table). So what do I do with my millions? For one: I'm buying a suit. Ever since US Airways lost my baggage one nightmarish Thanksgiving, I've not had something formal to wear. OK, so I have nowhere formal to wear it to. But my friend S. (who is getting married to my other firend S.) tells me I'll be invited to his wedding. So I'm gonna look hot for all the Gujju-Punju folks out there, scarfing down my pani-puri and butter-chicken while looking supremely cool in my Armani? Ungaro? Gabbana?....Chalo, Raymonds...

Also, I'm "spa-ing" it. Yep. This homo is going the metro way. I'm planning on getting shaved, plucked, waxed, ironed and blow dried for good measure. A steam, a massage and facial later, I'm hoping to be unrecognizable enough that I can ask the same people out again. (And begin the rejection phase with a new face. Somethings never change eh?).

Actually I'm only "spa-ing" it (Why can't I say "spa-ing" without the quotes?) so I can blog about it. Also cause my friend A. tells me she had this really hot guy there squeezing out her black/white heads (what's the difference?) I haven't had either head squeezed in a while now (I pause to re-read this sentence and check if it's going to offend anyone. Then I realize, I don't give a flying fuck. Hehehe. Flying fuck.)

And then fnally, go through my phone book and call up everyone I know (or haven't erased for some imaginary slight) and ask them to join me in drinks, dancing and bitching. And presents. Lots of them (Preferably 6'2, muscled and wearing a bow. "Only" the bow).

Current Music:
Messiah - Handel

Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Hallelujah! Halle-lu-jah! Haaaaa-hale-le-le-lu-jah!

It's lunchtime and..

2006-01-19T00:50:00.000-08:00

I'm going through all the blogs that are listed on the right hand side of this post (*gestures with Vanna White-ish motion towards list*). I find that my friend from college Hob Gadling very kindly tagged me on the 20th of December and true to my procrastinating self, I'm only getting around it today.. almost a month later. Sounds about right eh?

So here goes...drumroll please (I'm suffering from watching the Golden Globe presentation show twice and the first episode of American Idol; 2 hours long; twice as well..) This is Vikster's list of his Top Ten favourite things to eat. And no, the rump of a Midwestern farm boy does not count.... Does it?

10. Alu Methi : Potatoes and Fenugreek (for my 4 readers in Israel and South Africa and ... Borneo?) to be more precise. I can eat about a ton of this at a time if I have some steamed rice and dal (sheeth ani dali toi in Konkani) to go with it. Everyone's happy. My dad cause I'm eating vegetarian, my mum cause I'm eating green stuff and me...cause I like it!

9. Tiramisu : I'm not a huge sweet things fan usually but I'll do anything for some good tiramisu (Did you know there's a tiramisu candy bar now?). Sadly haven't found any good stuff in Bombay .. besides the stuff made by the Italian chef I was schtupping for a while. So I guess store-bought Trader Joe's stuff still rules in my book.

8. Chicken Shawarma : I share a love for Chicken Shawarma along with Ariel Sharon and Saddam Hussain (food of choice for ageing overweight Middle-Easterners!) I thought I'd never eat good shawarma once I moved out of Brookline (Shawarma King on Beacon Street rocked my life for the 2 years I spent at Coolidge Corner). And guess what? Biona in Bandra (Hill Road) has quite a similar quality. OK, so here it's saltier, the tahini is not as good and the cook isn't a hot Arab hunk from Nablus...but so what?

7. Chicken Cordon Bleu : To be more specific, the one at Cafe Mocambo in the Fort. Deep fried chicken fillets, stuffed with ham and cheese in a creamy mushroom sauce with bacon and truffle garnish. Thud.

(That was the sound of me collapsing as the giant ball of grease traverses my blood vessels and f's up my brain)

6. Garlic Pierozhkis : To the desis who dunno what a pierozhki is .. it's a Slavic dish that sorta looks like a stuffed karanji - if the karanji was made of maida, stuffed with garlic mashed potatoes and boiled. I can eat it any which way. Just boiled with some olive oil dressing, smothered in pasta sauce or deep fried with ketchup. I think I once went for 2 whole weeks eating nothing but pierozhkis. And drinking nothing but plum brandy. And watching Tarakovsky over and over again as I debated how to slit my wrists. Ooh Slavic depression, how I love thee!

5. Kaanda Bhajiya : Onion Bhaji as the Paki restaurants in London call it...The perfect accompaning dish to a hot cup of ginger tea. It's the quintessential Bombay monsoon meal. You get soaked on your way back home, you wade through 3 feet deep gutters, you dodge drowned rats and homeless people, you come home to a leaky 300 square foot house, put your feet up and enjoy your Kaanda bhajiya! The typical Bombay guy experience.

4. Chicken Pot rice : I'm addicted to the one they make at 5-Spice in Bandra. People who know me in person will know why 5-Spice is my new favorite hang out place in Bombay (hehe!). And their pot rice is total paisa vasool. 180 bucks for a meal for two? Awe-bleddy-some as Diandra Perolina Elvira Soares-Figueriedo aunty would say (If she could afford the restaurant to begin with..)

3. Bombay Duck fry : At Gajalee, Vile Parle E (I'm secretly proud of being one of the first people to eat there..we went there on the opening day. Us from Bandra and the Deshpandes, Sahasrabuddhes and Mashelkars of the area). For a Tuluva place, they sure make very good Bombay Duck (*takes break to point out to 3 readers in Ottawa that Bombay Duck is a fish native to the Arabian Sea near Bombay*). Best way to eat it? Squeeze some lemon juice on some well battered, deep fried bombil and you're good to go.

2. Mackeral Rechiad : The only (food-related) reason to go to Goa methinks. Fresh mackeral stuffed with vinegary spicy Goan masala and fried, eaten with some hot steamed rice and perhaps some gravy from your friend's xacuti. Awesome. Mackeral being a very oily fish to begin with has that smooth gamey texture that makes it so tasty with rice...plus it's Goan food which I love anyway!

And the number 1. thing I love to eat is...(Johnny Depp! oops..wrong list)

1. Crab in Coconut curry : Amchigele (Konkani) style! It's been my favorite dish since I discovered what a mess i was allowed to make at the dining table while eating it. Now that I've mastered the art of shelling a crab with the tips of the fingers of my right hand alone (woohooo! Resume-worthy skill methinks!), I demand this all the time from po' ol' Amma who realized soon enough that the cons of being a good cook are the incessant demands from me!

So there you have it, my top 10 favorite things to eat. A prepondrance of fishy things pays homage to my Konkani heritage, the random foreign maal on the list is thanks to my years in random foreign lands (Or "vilaayat" as I like to call it).

It's been 2 hours since I started this post. It's made me so hungry, I've had to order in a couple of burgers to fill up that nagging, gnawing, gaping hole in my stomach. Munch.

Current Music:
Laissez-moi dancer - Dalida

If I was a drag queen performer , this would be the song I'd sing. But then I'd have to shave my legs...and there's not time enough in this epoch for me to get anywhere with all that hair!

Morning Cock

2006-01-18T06:54:00.000-08:00

Morning-Cock
Originally uploaded by TheHotVikster.

A picture of a toy I saw in a shop window at Baga beach.

It's made me laugh everyday I've looked at it. And I'm so glad I have it now to look at.

Thank God for cheap Chinese toys.

The little Indian that could...

2006-01-17T08:15:00.000-08:00

That would be me. Atleast, that's what it's taken me close to 2 weeks to come up with. To weigh the pros and cons, to assess my options, to come up with reasons not to, to procrastinate and hope it goes away, to walk away and let the thoughts come flooding in, to take a break from it all and see what happens. It's all come down to tonight.

Tonight is M. birthday. Well, it's morning in Boston so I suppose he's just waking up about now to a cup of birthday cheer. And I'm petrified he's not alone. Alone like I am. Alone like I feel.

It's taken me 2 weeks to decide that I will call him tonight and wish him a happy birthday and the best that life has to offer. Because that is what I want for him. For him to be happy, successful and smiling. The way I remember him the last birthday when he was holding me at the bar at Seven watching Meenu and the gang dancing away. Or smiling with that mischevious glint in his eye when I told him what his birthday present was going to be that night.

I miss him so much - it physically hurts. I didn't think I felt this strongly for him. I thought the feeling would go away in time. I thought I'd meet other guys and I'd soon forget. And guess what? It has only gotten stronger. The guys I've met have only lead me to believe that M. was the one for me. And I let him go. I feel like such a fool about it today. I could have had it all...and I chose to leave it and come back to Bombay thinking I could be happier. And I'm not.

I hope this call changes things. I don't think he wants me back...all I want to do is hear his voice. I haven't heard him call me Twigster in 6 months now. (BTW, that name has nothing to do with my frame..more to do with my love for a certain Pizzicato 5 song) I think I would be crushed if he had someone else in his life. But there's nothing I can do about it is there?

Well, there is. 2 weeks of thinking (and 3 kilos down...man! Stress sure is a weight killer!) and I now have a resolution. I'm calling M. on his birthday. And I'm doingmy darndest to get back to Boston and him. Even if he's not available anymore, I have a goal to work for.

N. thinks i'm chasing a mirage. V. thinks I can find someone here and forget. Meenu thinks I have to try to move on. And God knows I tried. Even found 3 guys I thought were dateable. And? One fucks around, One is not into "relationships" and One lies his teeth off. The cream of Bombay's crop. Huzzah for the single life!

Anyway, this post sounds like such a downer. But I am down. I'm chipper and jumping all over the place 360 days of the year. But those remaining 5 days...Oy! Those 5 days! For all those who tried comforting me the last few days...thanks! I'll be much much better tommorrow. For al those who missed me and emailed asking for a blog post, thanks! Bet you didn't think this maudlin drivel was what you would get eh? And for all those comments asking me to "Get a life" and "Die fag die", thanks as well! You obviously took the time out to come to this blog and read.....

Current Music:
Some GODAWFUL Indian Idol shit my parents are making me listen to.

If I wasn't depressed then, I sure am now.

Goa diary - Part 1

2006-01-01T23:46:00.000-08:00

My first vacation in 2005! (OK so I'm not counting the days I spent doing "volunteer work"..cough..unemployed..cough). For the second year in a row, I "did" Goa. Along with everyone else in Bombay it seems. Then again, proportionately, I think there were more Delhiwallahs there..lots of "haalthee-waalthee" Punjabi mundas with fair skin, aquiline noses and atrocious English and worse manners. But I digress...

I made Goa plans with a bunch of fun friends of mine..and friends of theirs. All "family".. well, except for the straight women who came along with us. Had a harrowing time trying to locate the car we were driving in at Bandra East. Man, the traffic in that part of the city is HORRIBLE! Anyway, found the car, found the driver and off we went..driving off into the sunset (well, not quite..seeing as driving due west would send us into the Arabian Sea and enroute to Somalia - NOT where I planned on spending New Year's Eve). Realized very early that our driver was a maniac, a speed demon, insane actually. This made us break off ou journey a little earlier than we expected...spening the night at a ratty old hotel in Chiplun - about halfway to Goa. After donating what seemed like the better part of a pint to the mosquitoes of Chiplun (I got a thank you card from their happy buzzing children yesterday .. written in blood?), we took off after many groans and moans at 5 am. (Minds outta the gutter..it was wicked early that's all..and COLD!)

And passed miles upon miles of beautiful Konkan scenery. I think I quite bored Ro's ears off yapping about the differences in architechture between Brahmin tiled roofs and Kunbi ones. Man, I need to forget some of the trivia I'm carrying around. I need one of those Dumbledore pensieves or something. Anyway, about 20 hours after leaving Bombay, my sore litle ass got to Baga-Calangute..into what seemed like the precursor to Spring Break in Cancun...only with HOT HOT HOT HOT men around and very mediocre women. That's what will remain the lasting memory of this vacation for me. The men were incredibly hot. The women? Not quite.

And then the vacation melts into one vision of "wake up, breakfast, beach, lunch, beach, tea, beach, club, dinner, club, bar, club, sleep". Lather, rinse, repeat.
English breakfast - sausages, bacon, toast, marmalade, potatoes, tomato and Heinz baked beans with a huge pot of Assam! Man, if I ate breakfast like that everyday I'd turn into Ariel Sharon's younger, obese'r brother! It's a wonder I even had room for lunch follwing such a breakfast...and the couple of beers that followed. And all this EVERYDAY for 3 days! Not to mention the lunches at Sousa Lobo's, the shopping at Casa Goa and the 3 km trek up and down the Baga-Calangute road pushing off the cabbies, the Rajasthani lantern sellers and the Kashmiri handicraft guys (Though I wouldn't have minded taking home a couple of those Kashmiri shop guys...man! That militancy and bad weather breeds some hot guys up there!). I resisted shopping till the last day..and even then I ended up buying cashews (My favoutire Konkani dish tendle-bibbo upkari is made from it..).

I felt weird a few times...I had spent last New Year's Eve in the VERY SAME place but with M. by my side. It felt weird to go places where the two of us had enjoyed ourselves so darn much. Passing O'Pescador where I sang a song for him over dinner, walking past Roseal's - the shack the two of s spent our days at, even eating beef stroganoff at Sousa Lobo's..all mixed up with mackerel Rechiad. Everyone a memory of a lost love.

The next post will be about my fantastic (tres tres fantastique) New Year's Eve watching the fireworks on the beach and dancing the night away at Eden - Calangute's very own gay club and about the fun people I met in Goa...2 of whom I would have dated - had they been available!

Current Music:
Missing - Everything but the Girl

Like the deserts miss the rain. Ah well...C'est la vie, non?

Vikram

2005-12-27T02:33:00.000-08:00

Vikram
Originally uploaded by derequito.

Me. Boston in the fall. I miss it so.

Reflections?

2005-12-26T23:53:00.000-08:00

What did you do in 2005 that you'd never done before?
Blog.

Did you keep new year's resolutions and will you make more next year?
I don't make resolutions. Never have.

Did anyone close to you give birth?
My cousin's wife did. To a beautiful blue-eyed baby girl. I'm very happy for them. (Wondering if I'll ever be that happy and proud...)

Did anyone close to you die?
Weirdly, no. This has got to be the first year that happened. I'm glad in a way. But scared that means 2006 will have deaths a-plenty.

What countries did you visit?
None. I considered going to Pakistan to meet M. when he was there but somehow it didn't happen. Ah well.

What would you like to have in 2006 that you lacked in 2005?
A chance and the money to travel abroad on a vacation.

What dates from 2005 will remain etched in your memory and why?
January 17th - Celebrating M.'s birthday with him holding me.
August 19th - The end of our relationship. I can still remember how lost I felt that day.

What was your biggest achievement of the year?
I really don't know how to answer this question. I suppose it will have to be meeting wonderful people from all over the world. (G-d, I sound like Miss World when I say this!)

What was your biggest failure this year?
I lost a few friends. I take it personally that I wasn't able to forgive.

Did you suffer illness or injury?
No. Unless you count the over-indulgence on Punjab Sweet House samosa related gastric distress.

What was the best thing you bought?
A pair of cool looking canvas shoes. They have kept my feet so comfy I'm amazed!

Whose behaviour merited celebration?
A friend of mine K. who left his job and moved to the Andaman islands to help out people who've lost everything post-tsunami. He's still there as of now..it's been a year. He got profiled in a major magazine this week which is cause for celebration. But more than that, I admire him for this.

Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
Certain aquaintances of mine. The ones still having unsafe, promiscous sex. in 2005!

What did you spend most of your spare cash on?
Wine, men and song. And food, lots of it.

What did you get really, really excited about?
Meeting Mithun Chakraborthy for an interview. I almost pee'd my pants.

What song will always remind you of 2005?
Kajra Re. The single most played song everywhere this year. I have to agree with Kate on this one.

Compared to this time last year are you happier or sadder?
Sadder. This time last year, I was picking up M. from the airport. I don't think I have ever been happier.

Thinner or fatter?
Fatter. All around my belly sadly. Bye Bye flat stomach.

Richer or poorer?
Poorer money wise.
Richer friend wise.

What do you wish you'd done more of?
Been a better brother to my sister.

What do you wish you'd done less of?
Whine about how sad my life is. (It really isn't..not when I compare it to those of most other people).

How will you be spending Christmas?
In Pune at a friend's birthday party. And no. My friend is NOT Jesus.

Did you fall in love in 2005?
Nope. I started the year off in love with someone and I'm ending it in love with someone.
Then again, I'm in love with a couple of people I've never met...just by reading their comments on my blog.

How many one-night-stands?
A gentleman doesn't kiss and tell. (That's the polite way of saying "It's none of your business")

What was your favorite TV programme?
The Amazing Race takes the cake another year running! Though the family edition SUCKED!

Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
No. The people I hate, I've hated for a long time now.

What was the last book you read?
Founding Mothers (the biographies of assorted wives and daughters of the American Founding Fathers)

What was your greatest musical discovery?
Serbian folk music.

What did you want and get?
The respect of my peers (HAHAHAHAHAHAHH!)

What did you want and not get?
M.

What was your favorite film this year?
In 2005, I'd have to say "Die Mommie Die" (which was released in 2003 I think, but I only watched it this year.

What did you do on your birthday and how old are you?
I watched a movie alone and then bought myself a cupcake. I'm 28.

What one thing would've made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
A long holiday through Southern Europe. Alone.

How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2005?
Went from military to Indian commie to urban gay boi. I just haven't found a look that I like.

What kept you sane?
Hanging out at Cafe Coffee Day in Bandra with a good book watching the sea.

Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
Abhishek Bachchan (India)
Gavin Newsom (the Mayor of San Francisco)

What political issue has stirred you the most?
The fact that a corruption issue held up the business of the Parliament for days while important bills needed to be passed. (I'm a politics junkie)

Who did you miss?
M.

Who was the best new person you met this year?
Everyone of you blog readers I met this year. It's amazing how awesome you all are (in your own ways, of course!)

Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2005.
There is always someone out there who cares for me (even when I feel all alone)

Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.
Livin' might mean takin' chances, but they're worth takin'
Lovin' might be a mistake, but it's worth makin'

(I hope you dance - Lee Ann Womack)

Christmas cheer all!

2005-12-23T22:07:00.000-08:00

Ho Ho Ho!

So if I disregard the pot-bellied man commenting on my lifestyle, I can move ahead wishing each and every one of you a very Merry Christmas and all that. I've spent too long in the US methinks..I spent all of yesterday wishing my colleagues a Happy Chanukkah and Happy Kwanzaa as well. I think my friends think I'm on drugs...to good ol' Bombay ears sounds like Chanukkah and Kwanzaa sound very much like the sounds a PHP-fuelled go-go boy makes as he's climbing out of his thong into his cage at Avalon in Boston. Then again, why would I think Bombay ears (or other parts) know what go-go boys, Avalon or thongs are?

Bandra is THE place to be at Christmas time...right from the streetkids selling you Santa Claus hats (Made in China) at the traffic lights to bargaining with a Bhaiyya selling you those plasticky "Christmas tress" (Made in China). Hill Road is transformed this time of the year. The bit of the street opposite St. Joseph's and next to St. Stanislaus (The Catholic street as Amma calls it to distinguish it from the Muslim street further down towards the station) looks amazingly festive with red, green and white stuff all around (all Made in China). I even spotted a couple of Italian Red/Green/White flags (WTF?) as Christmas bunting! Buying last minute Christmas cards at Cheap Jack ("How you forget Philo aunty men?") to rushing about to Jude's seeing if they have any turkeys left ("What men? I told no keep 10kg bird for me?"), this area is the scene of frenzied activity as aunties (never uncles I see...they're probably starting early on the "Christmas cheer".. hic!) run about finishing up their last minute shopping.

What I like about a Bandra Christmas is how neighbourly and family-oriented it is as opposed to the commercial monstrosity that the West has made it. Watching your neighbours in their grey suits and tight red sequinned dresses going off to St. Andrew's to watch the choir, joining them as they go carol singing from door to door, putting up your Christmas lights(or in the case of this lazy Hindu, leaving them up WAY after Diwali), going to Midnight Mass with your friends and neighbours and finally coming home to listen to some ol' fashioned "I'm dreaming of a White Christmas". Yeah right! A White Christmas in tropical Bombay..that's a Christmas miracle I want to see!

And how can I forget trudging up Hill Road to go look at the Damian Christmas window display? Another olde Bandra tradition..right down to the giant wreath and weird placing of Santa Claus in the manger adoring the Baby Jesus (They had reindeer in Bethlehem?).

And gasping at just how tackalicious the Pot Pourri decor is this year. The whole restaurant seems to be wrapped up in red ribbon and silver glitter...it's like Santa Claus exploded in there. It would help if the waitstaff got some of their Christmas cheer in place though. I was positively sneered at when I ordered a Chicken Stroganoff the other day!

And the food! I love to wake up early on Christmas morning and wait for my neighbours to start handing out the food plates...kalkals, coconut cake, cookies, chocolate, marzipan! It's enough to put me in a diabetic coma for a week! (Of course, that's all the Catholic revenge for my Hindu passing out of deep-fried delicacies over Diwali...trade cholesterol issues for diabetes..fair no?). And then, even though I'm not Christian, handing out gifts to family and friends..that's the best part of Christmas, isn't it?

On a side note, my favourite Christmas line comes from AbFab (Of course...as do most of my life quotes):
Edina: "Sweetie, what is it you're giving me for Christmas darling? I just want to know if it'[s something I want"
Saffy: "Mum! It's the thought that counts!"
Edina: "It's the thought that I'm afraid of sweetie!"

Anyway, Merry Chismukkwanzaa to you! And Happy Festivus to me. Methinks it's time for the airing of the grievances...(Plus 10 to those who get the reference. Points to be redeemed for kisses on Valentine's Day.)

Current Music:
Stille nacht, heilige nacht

You know me. Why listen to the "common" Silent Night when you can listen to the original German hymn? And show off a bit while you're at it?

Kids today...I tell ya!

2005-12-18T21:41:00.000-08:00

Vij and me have had long conversations about dating younger guys..as have Guppie and me. Conversations between Meenu and me (and assorted bystanders) on this topic can fill up a small book (tasteful, coffee-table sized..with flattering pictures of me discussing this over a coffee at Carters). Heck, besides Meenu , I have 3 other friends in relationships with younger men. OK, to qualify that statement..I have 3 other *female* friends in relationships with younger men (ranging in age from 2 years younger to an astonighing 7 years younger).

In the gay world, it's more of a fetish issue. Some men have fetishes for the older, greying, pot-bellied types while some have a fetish for the barely out of their teens, can't raise a stubble type. (Will receive lots of heat for next statement so read it, understand it and then bitch about it pliz!). Most of the gay men I've met don't want to date their age. The ones I know in their mid-to-late thirties onwards seem to hang out with them 19 year olds; and vice versa. Of course, people my age (late 20's) are too busy trying to pick a side (both age-wise and sexuality-wise) so we're fucked either way! Over the past few months, people I've met who're my age have either confessed to liking them much younger or much older. Not the same age....and I've always wondered why!

Personally, I'm very comfy around people my own age. I grew up in a different time in India. Sorta straddled the old socialist behemoth with the new consumer age. I know what it's like to have waited 8 years for a telephone connection and remember paying Rs. 5 per month as school fees. And I also remember *seeing* my first computer and drinking my first Coke in my late teens. My "gay life" had both periods of extreme guilt as examplified by the 80's and (err) gay abandon typified by the youth of today. It's hard to adjust to people who have no memories of growing up in the 1980's. It's equally hard for me to relate to people who were grown up when I was a little boy in chuddies. And by relate to, I mean in a relationship sense. Not as friends.

Meenu has held my hand as I wailed and bemoaned the lack of datable guys in their late 20's/early 30's. "They're too busy getting married and planning on cheating on their wives" she said. "They're too busy dating EVERYONE else but me!" I said. I believe the truth lies somewhere in the middle. I've been told to suck it up (hehehe) and go out with the 21 year old who finds me interesting. I've been told to pull up my socks (hahaha) and date the 43 year old who has the hots for me. I read this interesting (but incredibly badly written) article that talked about how the ancient Hindus believed that the ideal age-gap between partners is 3 years. Which means I should be open to dating 26-32 year olds. But where are they? The 26 year olds are shagging the 40+ crowd and the 32 year olds have taken to robbing cradles...

M. was 30, E. was 32 and I. was 25. And even though none of them was Indian, I still felt close enough in age to them to be comfy around them. The feeling is intensified in India. Here, there's more that I can/should have in common and it just doesn't happen anymore. "Age ain't nothing but a number" as a lot of people have told me. But it's hard! The huge age gaps work for most of the people I know. It just takes a good deal of work for it to work for me. I'll try...G-d knows I'll try! But it's going to exhaust me.

Current music:
Omaeni Horeta - Misora Hibari

My favourite Japanese singer (and one of my favourite Japanese songs). Her heyday was the mid 50's so I guess she's like a Japanese Patsy Cline...no wonder I like her!

You know you're a Bandra boy when..

2005-12-14T22:09:00.000-08:00

I came up with these a few months ago (On 15/7/05 on the Orkut Bombay community to be precise LOL!)when I was chatting with a few friends on Orkut. Of course, seeing as not many of you blog readers are Bombayites to begin with and an even fewer percentage are Bandraites, please to be maafing me for this. ("Please to be maaf karofying me" also works)

20 signs that you're a Bandra boy...

1. You call every lady older than you "Aunty" and every man "Uncle".

2. Your closet contains atleast one suit and/or one red, tight, sequinned dress.

3. You exclaim "JesusMaryJoseph" when anything goes wrong.

4. You cross yourself as you pass Mahim Creek into Bandra.

5. You remember all the bungalows lining the streets before the builders discovered Bandra.

6. You used to go to SeaRock when it was the ONLY 5-star hotel in the burbs.

7. You live in Bandra West and have never been to the East.

8. It's Mahim Creek dammit! (Not Bandra creek)

9. You know Jeff's biryani is way better than oily Lucky stuff.

10. You've eaten pork at some point (knowingly..or unknowingly..)

11. Every other sentence you speak ends in "men" (NOT "man")

12. You say "Aks" instead of "Ask".

13. You went to either Stanislaus', Andrew's, Theresa's, Joseph's, Duruelo's, Anne's or Mt. Carmel's. AVM is for the Gujjus.

14. You had a girlfriend in the girl's school next door. (or vice versa)

15. You can hear church bells and namaz calls at 6 am from your house.

16. You can navigate through Old Bandra and Pali village without getting lost.

17. You remember what the area where Jogger's Park is now used to look like.

18. You have been to Bandra Gym.

19. You can jive.

20. You always complain about how "they" are moving into Bandra.

Current Music:
Episode 1 of the Ricky Gervais Show - Ricky Gervais and friends

Not really music, but a Podcast off the Guardian site. Ricky Gervais (from "The Office" and "Extras") is one of the funniest guys I've seen on TV. And this "interview/chat" is pretty funny as well! Up next? Russell Peters - the funniest Indian comedian around!

What I did this weekend...and other musings.

2005-12-11T21:44:00.000-08:00

This was a fun weekend! It's been a long time since I've actually had an almost completely positive time...and that includes the insane amounts of sleep I've managed to catch up on. I must be seriously sleep deprived to be able to snore away like I have this weekend. I think it's because the weather has gotten nice and chilly (Bombay style..i.e. about 28C) over the last few days and snuggling up in a quilt with my favourite book du jour (I'm devouring each and every one of the "Adventures of the Five Find Outers and Dog" by Enid Blyton. Am I regressing to Vikster: Age 6?)

On a side note, I'm horrified that I think Pip from that series sounds hot. Hot like a British Public School boy who's being naughty...There must be a special place in hell reserved for people like me..people who find teenage boys in Enid Blyton books hot.

Anyway, back to the topic at hand (Jeez! I'm so easily distracted..what was that? Blueberry Cheesecake? - edit: Colleague was eating some at next table).

So on Saturday I had a party to go to..hosted very kindly by Guppie with the sole purpose of
1. Having fun
2. Meeting new, interesting, intelligent gay men
3. Getting us all laid.
While I realize that three points don't quite make it a "sole" purpose, I suppose I could combine them into one (Edit: Having fun getting laid by new, interesting, intelligent people). It was a "Come and bring a friend" type party so we could expand our "little black books" just that many more entries. So the party was at around 10 pm., but at about 8, Meenu calls me over to Zenzi for dinner with a bunch of people who I'd never met. And me being the sucker for not being alone at home on a Saturday night, and since I was already dressed up (at 8 for a 10 pm party..yes! My life is just that tragic), I went along.

And had a blast! They have the best tuna sashimi at Zenzi. What a pity it's an appetizer and not a main course (then again, with the prices there, I can only afford the odd appetizer..unless I depend upon the kindness of strangers). The conversation was fun, the compliments flew fast, furious and (runs out of alliterative F word). And my new facial hair was much approved by all. Well, the women seemed to like it (as did one guy...who "recognized me from my blog"..WHOA!). I didn't want to leave, but the promise of 20 hot men drew me away and into the wilderness that is tony Bandra (Not "Tony, Bandra" .. though weirdly, both would work). I got to the party to realize that the only people there besides the host and me were 2 old friends of mine...Anyway, began hitting the white wine rather early..and rather soon methinks..because before I know it, there's 20 people in the room and we're playing Twister and Truth or Dare (Yes. A room full of gay men in their late twenties pretty nearly equates to a private girls school dorm room in the 1970's).

Staggered out and back home to bed at 4 am. since I had to take an American visitor out to show her the city early the next morning. Spent a wonderful day with her and my friend Ro, walking thourgh Bombay Universtiy, talking about Indo-Gothic architecture and the law, and hanging out looking at tombs inside St. Thomas' Anglican Cathedral (very "High Church" indeed!). I managed to take some lovely pictures of the tombs and the interiors of the church. Here's a couple of them..The tombs themselves were very sad. Full of young civil servants in their 20's and young English brides in their teens dying in childbirth, of malaria, cholera and of "the heat", being murdered by bandits. Life in early 1800's Bombay must have been hard!

And then an awesome siesta followed by dinner with the folks (and the sister's in-laws). Talked about restaurants, movies and generic Konkani topics like sarees, old Mamamas and Ajjas and the various Amchigele caterers around Bombay.

This weekend was spent the way I like. With friends, with family, with food and with wine. With history, with interresting people to meet and talk to and with architechture. With dreams of Pip Hilton and visions of Ye Olde England. With flirtation, making up with friends-turned-foes and coffee with blog readers.

Suddenly my life doesn't seem as bad as I think it is mid-week. I'm happy.

Current Music:
Libera Me - Interview with a Vampire

Libera me, Domine, de morte aeterna in die illa tremenda....Roswitha, you're about the only one reading I expect will know this..

Talk! Parlate! Parlez!

2005-12-08T01:19:00.000-08:00

As I sit here at work struggling to translate some adverts I wrote into Chinese (Why! Oh Why do 1.5 billion people in this world speak Chinese! Makes so much more work for me), I'm left laughing at all the fun translations of simple sentences that Babelfish and Google Translator come up with...And then I wonder what I sound like when I talk to people in a language other than English (though the less charitable among my friends will claim I sound just as horrendous in English).

Well, my mother tongue is Konkani. Apparently, I was some sort of child prodigy who at age 3 could recite the Ramayana and Mahabharata in chaste Konkani and would spend my time correcting assorted great grand mothers as to the purity of their language (Then, like now, I guess I had nothing better to do) Note: These great grand mothers were all about 2 *hours* removed from a village..so this 3 year old Bombay boy correcting them when they say "kalingan" instead of the more orthodox "bacchang" for watermelon didn't go down too well with them.
Ah well...they're dead now. I'm still alive. Though my Konkani (after it's usual meanderings through life at Catholic school where we were told we spoke the language of the devil...apparently God speaks English .. that too Bandra-aunty English) has now been sadly corrupted into a Bombay mishmash, I can still look upon with happiness those days of superiority over old, semi-paralyzed women as one of the triumphs of my sad sad life.

I also speak English. Well, I don't think so. I used to be far better when I was in school. I read my old English composition ("compo") books today and don't know what half those words mean. And my handwriting? Wow! I'd give myself an award for it (Then again, I'd award myself for pretty much anything...You got up this morning? Congrats! Here's your medal!). Though my accent has gone all over the place..Went from "Generic Bombay school kid" to "I'm not vernie" at college to "Keeping up with the Peddar Roadites" in Engg school to "Desi FOBulous" in Virginia to "middle-class Bostonian" in Boston to "Bandra aunty" today.

Hindi? That was my strong point in school. Imagine! A kid who never even spoke a word or even heard anyone in the family speak it till he was in the 5th grade...suddenly I'm up for the Highest marks in Hindi award in 10th grade! Ages 12 to about 16 had me speak Hindi like I was some sorta pundit from the Ganga belt (probably around Varanasi)..without the annoying bhaiyya accent but with the flowery-showery lingo and vocab that the cis and trans Ganga folk have. NOw? I sound like a Punjabi aunty who lived in Goa for a while. Hello-shello men, aaj kaise ho dude?

As for Marathi, I refuse to talk it ever since the Shiv Sena made such a big deal about people like me not being Maharashtrians..like it matters. My people were in Bombay while their's were still starving to death in some god-forsaken village in Amravati and they have the balls to call me a foreigner in my own city? No more Marathi for me, thankyouverymuch.

Gujarati I learnt thanks to my group in Engg. school..all Bawas and GTHs (Gujju'turned'hep..I mean "hayyp"). I haven't had the chance to use it yet seeing as the ones I know are all the HS Juhu-Lokhandwalla/Peddar Road types...refuse to speak in Gujju to anyone..and if they have to it's in a nice America-ni-accent.

I learnt French in school and polished it (off?) at Alliance Francaise in Bombay..the one on Homji Mody street. Somehow I fell in love with the language and how it sounded. The tenses were a killer though but saying the list of "etre" verbs every night before bed helped me out a lot. Of course my accent is somewhere between Mauritian Creole (my teacher was one) and Montreal immigrant. S. thinks I sound funny when I speak it. Well, D'uh! It's hard to sound sane when you're mouthing things like "The rain, it falls today" and "My mother short puts the book thick on the shelf"

Italian I picked up at the Boston Center for Adult Education..because there as here, I was bored all evening with not much to do. Read somewhere (Probably "Lonely Planet"...*not* the travel book..I mean the Bible for singles..) that it's a good hobby and a nice place to meet other people. So I decided to pick Italian for Beginners (alos a very nice Danish movie) along with "How to make the perfect lasagna". At the end of six months, I could make a perfect spinach lasagna and order a 4 course meal at a posh Italian resto. The downside? My married Italian instructor (a woman I might add) fell in love with me. And since I didn't know the words for "your husband will kill me" ("Il vostro marito ucciderà io" as I found out later), I was forced to come out to her during a very weird meal at Legal Sea Foods..("No no, non è voi, esso è io, sono omosessuale!")

The less said about my forays into Arabic (sounds hot..a bitch to read though) and Hebrew (sounds like me gargling and spitting), the better. My forays into Finnish, Russian and Yiddish remain confined to the basic vocabularies and learning wildly inappropriate songs..

And now back to translating into Chinese. How does one say "Java script modulator" in Chinese? I wish I were dead!

Current music:
Hai Hai - The Punjabi Hit Squad

Please don't judge me..but I love this song.

It's a small world after all...

2005-12-04T22:44:00.000-08:00

I've had way to many coincidences and deja vus and stuff like that in my life to dismiss it just like that (Or JLT...one of the many abbreviations I tend to use..LOLZ would be another one). The world is a tiny place when it comes to people who I've met/known/encountered meeting/knowing/encountering me again. Or should that be re-meeting, re-knowing and re-encountering (r'encountering?)?

Case in point: Last night. Crossing a very crowded Hill Road heading into Globus where Frenchie S. (hereafter to be known as Frenchie) wanted to go shopping for Indian ethnic wear. I was along cause it was the weekend and my life being what it is, I was either stuck reading the History of Texas for the umpteenth time or hanging out with someone I think is interesting but uninterested in me. I clearly chose the more painful of the two (For more proof of my masochistic leanings, refer to the post on expat parties). On went my tight Superman Tshirt (also known as my lucky Tshirt .. seeing as I tend to win stuff when I wear it. Last count? First place at 2 quizzes, 6 women's phone numbers, 3 drinks and a couple of winks from assorted rickshaw-waalas) and tighter jeans (though that had something to do with the fact that there's *now* some junk in the trunk).

Struggled through a conversation in Franglais when unexpectedly Frenchie asks me if I know P.- this movie maker guy. Yes, I say, how do you know him? Well, apparently Frenchie is dating P. How do I know P.? Well, I had the hugest crush on him and went out with him once on a dinner and conversation date. A date that was awesome by both accounts. A date that never led to anything else cause most men (Pointing very pointedly at P.) don't call back. Anyway, I've had this on-again, off-again smiling- flirtateously at P. thing going on and now he's dating someone else I have an on-again, off-again, smiling-flirtateous thing. Hmm. And apparently they talked about me and dating me on their date. WTF? How weird is that! So make that P. - Me - Frenchie. It's a small world after all...

Another coincidence? Actually another 3-4 coincidences..all involving me bumping into people from my past walking along the streets in New York. Walking along 5th Avenue and running into someone I knew when we were kids. I'm window shopping when I hear someone call out my name. I turned around but had no idea who the (kinda hot) guy standing there was..until he refreshed my memory with tales of us playing chor police and dabba i-spice when we were 10. "Ah! Now I remember!" I say.."Wanna have a coffee and reminisce?". "I'd love to" he replies, "But my girlfriend is meeting..." *Stops talking as he realizes I've lost interest after he mentions a girlfriend.*

And the best one of it all....coming back to Bombay on one of my ghar aaja pardesi tera des bulaye re visits. Walking down looking for my gate at Frankfurt airport trying hard to avoid the smokers and testing out my knowledge of basic German while deciphering the phone booth...when suddenly I hear a distinct Marathi accented voice calling out to me. It turns out to be S., my best friend in Grad school in Virginia who I'd lost touch with after I moved to Boston..someone I hadn't seen in almost 5 years! And who looked EXACTLY the same. Right down to the "bob-cut" and 50 inch hips. "Haylo" She says, "Remaimbarr me?" After that it was all what-are-you-upto and whatever-happened-to for the next 10 hours as we managed to scam a couple of Telegu guys out of the seat next to us so we could sit together and make fun of the efficient German flight attendants.

These are just 3 of the weird "it's a small world" type things that have happened to me so far. Is it just me? Or do these happen to other people as well with the same frequency? So far, it's just been friends. I'm dreading the day I run into an ex .. and G-d forbid, an ex with someone else I know! I better plan for that (I have some leeway I think seeing as all my ex's live in Ammrikka...perhaps I should just steer clear of the Eastern Seaboard for a while...)

Current Music:
Shake that thing - Sean Paul

And yes, I *am* shaking that thing. Frenchie's roommate taught me how to do the African ass-shaking....and now I can! It gives me a terrible back ache though! The things we do for attention eh?

Tastes vary, don't they?

2005-11-27T21:37:00.000-08:00

I was talking to a blog reader (Should I say friend? But I don't really know him well enough for that!) and he was commenting on the fact that he hadn't heard of any of the bands/people on my music list in my profile. Apparently, he even tried looking for them on KaZaa and I-Mesh and couldn't find any (Though he did find lots and lots of porn...I think he's going to be MIA for a while now). Which led me to wonder...does a person who doesn't like the conventional (in music and otherwise) stand a chance of surviving in Bombay unless he's willing to be alone in his tastes and choices (ooh! The sub-text here is killing me!)?

Here's some of the musical genres I enjoy and almost exclusively listen to. I would recommend any (if not all of them) to anyone. Who knows you actually might like them. I know I've gotten a few friends in Boston addicted to Arabic music while I was there and M. loves the Russian folk I got him listening to...

1. Fado: Fado is the language of love, loss and longing. To hear a fadista sing of her love lost on a fishing trip to the Azores and how she's doomed to die longing for his embraces is mindblowing. I just close my eyes, imagine I'm on a beach somewhere on the Algrave, turn on some Amalia and relax. I don't speak Portuguese but the sounds, the pain, the music, the long drawn out sighs just put you in that frame of mind. The best Fado is in the Coimbra dialect of north-central Portugal. Among my favourites are "Povo que lavas no rio" and "Barco negro". As for fadistas? There's only ONE! Amalia Rodrigues...Somente Amalia!

2. Scando-folk: Specifically Finnish folk. Ever since I heard Varttina sing "Pihi Neito" in that rapid-fire stacatto method of Karelian Finno-Ugric folk, I have been addicted to this brand of music. I ended up buying everyone of their CDs (and they have been quite prolific), and ended up having the biggest crush on Sirpa Reiman and Sari Kaasinen when I saw them perform live in NYC (Bjork and Varttina on the same bill, I almost creamed my pants in excitement!). My favourite part about singing all my favourite Finnish songs is not the fact that I can actually sing in Finnish, it's that in translation the words are just super-funny coming out of an Indian mouth. Recommended albums? Vihma and Seleniko.

3. German hiphop: Thank you D. for introducing me to the genre after your trip to Stuttgart. My previous exposure to German music was Nena, Falco and Rammstein. Now I have Fettes Brot, Die Fantastichen Vier and EAV to enjoy and love. German sounds gross when you speak it, sounds worse when you sing it (Wagner's Parsifal is a pain on the ears to listen to). But it IS the language of hiphop. Somehow even those crazy 300 syllable words ("Herzkreislaufwiederbelebung" and "Geschwendigkeitsbegrenzung") have a rhyme when you rap them..and Das Tobi und Das Bo are the best at doing that. Recommended songs? M.F.G and Nordisch bei Nature.

4. Arabic pop: Blogged about previously here.

5. Negro spirituals: I. introduced these to me when we were dating. I remember having heard the songs but I had never ever heard them the way they were meant to be sung. He made me a mix tape of singers from the 1920's onwards singing the most unbelievable beautiful hymns and songs (some were actually more protest songs than hymns). Big Mama Thornton, Mahalia Jackson, Marion Anderson...so many names, so many soaring, hope-filled, devoted voices. I have yet to hear more passion for G-d than in the voices of the ol'time religion singers. My favourite spirituals have got to be any version of "Amazing Grace"(including an unbelievable version by Ani diFranco) and "Lily of the Valley".

6. Polynesian: I first heard some Micronesian singers perform at a street fair in Boston and was blown away at how foot-tapping their music was. I just had to find some of that kind and so headed out to Harvard Square to my favourite used music store where I was sure they'd have some. Sure enough I found the music of Hawaiian singer Israel Kamakawiwo'Ole along with some awesome Polynesian bands. While Israel "Iz" sings more contemporary songs in English and Hawaiian, the other groups sing in various Polynesian languages. Recommended songs? "Pate Pate" and "Ika Ika". (I can sing Pate Pate LOL! Got the lyrics of a friend of mine from Guam)

7. Russian (Slavic): Blogged about previously here.

8. Eastern Orthodox liturgial: Seeing as I'm almost Slavic with my depression, my love for pierozhki and vodka and my propensity for falling in love with Slavs, the logical thing to do would be to start visiting the Ortho churches in Boston and Watertown. Where I discovered Church Slavonic and the awesome music. To hear and watch the bearded priests (looking very Old Testament like in their finery) sing the "Kyrie Eleison" and watch the congregation perform some very painful looking genuflections during the "Gospodi Pomily" is indeed mindblowing. Recommend the Metropolitian Choir of Kiev for some fine masses.

There are so many more genres I love but haven't written about...Borscht belt Yiddish (The Barry Sisters bei mir bist das schoen!!), Greek pop (Despina Vandi and Anna Vissi), Italian saccharine-sweet pop (Eros Ramazotti, Paolo Conti), Carnatic fusion (The soundtrack to Morning Raga).

My hope is to host a radio show with samples of these genres on Bombay's FM. Have proposed the idea to Magic and Go. Let's see if they think people in Bombay are ready to expand their horizons beyond "Neal and Nikki" and "Kajra Re".

Current Music:
None.

I'm just trying to say this German word out. It means Beef Labelling Oversight Transit Law.
"Rindfleischetikettierungsüber-
wachungsaufgabenübertragungsgesetz"

For M. (Who I remembered last night)

2005-11-26T02:48:00.000-08:00

In Despair

He's lost him completely. And he now tries to find
his lips in the lips of each new lover,
he tries in the embrace of each new lover
to convince himself that it's the same young man,
that it's to him he gives himself.

He's lost him completely, as though he never existed.
He wanted, his lover said, to save himself
from the tainted, sick form of sexual pleasure,
the tainted, shameful form of sexual pleasure.
There was still time, he said, to save himself.

He's lost him completely, as though he never existed.
Through fantasy, through hallucination,
he tries to find his lips in the lips of other young men,
he longs to feel his kind of love once more.

- Konstantinos P. Kavafy (1923)

Rock on Bandra!

2005-11-24T23:04:00.000-08:00

Celebrate Bandra! The hoardings all over the Queen of the 'burbs proclaim. Right next to the "Beanbags" and "K2" grafitti all over the place..not to mention the "Jehovah is my Lord" crap all over the Carter Road walls. We know Bandra is relatively affluent by the hoardings for carpet cleaning and dog grooming. We know Bandraites care for the burb by the signs for "Strictly no garbage dumping" and we know they have a sense of humour by the board outside St. Andrew's church which said "If you want to hear God laugh, tell him your plans".

Now we're being told to celebrate Bandra...to which I say "Huh?". I've been doing that ever since I was born! I shop in Bandra, eat in Bandra, live in Bandra, studied in Bandra..and dammit, even vote for Bandraites! You can't get any more Bandra Boy than me (men). My interview on CNBC Aawaz where I extolled the virtues of Harry Potter in Bandra Aunty Hindi proved to my friends that I am indeed a lost cause (if you seek to convert me into a Lokhandwalla or Hiranandani type..). As I was telling my Catholic-Atheist-but-not-from-Bandra friend Ook last night, my lingo can prove very confusing to a non-native Bandraite and almost totally incomprehensible to a non-Bombayite.

(Sunday morning 6 am at Jude's bakery at Pali Market)
Jude/Alex/Micheal/Andre/Glen/Robert/Peter/Sean/Derek - What you want men?
Me - Give 2 ladi pao, 1 gutli and 3 brun men. And give fast fast.

(and it's not just me..Vikster's Amma at Pali Market Saturday afternoon)
Ramprasad/Ramdulare/RamBahrose/LaxmanPrasad - Kya chahiye Mummy?
Vikster's Amma - 1 kilo batata and give 5 Rs. ka masala aur chillies less mat dena.

Anyway, to get back to the topic, Celebrate Bandra is an attempt to showcase the best of Bandra's talents/arts/food/shopping in one 21 days festival centered (weirdly enough) on the 3 sea front promenades of Reclamation, Carter and Bandstand. Why they don't want to showcase the old houses of Old Bandra and the villages of Pali, Chuim, Chimbai and Shirley-Rajan before they disappear under the builder's maw, I will never know. But hey, one takes what one gets, no? So I toodled off to Bandstand last night to watch the best of Bandra's young rock talent last night with Ook. I had high hopes..after all, the previous show I watched was this AWESOME French blues band at the old Bandra fort.

This is what I learnt last night:
1. There are no Hindus/Muslims/Sikhs/Parsees/others in Bandra's bands (Or among Bandra's famous denizens according to the brochure for the festival). A steady procession of Nicks, Joshuas, Rachels, Wendells, Ians, Joes ensured that the rock concert turned more into an audition for getting into Willingdon Catholic gymkhana....

2. There are a myriad ways to massacre the most awesome songs. To hear Zombie, Take on Me and Higher croaked, squeaked and growled by the lead "vocalists" proved to be a bit too much for me.

3. I hate Creed and its non-offensive Christian rock and I will continue to hate it.

4. Audiences at IIT's Mood Indigo concerts are metal heads, pot smokers and the general unwashed masses. At Celebrate Bandra? Aunties, Uncles and the odd Burkha-clad shadow. And I'm serious about the aunties and uncles. Some of them looked like they'd just stepped out of Bandra Gymkhana or the PJ club after the evening Housie game...

5. The drummers in Bandra are mostly good, the guitarists (if they try not to show off) are good as well. The vocalists on the other hand? Destined to sing "I will always love you" at McRonnell's at Ian's and Shaila's wedding.

6. Since when did Karaoke become de rigeur at a "rock concert"? Cause that's what a lot of the songs ended up being. Including singing off lyric sheets...Sheesh! I wish I had a drink in my hand when I was listening to them "sing". Or a joint as I sat on the rocks right next to the sea and the promenade..

7. The odd Punjabi'ism does creep into Bandra lingo as evidenced by the lead singer asking the assorted bunch of people (Average age: 55) if they were impressed by "his bums". I scuttled away before he could mention "Hallo dear" and "Beta, what work you do?".

After my big musical disappointment, I'm relieved to see that over 200 retailers are giving between 10 and 25 % discounts on everything from salon visits to shoes to Koliwada fish frys. I'm thinking of celebrating this 400 year old suburb by splurging till my credit card loses it's magnetized strip. Or I exhaust my bank balance (I think I still have about 657 Rs. to spare this month).

Till then, I leave you with my favourite quote about my favourite part of Bombay.
"If you throw a stone in Bandra, you hit either a pig, a priest or a Pereira".

Current Music:
Ode to my family -The Cranberries.

I had to find my faith in music again after the horror that was assorted Bandra teens trying to sound like Dolores O'Riordan. She rulez.

I have a new love!

2005-11-23T20:44:00.000-08:00

His name is Stanislav Ivaneski. But he plays Viktor Krum in Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. People who know me know what a maniac I am about all things Potter. I blogged about it here some time ago when the new book (well, it's sorta old once you read it about 20 times like I have) came out. While I've always though that the Prisoner of Azkaban was the best book of the lot (and also the best movie so far..Cuaron is a genius), I've always been curious how Mike Newell (Director, HPGOF) would handle what I thought was the most tedious book of the lot. And that's saying a lot, seeing as I think the Chamber of Secrets was a real stinker!

Well, here's my feelings on this movie. As usual, I walked out of the movie with mixed feelings. I hate how the movies constrain my imagination as to what I visualized the characters to be. I hate every one of the main three - Harry, Ron and Hermione. I think the books make them out to be far more interesting and multi-faceted compared to the one-track act that Messers Radcliffe, Grint and Watson enact. I find the supporting cast so much more interesting in the movies..It's got to have something to do with the fact that the producers get the who's who of British cinema to act in the movies. And the aerial shots of Hogwarts get so old after a while..

The three tasks were VASTLY more entertaining in the book as compared to the movie. I found myself waiting for the stupid tasks to finish so that the plot could plod along. And somehow, deleting vast portions of the plot and book made the whole movie so disjointed and weird. I could hear people who hadn't read the book but were watching the movie totally at sea about what the hell was happening with Crouch and Moody. And Voldemort! Finally a vision of what the Dark Lord looked like. And for once I wasn't disappointd. He was almost EXACTLY what I'd imagined he'd be like. Though I always assumed he'd have red slits for eyes..but maybe I was confusing him with Sauron from LOTR. Ralph Fiennes (It's pronounced Rafe just like my first name is spelt Vikster and pronounced Incredible) is really good at this. He gives Voldemort that awesome blend of cruelty and an upper-class British educated accent. I wanna have one of those accents for a while. Perhaps I'll walk about talking like a posh toff all day today.

OK. Major quib time. Cho Chang has a Scottish brogue? Parvati and Padma wearing ghagra cholis to the Yule Ball? So many black kids at Hogwarts? When did they become so inclusive? Movies 1 and 2 would have us believe only white kids got into Hogwarts! Angelina, the Chaser is black? WHERE WERE SNAPE'S LINES??? He's only my favourite character in the books! And I HATE the new Dumbledore. WTF is up with the American accent slipping out occasionlly?

Anyway, here's another picture of Krum. He's hot, Slav and buff. What more do I want? (What is it with me and Slavs? All my boyfriends have been Slav! Sadly Bombay is terribly short of the Slavic variety...methinks a trip to Serbia or Russia is in order!) There's this scene of Krum in a pair of short shorts running along the lake....SIGH! Unbelievable!

Current Music:
Narodno Kolo - Saban Saulic

I'm so into a Serbian music mood today. No matter what M. and Nesha claim, Serbian techo-folk sounds good to me! OK, So I don't understand the uber-nationalistic lyrics that make the two of them so uncomfortable, but the beat is so much fun! Kinda puts a nice tune to Balkan ethnic cleansing..

An evening chez expats

2005-11-20T23:09:00.000-08:00

So S. (le juif francais) called up and wanted to go out for dinner and then to a party for some expat friends who were leaving Bombay to go back to their respective countries. I said yes because I had nothing else to do than have dinner with someone who claims to find me cute but is equally repulsed by my intelligence and lack of I'm-just-looking-for-a-casual-fuck 'ness. And Saturday nights watching NDTV's breaking news about what Monica Bedi wore to her interrogation pale in comparison to going to a party where I knew NOBODY.

So off I toodle off to Pot Pourri where I discuss Paris riots and my life with M. to someone who compliments me on looking like the cutest person at the restaurant (not surprising seeing as the only other people there were a huge Sindhi family and a couple of wannabe models - all bonded hair and pouts) and in the same breath asks me if I have any friends I want to pass off for a quick fuck. Honestly, I'm such a masochist. Every breath in me screams to me that I'm worth more than this but the sheer lack of anything else to occupy my time makes me sit through conversations like this and grin through it all. Though the non-date'ish conversations with S. are actually fun. Not that this was a date by the way. It has been made amply clear to me that I'm only friend-worthy and not fuck-worthy (I'd say sponge-worthy but not sure how many non-Seinfeld'ians will get that).

Then off we go to this expat party thing. In a HUGE apartment off Linking Road in Bandra. To someone who grew up in a 400 sq. foot house, the sheer luxury of 3 bedrooms and an open terrace is like paradise (You may keep your 72 virgins, my paradise is an apartment with a room to myself...and all the Thums Up I can drink). The house was unbelievably beautiful, the furniture was contemporary and the open kitchen was a dream come true (The appliances! Did I mention the appliances!!). It almost felt like I was stepping into one of those Brookline condos I used to go check out on Sunday mornings when I lived in Boston..except this was in des!

Most of the expats there were European..I mean almost all of them. Couple of Americans (I just realized how much I missed hearing a real, honest-to-God Boston accent) there but most were French with a couple of Belgians, Dutch and Norwegians (Or is that Norse?). Lingua france there? French. Even the few desis there spoke French. As did I ... sounding like a mildly retarded Quebecois. Seriously, listening to a question in rapid-fire French, translating it into English in your head, processing it, translating back and then trying to be gramatically correct in French? All in 10 seconds? It's hard! Hence the pitying looks I got when I uttered such gems as (En anglais) "Yes. I lives here in Bandra many years since my house is here" and "I am in Boston for 8 years and I am happy to be in Bombay now" and "But yes! I am liking the wine much and am drinking it everyday with many peoples". But honestly, my franglais paled in comparison to the Hindi most of them have picked up in months of living in Bombay. Sample this : "Seedha" (Straight), "Gadha" (Donkey), "Kitna" How much?, "Bahut khush" Very happy.

Now tell me who sounds more retarded?

But the music was good (Arabic/French and Euro house), the hosts were awesome (made me feel like they knew me all their lives) and I felt very very much in need of some Fair and Handsome. I'm wheatish (that deliciously quaint desi word to mean I'm marriagable) but in front of assorted Teutons and Franks, I'm positively brown. Not the light-brown Bournvita colour, more like the Cafe Coffee Day Mocha with the dark rich chocolate veins running through it. I had a mild crisis when I wondered who would marry me since I was so dark and ugly.. and then I realized I was gay. The Government won't let me marry the man I love and the man I love doesn't want me anyway. Hooray!

*rubs fairness cream into cheeks*

The differences between all-desi parties and all-firang ones?
Desi party: Samosas, chips, pani puri, assorted farsan, coke/pepsi/etc., beer
Firang party: Vodka

Desi party: Women in tight tops, short skirts and impossibly high heels
Firang party: Women in salwar kameez and bindis.

Desi party: Gossip and bitching
Firang party: Inconsequential talk while all the time picturing other person naked in bed.

Desi party: Party games (shudder!)
Firang party: Bring out the hash and weed and life is a party!

Desi party: Everyone macks on the single firang who wandered in
Firang party: The desis are there to answer questions about India

But all in all, thanks to some very gracious hosts and some very nice people I met (all from the French Trade Commission..man! they're friendly!), I actually had a pretty good Saturday night. Drank some wine, boogied to Abdel Khader and Alabina and walked home alone while some drunk in a car yelled out "Woohoo! Sexy man!" at me.

Good times!

Current Music:
Laissez-moi danser - Dalida

This would be the quintessential drag queen song. Oh wait! It IS the quintessential drag queen song beating out such hits as "Thank you for the music" by Abba and "It's raining men".

Miss Manners! We need you!

2005-11-18T00:33:00.000-08:00

So I'm going to go all Bree van der Kamp on the collective asses of every little spoilt brat/bitch who lives in Bombay but seems to infest Bandra with scary regularity. As a well brought up guy, I know how to treat people. Superior or inferior in class status (Oh! Don't you long for the pre-British days when we only oppressed people based on their birth and not economic status?). I have had it up to my (aquiline, slender, well-shaped) nose with the collective shenanigans of the Buntys and Rockys and Tanias and Anaitas of Bombay.

When did it become such a cool thing to abuse people in the service industry? Have I become sensitized to their feelings on account of living in America where every little thing is a "Yes please!" and "Have a nice day"? I used to notice it when I was younger..but thanks to my parents I never really became what I detest today in Bombay's people. We are a rude rude people. And we treat our menials (PC police! Please maaf this, I'm running out of synonyms for service-type people) like dirt. Not only are we rude by birth, but the rise in living standards and money we earn has been compensated by a sharp fall in civility and manners.

Case in point: Andorra's last night in Bandra. I stop by to get a burger while I'm pushed aside by Bunty McMuscles and his friend Rocky O'Smallpenis. "Give two burgers here" they demand. Not ask, not request, certainly not solicit. "Put more Schezwan sauce" they demand again "And hurry man, I'm hungry" they yell at the server who's trying his best to deal with 10 very hungry Bandraites. That done, they grab their burgers, fling (YES! fling!) their money at the server and leave, chomping even before they turn around (and with their mouth open too...Ugh!). No apologies for cutting in line, no sorrys to the aunties who haven't been able to be heard over their din, no smiles of sheepishness towards people who they shoved out of the way to get to the counter.

Case 2: How we treat people we employ. We are also incredibly lazy. In the last week, I've seen people call their servants out of another room to come over and hand them their phone (which was lying...3 feet away!). I've witnessed people interrupting their servant from his lunch so he can get up and get them a glass of water. Noticed them making fun of and talking about their servants IN FRONT of them as if they didn't even exist.

Case 3: A young boy calls his father a bastard for not buying him a toy at Shopper's Stop while I'm browsing the board game section. If I ever did that EVER, I'd have my teeth handed to me on a platter made up of my tightly stretched flayed skin. His father's response? "Sorry beta, I'll go to the ATM and get money for it". And as he's doing that, his son proceeds to throw a tantrum and beat his mother about her legs while she very calmly continues to shop. This is WHY people should have to take a class before bringing children into this world. ESPECIALLY the yuppie parents (the kinds whose kids names are Aryan and Michelle).

The more money we make, the more breeding we lose. Look at the Mafatlal family saga? Worth 10,000 crores Rs. and want to throw the 75 year old mother and the (decidedly bull dyke looking) sex-changed brother out onto the street. Witness the antics of the dime-a-dozen model fraternity who snort coke in posh clubs and smoke ciggies by the dozen while claiming to be good role models for children. Or the rich kids who drive Mercs at 16 and run over pedestrians while they drive drunk and then get out of it by blaming their drivers.

I'm DISGUSTED by the behaviour of Bombayites today. And by that, I mean mostly the young generation. MY generation. We have forgotten our values, our behaviour, our manners in the rush to show off our riches. It's times like these that I'm glad I'm middle-class and close to my family. Looking at the 12 year olds at Coffee Day behave with their Motorola mobiles and gelled-streaked hair and fake accents prancing around makes me so glad I was never exposed to that sort of lifestyle at that young an age.

If I ever see someone order around someone again just because of his social position again, I swear I'm going to force him to stand there and apologize. I'm that mad today.

Current Music:
Piya Haji Ali - Fiza Soundtrack

I find myself humming this when I pass Worli/Haji Ali on my long bus rides to town on weekends...I only wish I could reach the high pitches these qawwaals manage. I suppose I can't as long as I have a pair of cojones...

An evening with Shashi Aunty (Meenu's post)

2005-11-16T22:59:00.000-08:00

Last night, along with my adorable fiancé A., I was able to go to the world-wide premiere of Akbar Khan’s Taj Mahal- An Epic Love Story. A. is a budding film (fillum) star waiting for his big break in Hindi films. He had been cast in the role of a messenger and had approximately two or three lines. Being the devoted fiancé and star-struck NRI that I am, I was quite jazzed to go to the premiere. I dressed in a sexy black dress, puffed my hair and pouted my lips- who knows, maybe I would be ‘discovered’. Kidding. Kind of.

Before we arrived at IMAX Wadala, I told A. that there will be some ginormous mausoleum version of the Taj there. Of course, there it was, looking worse than my 7^th grade world history project (in which we made the replica of the Taj out of three refrigerator boxes). They had some dudes dressed up in armour, while the ladies looked like they belonged in a Meena Bazaar or maybe Chor Bazaar.

We walked in on Kabir Bedi giving an interview with his daughter, the ever-drag-queen-esque, Pooja Bedi to Zoom TV’s Suchitra Pillai. And as we walked in the other stars begin to arrive: Randhir Kapoor, Shotgun Sinha + Wifey, Pooja Batra (gorgeous), Kim Sharma (hello Roswell), Akbar Khan, and random tall dudes with beards and scruffage. We schmoozed for a while downstairs and saw Meera (of Nazaar de-fame) and my eyes set upon the funniest woman I have seen in movies- Shashi Aunty (i.e. Kamini Aunty of Monsoon Wedding, Kal Ho Na Ho, and other moti-jolly aunty parts).

For those who know my and the Vikster’s fascination with Shashi Aunty will recall lines like the unforgettable “Aaj mera gala kharab hai”. And “Mere bete nu duffer bolday ho? Onjvi, he doesn’t know India”. Therefore, it was a great gift to run into her. Well, much to A.’s dismay (I think), we spent the rest of the evening with her. She was getting pissed because the premiere was 2 hours late with no sign of starting anytime soon. She kept fanning herself and passing comments about people walking by (Vikster: That is SO Shashi Aunty!)

"Oh god, I am getting claustrophobic”.

“Even the director looks lost here”.

“I don’t want to sit now because I have to sit for another bloody 3 hours”

“Where is the lift, I am scared of the escalator”

“Should we get some cocktails?”

“That Kabir Bedi can drink anyone under the table.”

Then we looked over and Zulfi Syed had officially arrived with his co-star- Shahwar Ali, um, I mean Sonia Jehan. Wow, this woman is gorgeous. They have a total role reversal thing going. Sonia looks manlier than Zulfi any day. Zulfi, by the way was looking amazingly well for someone who’s car had just flipped on the way from Pune 5 days ago. Slightly suspect.

Anyways, after them came the slew of the Khans of the Industry. Zayed walked in with jeans and a white jacket with sparkling white shoes (Kab tak safaid rehe ga?). Arbaaz Khan with son and Malaika Arora Khan (she is bootylicious like J-Lo!), a pregnant and cute Suzanne Roshan, Amrita Arora with cricketer boyfriend, and Sanjay and Feroz (looking quite stiff!), and various other Khan-danis I did not recognize.

FINALLY, at around 9.15pm the magnum opus begins. We start with when Aurangzeb is about to kill his brothers for the right to be Shahen Shah. Arbaaz Khan does a decent job, but his fake mole is too distracting. Kabir Bedi and Manisha Koirala start off and then the flashback begins. I admire this guy’s effort, but he really used some cheesy computer effects that took away from the timelessness of the piece. Also, I believe there were some historical liberties taken (who doesn’t in Bollywood?). I really thought Pooja Batra did a fantastic job as Noor Jahan- but was she really getting hot and heavy with Mahabat Khan, the advisor and betrayer? Maybe you historical buffs can help a sister out. Kim Sharma really overdid it, the acting that is. She really looks like an alien and I can’t stop thinking about it. Also, even in her ‘classical Urdu’ she sounds like she is talking to that guy from Mohabattein.

Sonia encapsulates a classical beauty that you don’t see in many actresses these days, so I think she might have a hard time breaking into the current genre of anorexic babes who aren’t really that interesting. Also, she maybe a little butch for some of the more feminine male co-stars out there. Speaking of masculine/feminine, Bobby Darling also did an appearance there and had a teeny-tiny role in the film. By the way, Nigar Khan the Deported made a cameo as the Queen of Iran and DAMN is she nasty! Sorry to be critical, but I had to avert eyes immediately when there was a love scene between her and Zulfi. I am sure Shahwar Ali was jealous. It looked like gay porn. Not that I’ve seen that many. It was really bad; someone should tell her she looks like a duck. (Vikster: I wouldn't mind seeing Zulfi and Shahwar in some gay porn..I've already seen them making out at Out of the Blue)

By the end, we realized A.’s role was cut out. He said that was ok, since it might flop; but I am sure he was a bit disappointed, I know I was. My man is a good actor!

Anyways, Shashi Aunty’s part came before the interval so she left for home in Powai. The movie finally ended at 12.15am and A. and I headed home to thaw ourselves. Although the magnum opus is truly nothing in front of the old “Taj Mahal” or “Mughal-E-Azam”, I will always remember my night with Shashi Aunty. Oh, and I got her to give an autograph for my Vikster.

Onjvi, we are fraaands, no?

(Vikster: OMG! Meenu! Best gift EVER! Next time? Pack me the delish Aussie cousin played by Randeep Hooda to go!)

Cheers sweetie!

2005-11-15T22:10:00.000-08:00

"New York will never be the same after Seven-Eleven"
"Huh?"
"I meant..Twenty four-Seven"
"MUM! Nine-Eleven!"
"I knew that..Nine-Eleven sweetie, I knew that!"

Just one of the many many incredibly funny lines from my favourite TV show in the world. ONe for which I would wake up at 3 am (and have!). I've even had a marathon viewing (24 hours) non-stop..including repeats and behind-the-scenes stuff. The show? Absolutely Fabulous starring Jennifer Saunders and Joanna Lumley.

Any show that has lines like these deserves my entire viewing pleasure and respect: "Why, oh why, do we pay taxes, um? I mean, just to have bloody parking restrictions and buggery-ugly traffic wardens, and bollocky-pedestrian-bloody-crossings, and those bastard railings outside shops, so you can't even get in them? I mean, I know they are there to stop stupid people running into the street and killing themselves, but we're not all stupid, we don't all need nursemaiding. I mean, why not just have a 'Stupidity Tax', just tax the stupid people!"

I fell in love with this show after watching it on Comedy Central as just another BritCom (people who know me will remember my BritCom craze and my mania for quoting everyone from Mrs. Slocum to Basil Fawlty and Father Ted). Then I discovered just how awesome this show really is..the writing is incredibly witty (Are British people born with a rapier-sharp wit and fantastic bloddy accents?), the acting is...bloody fabulous..and the two main actors? Oy vey!

Joanna Lumley as Patsy Stone (Pats!) is EVERY gay man's idea of what is an ideal woman. She's a fashionista ("Sweetie, you can never go wrong with gloves, shoes or hats"), incredibly bitchy ("Eddy, your stomach's just like a dog waiting to be fed - it just hangs there until you want to kick it) and horny as heck ("Oh, he was just a windscreen washer I picked up at the traffic lights. Buns so tight he was bouncing off the walls."). Plus her drug and booze habit (She hasn't eaten since 1973 .. though she did eat a crisp in one episode and a bit of turkey in the Christmas one). Oh man, the number of Patsy clones I've seen at Pride parades in Boston is insane!

Jennifer Sanders as Edina Monsoon (Eddy!) is my favourite ever for the hundreds of lines she's provided me to quote for almost every occasion. She runs a PR agency ("What do I do sweetie? Well, I PR things dahling!"), has abominable taste in clothes with a love for Lacroix who she worships and needs to be up to date with EVERY single fad that's current in celebrity-land ("Who wouldn't put up with some slight crystallization in the lower abdomen and a not entirely unpleasant trickling sensation for THAT amount of cleavage?").

This is one of the few things I can watch on telly that is guarenteed to make me guffaw and forget my woes. Which is why I never go too far from my AbFab DVDs. I love you Pats and Eddy!

Current Music:
Sweet Dreams of you - Patsy Kline

To honor the other Patsy, this song. Patsy Kline is probably one of my favourite singers of all time. And her songs are just so incredible in the amount of feelings they convey and can bring out. Feelings I'm feeling right now just hearing the lines....
"Sweet dreams of you
Things I know can't come true
Why can't I forget the past, start loving someone new
Instead of having sweet dreams about you"

Too disorganized to think clearly!

2005-11-14T02:16:00.000-08:00

I'm all over the place today. I think I dropped about a million things this morning cause I'm wicked pre-occupied with weird shit. Some work. Mostly weird shit. Like wondering why processed cheese is so vile but so good in a grilled sandwitch. Or why my back aches when I haven't done any manual labour for ... umm.. years? Or how to respond or even think to a very strange comment to my blog?

Anyway, lest I proceed to bore you, let me tell you about the most productive thing I did today (well, excluding work where I seem to have excelled this morning! And no, that's just a lousy pun on all the stupid Excel spreadsheets I updated). I started a BOOK CLUB! It's also a movie club (since I dunno how many will join my club if I mention books..). The link is (mark it down children!) http://pseudcorner.blogspot.com

Our first book is Vikram Seth's "Two Lives". Read it and comment about it or review it in a new post. Just join the blog (some weird funda about having to become a memeber of my blog circle should follow here..but I have no idea how it works) and write away. I promise not to censor (just moderate for gross obscenity).

And if you have any issues with someone's reviews please feel free to comment on that particular post.

I started this because I seem to know quite a few people who enjoy reading and talking about books. Now Bombay being Bombay, it's hard to co-ordinate a time for us all to meet over coffee and chat about a book. Ergo, online seems the way to go. I hope this experiment works out (and hope y'all do your part by publicizing the book club blog!).

We can also try recommending movies as well..for those of us who don't read. I recommend Francois Ozon's "8 Women" (Huit femmes). It's one of my favourites..a film set in the 1950's, filmed like a play on a set, set to Bollywood type song and dance routines..and starring the who's who (or the Who's that if you don't like la cinema francaise) of French cinema...Catherine Deneuve, Isabelle Huppert, Fanny Ardant..

Anyway, I do hope you guys will try this experiment out. I don't want this to follow my long list of failed experiments....heterosexuality, love, yams, veggie food...

Current Music:
The Requiem Mass (Kyrie Eleison) - Mozart

The first time I heard this performed live at Harvard's Sanders theatre, I cried. It is one of the most powerful vocal performances methinks..followed very closely by the Hallelujah chorus by Handel..

But seriously??

2005-11-11T03:05:00.000-08:00

This was supposed to be a serious post on the Bombay North-West constituency and what I want to see our elected MP do for us (since we have a by-election next week). About half-way through I realized no one cared anyway (even though I do a lot ... no one else my age seems to really care about politics and how it impacts our daily lives .. somehow the new Motorola phone or who's sleeping with whom is far more interesting).

I'm also in an insanely weird mood right now. Laughing like a silly boy over the hate comment to my previous post. And groaning cause I just ate two lunches (one a Babitaji special and then a 12 inch sub from SubWay where I met my old "friend/enemy/muah-muah-we-must-do-this-again" Page 3 lady) and am contemplating eating another grilled cheese sandwitch. WHAT has happened to the famous Vikster self-control? I like this side of me. Before M. the breakup blues lasted 3 months and involved me sitting in bed under a down comforter watching AbFab and Sex and the City reruns and eating tubs of Haagen Dasz (strawberry..yumm!). This one has me eating pretty much everything in sight! Whoa!

Ergo, since I got tagged (WTF does this mean? Is this Bloggese for someone mentioned me on their blog as someone who should do this?), here's ome more niconsequential info about me that you can later use against me (in or near a court of law). Man, some of you now know me better than myself!

Seven Things I Plan To Do:

Be a better friend to my old Engg. school buddies. I have been a terrible one to them.
Win a major quiz and then blow my winnings on a REALLY expensive pair of shoes.
Finish my book (G-d! The plot development is so behind schedule!)
Get off my ass (and Amma's couch) and find a place to rent.
Buy some shares and feel important now that I'm a "professional". (NOT whore!)
Meet more fun media people and get into one of their happening parties.
Dress up (formal) to work atleast 4 times a week.

Seven Things I Can Do:

Discuss Slavic religion and history in the same breath as Angelina Jolie's lovelife.
Find my way around Bandra blind-folded.
Say "I Love You" in over 60 languages. And "I Hate You" in one.
Sing "O Sole Mio" while the Churchgate-Bandra train goes over Mahim creek.
Judge everyone according to impossibly high standards and then mope cause no one is good enough.
Make a great Spinach Lasagna and a mean Apple Martini.
Flirt.

Seven Things That I Can’t Do:

Get high. Weed doesn't do a thing to me.
Seem to hold on to a man.
Touch my toes (I used to be uber-flexible...lack of people to bend me around has hurt!)
Write poetry. I just don't get it.
Give up Internet, TV or IPOD.
Remember just why I hated someone.
Look good in a pair of tight jeans.

Seven Things I Say Most Often:

Fuckles!
Halwa kya?
Man, he's cute!
Why does this always happen to me? (Or" What have I done to deserve this?")
Nigga please! (Or to Meenu "Bitch please!")
LOL! (Or it's lesser known Paki equivalent...LOLZZ!)
Ooh yeah! That's it..uuuunnnhhhhh! (Oh! I thought this was "Least often")

Anyway, I now tag everyone who reads this post. Especially Anonymous (Duncan Hynes)! Meenu and me talk about you a lot!

Current Music:
Kaddish - Ofra Haza

One of the few Hebrew songs I know and can sing in tune. Now if only I can find a hot Israeli guy to sing it to (Probably when I'm in Goa over New year's...)

Ex-orcise!

2005-11-08T02:32:00.000-08:00

Last night was cleaning-out-my-life night.

Stood on the weighing scale after Guppie mentioned how umm..paunchy I was looking in my tight Tshirt. I didn't wanna tell him those *weren't* low rise jeans I was wearing..it's just that I've no longer got a 30 inch waist. And the only way I can get something around my neither regions is by sucking in my belly and letting the wasitband finds it's own happy level somewhere below that vast overhang that is Vikster's paunch. (OK, So my mum thinks I'm obsessing..but for someone who looked like the Allies liberated him from Dachau just the night before all my life, any slight appearance of fat on me is treated with absolute horror and disgust). Especially since I took more than 10 years to get over my skinny body self-loathing...now I have 10 more years of fat hating to do?? No fair!

Anyway, made myself a diet plan. Only an apple for lunch starting tommorrow (OK make that the day after..I succumbed to the lure of grilled cheese sandwithces this afternoon). 50 sit-ups every morning (again, to be started tommorrow...I sorta overslept this morning...). And finally, the motivation? I bought myself a pair of pants that would make a grown man weep (OK so he'd have to be a gay fashionista!). And I bought them one size too small. My goal? Fitting into my size 30 jeans again while magically transferring all that belly fat to my ass. Hmm. Achievable? NOT with Christmas around the corner and Diwali sweets all over the kitchen still!

Also planning on a major detox campaign. I just realized that maybe drinking isn't the best way to forget your sorrows...writing them on a public blog for the world to see is SO much more fun! So I'm gonna try not drinking for a month. Well, I lie. I will still drink wine but am giving up on the martinis and cosmos. As for weed, I don't think I smoke enough for an intervention yet. Seriously, 2 puffs and I don't even inhale? What a loser druggie I am!

And finally, did the email cleanup.

I realized that my way of getting over past breakups with boyfriends was to create a new email ID so I can begin again ("a new slate" for the internet savvy generation). I occasionally have the urge to go back and re-read the emails to try to read the signs I was missing that the relationship was in trouble..but usually end up shaking my head at just how amazingly naive and trusting I was.

I deleted M.'s emails last night.

Gut wrenching. Absolutely gut wrenching. Especially when I realized how many of those emails had pictures of him and me together. Or just him and his dog. Or him and Boston. Pictures were the only way we could keep in touch in our long-distance relationship. The only way I could see just how awesome my boyfriend looked and how much in love with him I was. I caught myself reading al the emails we wrote to each other. Some love letters - romantic, tender, hopeful .. some letters full of lust - eager, horny.. some plaintive, some wistful, some happy, many sad. And the crescendo building up to the day he came to Bombay to visit me. The last email sent the night before I knew I was to see him agian after months of being apart.."in 26 hours I will be in your arms again"..

The slacking of emails after that. Almost as if seeing each other again was just too painful because we both knew what we were missing. Seeing how I was establishing my life here meaning I was building a space around where he was absent. Seeing how happy I was with him and realizing how sad I would be when he would leave. I think I understand why M. had to leave me and move on. I understand but it still hurts.

I deleted M.'s emails last night. As part of my cleaning-up-my-life process. Then why do I feel like crap?

Current Music:
Ne me jugez pas - Sawt el-Atlas

These brothers from Morrocco totally wow me with their blend of Arabic rhythym and French pop. Highly recommended.

Party on Wayne!

2005-11-06T00:19:00.000-08:00

Well, I'm sitting down in one place after a very very hectic week of painting the town red (or in my case, Prussian blue - my favourite colour). This was my life this week - party, club, Diwali, club, club, club, club. And this is my wallet this Sunday afternoon....empty. And on a Sunday which I planned on spending at Strand looking for those 2 elusive James Mitchener books I need to complete my collection..Grr! Looks like I'll have to dip into the children's college fund to satisfy my retail urges today! Anyway, I've about almost given up on kids...just realized I'll need a faithful loving boyfriend first..and one knows that doesn't exist. Not in Bombay anyway.

"Where have you been going?" I hear the proles ask. Well, mostly Seijo. The music rocks, the crowd's my age or thereabouts, the women are incredibly attractive, the smoke quotient is very low and the drinks are fabu. Tried Enigma one night. Danced the night away (literally, it was dawn when I left), was sorta buzzed the whole next day (You know that weird feeling when you think you're drunk during the day...and you are?). The music was sorta dancy in a Bollywood Punju-Shunju way and the martinis did wonders for my ability to dance. Well, to dance without caring what anyone thought of me anyway.

There was a Gay Bombay party on Friday but since I'm not going there anymore, I went to Shooters with my friend and his girlfriend instead. "Why are you not going to GB anymore?" I hear the fabulous people of Bombay ask. Well, it's cause I'm tired of feeling like a non-entity. I'm exhausted trying to look sexy and interested. I'm tired of caring about what people think of me. I'm weary of trying on 3 pairs of jeans just to find one where it looks like I have an arse worth talking to. And lastly, I'm sick of being ignored - by friends, foes and prospective friends/foes alike. Thought long and hard about it and realized it was exactly one year since I started going to the parties. And also realized that NOTHING ever came outta me going there. Yeah, so I could dance to music that I wouldn't be listening to anyway and I could watch guys kissing on the dancefloor.

But I get that at ANY other club in Bombay! Why would I want to go somewhere where my chances of meeting interesting gay people is even smaller than at an ostensible *straight* club? Plus, flirting with straight men and women is SO much more fun. I've had a blast doing that all last week. It's less complicated cause everyone knows nothing will ever come out of it...unlike the same with gay men where you have to watch what you say and do cause you just might end up taking him home..

It gets patronizing too though. But it's the type that I can live with. I've had one straight male friend flirt right back and then say "It's great that we can talk because I'm OK with your type of people". Had a female friend ask me to dance close because "I feel safe with you dancing this close. I could never do this with the other guys". Another female friend asks me to go out with her and then reminds me that "My boyfriend won't mind. He knows your type". Sometimes it's easy to forget I'm a man just because I'm gay.

Patronizing attitudes from straight people who're "OK" with my lifestyle and expect me to be thankful, Attitude from gay men who don't wanna think about tommorrow and wanna just live in the present.

I just can't win, can I?

Till then, I sip my martini, help my straight men friends out with chatting up women, help my female straight friends when they need a man to dance with/lug around stuff/shop and my gay friends? Well, is there such a thing?

*prepares for barrage of comments about me being a self-loathing gay man*

I'm out, happy with being gay and comfortable in my skin. If only I knew more people here that were the same.

Current Music:
Woo Hoo - The 5 6 7 8's (Kill Bill Soundtrack)

This is one of my favourite movies in the last 5 years. Watched it about 10 times now and plan on watching it even more..

Happy Diwali (belch! groan!)

2005-11-03T21:01:00.000-08:00

Well, I suppose I should have made this post a few days ago while it was still Diwali but it's been wicked hectic chez moi this festival season..First of; Happy Diwali all...(insert chessy greeting here). Hope you had a fun festival of lights...I suppose I'm still in time to wish y'all Eid Mubarak though. Woohoo! So I got one festival right!

What does one really do on Diwali besides eat? And visit people? And burst fire crackers and wake up the dead? Pray? OK, not pray...Diwali is the hedonists festival after all...all night gambling binges, eating till you're fit to burst, setting off small fires. And the best part is, ask 10 people why we celebrate Diwali and get 10 different answers....So here's how I celebrate Diwali.

Woke up before dawn on Naraka Chaturdashi (the first day of Diwali). Amma massaged my head with some warm coconut oil...when we were younger, we'd get the full body oil treatment! The lady of the house (in this case Amma) massages everyone's head with oil and heats up the water for a pre-dawn bath. The water is supposed to have been collected the night before. The origins of this ritual are to describe how Lord Krishna's wives treated him after he came back at dawn bloody and bruised from battling Narakasura all night. After you bathe in steaming hot water with sandalwood soap (which feels so good early in the morning), as you step out of the bathroom, you crush a bitter fruit with your right foot (This symbolizes Krishna's crushing of Naraka). And then, it's time for the fireworks! Well, since I'm kind and don't wanna annoy my neighbours before dawn, I only light sparklers while Amma goes about lighting all the lamps in the house. The night before, all the lamps are lit and you leave a window open so that Lakshmi - the Goddess of Wealth feels welcome into your house. How very deliciously pagan!

And then one eats. Like there's no tommorrow. The closest thing I find to the Diwali bacchanalia (NOT "The love for Amitabh and Abhishek" but "A riotous, boisterous, or drunken festivity; a revel"), is the American Thanksgiving where you sit around stuffing your face all day and then passing out from eating too much food later in the evening. Chaklis, karanjis, laddoos, tukdi, banana chips, pedhas, kaju katri, chivda, kheer...the list is endless. Amma, like many other moms, spent all week cooking these up...of course, half of them disappeared in the days before Diwali (Midnight snacks...).

Visiting neighbours and family all day and eating everything they set in front of you seems like fun when you think about it; but in reality? Groan! I was so full of food I couldn't even fit into a pair of jeans (which seems to be the story of my life..the winter fattening has begun!). And surprise surprise! I find out that the Diwali we celebrate involves eating fish for lunch! And here I thought like other Hindus we don't eat non-vegetarian food on festivals..but no! Woohoo! I pigged out on pomfret curry and fried surmai. My two favourite fishy eats..I love fish so much. Must be the Konkani genes in me!

Anyway, I hope everyone had a happy festival season. Now it's onto Christmas and more pigging out (Thank you Bandra neighbour aunties!). Full speed ahoy!

Current Music:
Kidda - Natacha Atlas

I love the orgasmic sounds Natacha makes in this song. Most entertaining..

Vacanza? Dove? Con chi?

2005-10-28T01:51:00.000-07:00

I find myself on the eve of a Diwali vacation..3 whole days off! And if I can fineagle Eid into this equation, I get a whole week off! A whole week!! Or in my previous job in Ammrikka terms, 70% of my *yearly* vacation time. Add to that the measly 5 days or so Ammrikka allows for festival holidays and I was saving vacation time for 2-3 years to be able to make just one trip back to des (humming "Ghar aaja pardesi, tera des bulaye re" on the Lufthansa flight back). This time I find myself with the luxury of 3 days off for Diwali, 1 day off for Eid and then the weekend.

And I'm tormented. What do I do with this time off?

I tried calling up friends to find out if they wanted to go somewhere with me. Alas, I seem to have realized it's vacanza time too late. Everyone seems to have plans; ranging from time with family outta town to seminars in Delhi (blecch! You'd pick a boring seminar over me, Kate/Bob?). Prospective interests in the dating sphere begged off claiming work (!!) or the fact that they're already going somewhere with someone who was a little less chicken to ask them out. My parents don't wanna hang out with me either (my last resort? And that's gone too!). So I have a bunch of options I'm thinking. Blog readers may comment in the next 3 days and help me figure out what to do with my time.

1. Stick around in Bombay:
Pros? Don't have to bother with packing, travelling. Will be able to get table at Coffee Day at Carter's a little more easily. Can spend mucho dinero shopping on Diwali gifts for myself. Can go to Mohd. Ali Road for iftar and finally eat some haleem.
Cons? It's hot. Crackers with the noise and the smoke? Asthma central! And sans amis? Mais non!

2. Go to Ganpatipule:
Pros? Quiet, tranquil beach. Can catch up on my writing (I'd say reading, but I do too much of it already). Can relax and unwind. Lovely Ganpati temple there as well.
Cons? I'll be alone at one of the most romantic places in India. Sleeping alone in my nice AC MTDC room, wading through the surf without playfully ducking someone into the water. It's boring.

3. Go to Pune:
Pros? Big city fun at small town prices. Can catch up with the Pune guy who seemed interested in me the last time I went there. Can watch the cricket match there on the 3rd.
Cons? Pune? Come on! How is this even a vacation?

4. Go hiking in the Sahyadris:
Pros? Beautiful. The weather will be awesome as well. I love hiking and the mountains and I can get some very awesome photos this time.
Cons? Can't decide which peak to climb or which trek to do. Perhaps an Ashtavinayak? Trekking alone freaks me out ever since a couple of hikers had their throats slit about a week after I was hiking in the same area at Shenandoah in Virginia.

5. Go to Agra:
Pros? History! I'll be in seventh heaven comparing the architechtural styles of Shahjahan and Aurangzeb. The Taj!
Cons? The Taj! Will sit on the marble bench forlorn and missing M. Can't let that happen on a vacation!

6. Work:
Pros? Well, I *do* have a lot to do.
Cons? Well, I *do* have a lot to do.

Everyone got their Diwalii lights up yet? I'm putting up my *kandil* (Lantern) tonight and stringing out all the lights (which my mum calls Christmas lights...weird that this Hindu family only uses Christmas lights for Diwali). The kandil is this cloth thing (vagely Rajasthani looking ) that M. bought for me when we were holidaying in Goa. More memories..why won't they stop??

Current Music:
Rhiannon - Fleetwood Mac

Learning this song so I can sing it this Sunday night at Not Just Jazz at Karaoke night. I'll be the drunk guy also singing Abba's "Fernando" and Alannah Myles' "Black Velvet". With actions. Oh yes. Definitely with actions.

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