My First Gay Gathering - A story
I had never been to a private gay gathering ever. My friend Rajit invited me to his birthday bash at his boyfriend’s 24th floor apartment in Mahalaxmi. “There will be quite a few interesting guys”, he’d promised me. From day one I was pretty excited about it.

My initiation into the Gay life of Bombay had been last year, courtesy Rajit. We had a fling of sorts. I was a virgin from up North and he was a veteran mourning his last break-up and looking for newer pastures. I made a good lay for him, but was not boyfriend material. First of all I was too awkward most of the times; I knew more than him about most things; our age difference of almost 9 years, my “no anals” stand; so many things. But we remained in touch and he assumed the role of my guide and teacher. Lately, he had gotten too busy with his new love and we were meeting for the first time in almost two months time.

After Rajit I met a couple of other guys. My dating scene has always been sparsely populated. No one clicked to me and I clicked to no one. There was one guy who seemed to be besotted with me, but he had a wife and a girlfriend in the office. I didn’t see him having much time for me. So, cutting a long story short, this invitation was a major highlight of my gay life till then. I was too chicken to go to GB parties and similar gatherings and was becoming more and more wary of meeting people over the net. So, the prospect of a peaceful party with a few friendly guys was almost like a dream.

I prepared hard for the day. One week before the event I had my hair done at Juice. Selected a nice Sherwani style white shirt by Raghvendra Rathod and beige Rohit Bal slacks I had picked from Delhi last year. I decided against colored contact lenses but got myself nice shades. I attended a couple of Kaya skin sessions to get that glowing skin they keep advertising about. I increased my time on the treadmills and started running up and down stairs in my building.

Rajit’s boyfriend Ehsaan works with a foreign bank as Investment Banker and I was expecting a lot of suitable guys to be present at the party. I rehearsed my answers to some imaginary interesting questions asked by devastatingly handsome guys. I smiled and basked in the glory of my smart rejoinders to snide remarks from jealous guys. I prepared myself for situations like an interesting guy asking me out and another where someone undesirable asks me out. As each day passed I started feeling more and more confident about my imminent victory over the gathering. I could vividly see myself sitting on a couch surrounded by all; Rajit & Ehsaan standing in the corner of their terrace and marveling at my success. Hmm…

On Friday, two days before the big day, I was all ready and daring to bare myself. Each minute, each hour was taking an eternity to pass. Girish, my next cubicle neighbor at work had noticed the change in me and kept giving me meaningful stares which left me confused every time it happened. I call him Garish. He is absolutely flamboyant. Heartthrob of the office. For the first few weeks after joining this office I was totally infatuated with him. Then I used to think “this is love”. I grew out of it in good time. Just last month somebody clicked him tonguing an intern and forwarded the clip to everyone in the office. It grossed me even more. Nobody knows who started it, but everyone had a role to play in it. I received it from 4 different people in the office. The girl in question, a summer trainee looked a beautiful shade of pink throughout the next week; she seemed to be enjoying the attention. Girish on the other hand remained unfazed by it. If anything, he became more open with his flirtatious intents.

I am going off track. So, this strange behavior of Girish was bothering me. I have been on less than friendly terms with him. Earlier in my infatuation days I was never able to look him in the eyes and hardly ever spoke more than three words at a time to him. Once I grew out of the infatuation, I kept my distance, as all of a sudden he had become all those things I didn’t want in my boyfriend. I hated the way he used to steal the show from under everyone’s nose. Once at one of the meetings, when I had presented my proposal for the new product launch, he cracked some joke at my expense and everyone was double with laughter and I was left seething.

That day, in the evening, before leaving the office he came to my cubicle, and asked me if I had a hot date for the weekend. I took 30 seconds to debate in my mind whether or not I should say yes. I finally managed to mumble a meek yes. He laughed aloud and wished me luck. Luck my ass! Like I wouldn’t survive a date without his blessings. I had another of those feelings of absolute hatred for him.

That night I called Rajit to find out how many guys were coming but he was on voicemail. Rajit on voicemail means only one thing – he is having sex. Otherwise, he and his mobile are almost inseparable and he answers all calls at all times.

Saturday was turning out to be a very bad day for me. I am simply not good at waiting. Nothing could keep my mind occupied for more than a few seconds. Now, the fear of the unknown was beginning to replace the excitement & the butterflies in my stomach were growing bigger and bigger. My rejoinders started falling flat in my imaginary spats. I started stumbling upon the rugs and falling in the curry bowl that was large enough for me to drown in it. I started stuttering while rendering a joke. My clothes started looking out of place, out of style to me. Everything was falling apart. My imagination that had made me so happy till a few days ago started making me mad.

By next morning I was a total wreck. I reached Ehsaan’s building dot on time. 11.30 am. But that was it. I was unable to move any further. I kept imagining nice looking, suave and interesting people having a nice time. I spent 40 minutes circling the building and waiting under the tree across the complex. Finally, I decided to make a move.

I pressed the call bell and the door was opened by Ehsaan. He hugged and led me towards the living room. There were some two dozen people scattered over the living room area and the adjoining terrace. Rajit came forward and hugged me tightly. I started feeling a little better but I didn’t see myself doing all those antics I thought of throughout the week.

I took to a corner where a bean bag lay empty. There were all sorts of guys. A couple of old acquaintances, people I had met while I was with Rajit, came forward and we talked for a few minutes; then I let them drift away by not offering more than two syllables in answer to their queries. A guy of around 40 years of age sat on the other bean bag across from me. He kept giving me the “I have an eye on you” look. I couldn’t help but look at him; he was dressed in a shocking pink kurta and chudidaar pajamas. He sat like some “Johrabai” watching her protégé perform before the nawabs. Funny way to sit. There were a couple of teenagers, who were busy amongst themselves. One of them kept throwing glances at me and I flattered myself. A little later I went to the dining where different snacks were laid and picked a couple of mutton chops and returned to my place – to find that very same teenager who was eyeing me was now sprawled on the couch.

I drifted towards the terrace. There was a group of middle-aged guys which was discussing the GB party on last Friday. Apparently none got a partner for the night and were quite disappointed and blamed it all on the superfluous & shallow ways of the young ones. “These kids, they are very shallow, all they want is a good looking face and fit body; character and intelligence means nothing to them” and similar lamentations. I moved towards another group which was discussing KY Jelly. All three of them wanted to experiment with it, but were too afraid to go to a medical shop and ask for it. Rajit was in a heated discussion with another guy. They seemed to be discussing Paheli as India’s entry to the Oscars.

All of a sudden I became as stiff as a pole. I heard a familiar laughter and rushed towards the living room. The scene inside was the same. The guy in Pink Kurta was now standing near the large window and was staring out. He stood like the “virahini” looking for her lover. Funny way to stand. But I couldn’t fix the laughter on to someone. I blamed it on my confused and nervous senses.

The cigarette smoke started getting to me. The living room was bad, the terrace was not much better. I moved towards the inside of the apartment. I tried one door and found it locked from inside. Tried another door and it opened. On the other end was another door that opened on to a balcony and the door was open. I rushed towards it. The view was breathtaking. Then something else happened that took my breath and my life away.

He made his presence known to me by calling my name “Prithvi”. I was stunned; unable to speak I turned and saw that smile I have seen so many times. Garish was giving his most brilliant smile. He was grinning. He was actually gloating and I was giving him enough reasons. He must have known all this time that I was coming to this party because there was nothing on his face that could be mistaken for surprise. I on the other hand was unable to think or react. I stuttered a measly “Hi”. He came forward and shook my hand warmly and then almost killed me when he bent forward and left a light peck on my cheek.

Today when I look at that day, I can’t help smiling. Girish is an ex of Ehsaan. They dated during their management degree. One day when the party was being discussed and the invitee list being prepared, Girish was there helping Ehsaan & Rajit as he was in charge of arranging the caterer. That is when he came across my name and confirmed with Rajit about my identity. He then extracted a promise from Rajit that he would keep quiet about it. The knowledge of me being a gay painted an entirely different picture of me in his mind. He started paying attention to me. And that day at the party when he was debating with himself on the balcony about how to meet me, I walked in on him. He asked me out and the rest as they say is history.

This is what dreams are made of


I have never been a winner. Always on the outskirts, never there, never on spot. Throughout my school years, I used to be in the top few; college was not much different. So, when my room mate confessed in me that he is so totally smitten by my friend Aarif, I thought to myself – “there you go again!”.

Krishna Nathanial Parker, my flat mate for the past one year and seven months is a nice bloke. He is lucky in love in a very unlucky sort of way. A guy he likes is very likely to be already in love with him. But somehow things have never worked out for him. He has had 5 serious and many non serious affairs. That’s a lot considering his age of 23 years.

Krish was born to British father & Indian mother. I advertised for a gay flat mate on the net and of the 3 guys I had short listed Krish was the most eligible of them. Born and brought up in Liverpool; a talented musician who dreams of making it big in Bollywood; had already been in India for 2 years when we met; Kind and humble and very brainy (sort of); also beautiful. So, he moved in with me. We had this understanding from the beginning that we will keep our personal lives to ourselves. Sigh! Only I have no personal life to keep from others. So, Krish moved in with me and we were doing well. He kept to his room mostly and I didn’t miss him much when he was not around.

I CANNOT go on a date with a stranger. It just freaks me out. I tried going against my instincts once - made a complete fool of myself – and returned home with a bruised and battered dignity. So advertising for a roommate was like participating in Fear Factor - like being jailed in a 3x3 box with 2 dozen fat rats. Not that disgusting, but definitely as fearsome. My friend Aarif egged me to do so.

Now Aarif… is another story. He’s my oldest friend and the only person in my world who knows I am homosexual. I came out to him after the fiasco that my first date was, almost two and a half years ago. I returned from the date all sad and depressed… and there he was, waiting for me all “EARS” to know about the hot girl I had described to him. I was so humiliated, I couldn’t help but cry. And when he tried making me feel better my crying grew even louder. He kept saying things like “there are more girls out there and definitely kinder than the one I had just met”. I felt the need of telling him the truth about me. Looking at his concern I felt as if I was cheating him. Sometime during that night when I was not crying anymore I came out to him. He took it in his stride. Up till that day he had been out of my circle of eligible boyfriends. After that day I started looking at him from a different angle – the dream angle – where I and he lived happily ever after. Sigh!

I never saw Krish as a competitor. He is the ideal gay guy. Very comfortable with himself, out to every one he knows. He would never even think of getting serious about a homosexual, who is in denial or a bisexual, leave alone a straight guy. So, I had Aarif all to myself.

Every day I was falling more and more in love with Aarif. His words of kindness, his humility, his supportiveness and care, his protective attitude towards me and his loyalty to me as a friend – everything was taking me closer and closer to him. My dreams included a penthouse apartment on Worli sea face, with a large terrace where we would have our coffee in the morning – his black and strong and mine with sugar & milk. Throughout the course of the day I’d drift into my own world several times. I’d dream about different things like – the two of us on a trip to Italy; Venice, Rome, Verona and then moving on to Austria; the two of us talking to our friend Wasiqun, discussing the issues involved in her becoming a surrogate for our baby; the two of us going to meet his parents and they treating me as their second son which they never had; the two of us lamenting over the fact that we can not have a joint account; the two of us toiling over a Senior Chocolate Avalanche at Mocha, after we have downed the Dutch truffle shake and the brownie shake. Yum!

A couple of months after Krish moved in with me I gave a party where Krish met Aarif for the first time. They hit it off from the very beginning. Much to my discomfort, they talked through out the party. After the party the three of us were together many times – mostly on insistence of Krish. They traversed the distance between friendly acquaintances to good friends pretty quickly. Like within a couple of weeks. This became a matter of grave concern to me. My only respite was in the fact that Krish would never fall for a straight guy and Aarif is not gay, not even bisexual. Still, whenever I saw Krish getting comfy with Aarif I felt like going up to him and hitting so hard in his balls that they come sputtering out of his mouth.

Then one day all of the sudden Krish confessed in me “I think I have developed feelings for Aarif. Crazy as it might sound, it is true.”

CRAZY? No, dear Krish Nathanial Parker, this is outright murderous. You better be aware!

This guy who sat beside me, on my bed, in my room, in my house had no idea what he had done to me by uttering those silly words.

Feelings! Feelings my ass! What does he know about feelings? He who has had feelings for more than a (let me think over, what is it now? 24 different guys?) Thank GOD, oh gracious Lord thanks for Aarif is not gay; else what would have become of me?

One is bound to think what a moron I was. I was thanking god that the guy I was desperately in love with was not gay which saved him from becoming a prey of the great Krish Nathanial Parker. Yes I was. What you don’t know is that every time I thanked god for this I followed it with another very private prayer where I requested him to make him realize his latent sexual identity – let him come to me and tell me – Varun, I love you too. I have always been smart like this.

Things moved very fast after that. So fast that they left me behind, far behind. How far behind? I realized that after I inquired about Krish’s health, when I didn’t see him leaving his room for a few days. He grabbed the ground beneath my feet and threw it out of the window when he told me that he talked to Aarif about his feeling for him. I felt as if the roof had fallen on my head. I wanted to cry and shout but I couldn’t make myself do it. I had gone dumb. He told me how much he had disturbed Aarif with his confession. That’s when I realized the reason for Aarif’s not being in touch. It hurt me even more because I expected him to come to me and tell me about it instead of avoiding me. WHY? I sat there like a stupid and listened to Krish going over his conversation with Aarif. I couldn’t retain anything of what he said. All I saw was the vulnerable 23 year old, whose confident side was not on for show. He was sitting within the covers, talking about how much he cared for Aarif. At least he had the sense of laughing at himself and the futility of the situation. Seeing him laugh like that hit a chord somewhere in me, I laughed with him. We were in the same boat and both of us didn’t have any oars.

It took a lot of talking, 7 cups of coffees, 2 crying bouts and several hours of looking at Aarif’s picture to come to terms with reality. I would have gone through the same had I tried doing something like that. May be life was teaching me a lesson through Krish. Maybe I could become a winner after all.

I confronted Aarif and we discussed this. He was concerned about Krish and asked if he was going to be alright. I told him, he was going to be fine.

After my conversation with Aarif I told Krish about my feelings for Aarif. We started connecting. After that we started spending a lot of time together. We used to sit on the terrace and talk for hours about life and love – in general – nothing particular, certainly not Aarif. He came out of it faster than me but I surprised myself by coming out of it at all. I never thought it would ever happen. My dreams had never covered this scenario.

Today, Krish still lives with me. It’s been two years since the Aarif episode. Aarif is married and is expecting a baby in another few months. I, Krish and Aarif hang out together sometimes. Krish is dating someone else but I know they are not going to be together for long. I on the other hand have warmed up enough towards Krish. He adores me and may be someday he will realize that he can’t spend another day without me by his side.

I am a hopeless case :-)

The Runaway Bridegroom


It all began with the marriage proposal that came from London. My sister won the hearts of a London Based Indian family and their only son was supposed to come and stay with us. I am quoting an entry from my diary, just to fill up the background.

24th July, 2002:

“Hi Diary, I’m back. Sorry I can’t write lying down, I’m so full of sweets, my tummy will explode. Everybody is so happy today. Prarthna is soon to be married to this NRI. Ideally he is the “CATCH” every parent/girl dream of. He belongs to a family of IFS officers, with the Father–In–Law serving in the UK Embassy; attended Stanford and went on to Kellogg’s and now works for Goldman Sachs at New York. Wait! I’m not done yet; he lives on the 44th floor of a high end apartment rise and makes tonnes of money by Indian Standards. He is not at all bad looking. The picture suggests that with a little help he is capable of inducing a few sizzles here and there.

So much and so good. Well, Prarthna is a catch in her own way. Miss India finalist, a well known face on television; has got attitude and knows quite well how and where to use it. She is beautiful and she’s full of it.”


We bagged this connection through the sister–in–law of my Mother’s brother whose husband is friends with Suchit’s father. He was supposed to stay with us for seven days. Everyone was excited save for Prarthna. She was very fidgety. The excitement caught up with me as well. Continuously looking at that snap of Suchit’s, sometimes in Mommy’s hands, sometimes on Dadi’s cot and sometimes while fetching it from Prarthna’s drawer to show to curious friends and relatives, I had developed a strange liking towards it. For those who find it difficult understanding these things, I am gay; have been so all my life and good for me, I realised it pretty early. But, I have always been wise enough to stay away from men who are friend to family. Whatever was happening was totally strange. May be because I was hearing so much about him. Looking back, I realize, it was the reaction of a girl that is about to get married to this stranger; a stranger who lives in a picture and in the gossips of the family. Only, the stranger was coming to marry my sis. I used to think, I will get over him the moment I see him. And then the day of his arrival came.

I drove Dad, Mommy, Dadi, Uncle, Aunty, Mausi, Raghav, Chinki and Palak to the airport. I was finding it hard to breathe properly. The flight luckily was on time. Despite all my nervousness and the zillion butterflies in my stomach I vouched to stand at the very front of the throng of waiting people to welcome Suchit. I scanned the arriving passengers for a very tall, wheatish–fair guy with wavy, brown hairs and deep eyes.....and there he was.


12th August, 2002:

“Dear Diary, hold me, I am flying. No smart comments now, I’m SERIOUS!

)He’s just gorgeous! Beautiful! (and breathtakingly so

Nobody’s ever had this effect on me before... EVER! He is too good to be true... too good to be straight... LOL... But seriously, he is just so sweet, , sensitive and a veryso humble and soooo interesting. And, oh yeah good listener to boot!

Meri kismet main aisa koyee kyon nahin? Last night I made a fool of myself. I was so shocked. He passed me by and I kept gaping at him. Later I was blushing and thanks to my color, it was free for all to see.

Every time he is around, my heart starts hammering and I forget what I’m doing... I become some sort of clueless teeny bopper, blushing and fainting at the sight of her first crush. And to complicate the matters even more, he is sharing my room. Imagine my plight! What must he have thought of me? To save myself from any more mortification, last night when he came into the room, I pretended to be asleep and then spent the night listening to the rhythm of his breath. I think I might just go crazy if this I have to put up with this... this... inability to do... SOMETHING... with him for very long.”


Suchit won everybody’s heart including mine. But Prarthna was growing more and more restless. Then one day I saw her doing something which someone like Suchit didn’t really deserve. I was very cross with her and jumped on the first opportunity to corner her and question her intentions. I was left bewildered in that corner but I was sure something is wrong. I was beginning to fear something that I am sure had not crossed anybody else’s mind. At least not for the last 5–6 months; ever since Prarthna’s boy–friend Aamir was thrown out of our lives.


13th August, 2002:

“Prarthna and Suchit were supposed to go to the Siddhivinayak temple today. Prarthna pretended to have a head–ache and when Suchit tried to tend her, she snubbed him. This girl is too much. She has been like this all this while. Not that she’s ever been any better. But such uncouth behaviour in such delicate a situation is inexplicable. Or there may be an explanation to all this after all. What if Aamir is still in her life? Good for her. That boy keeps her in check. But then why is she not saying anything? Why is she letting this masquerade continue? I feel sorry for Suchit. He certainly deserves better than this. Mom and dad will be devastated. If only Aamir was Amar... Or maybe this is how things were supposed to be.

I tried talking some sense into that stupid girl. But she scalded me and left me for dead. Come to think of it, what if she really loves Aamir? What if he too is truly serious about her? Who am I to judge them and their relationship? But here sincerity is not the only question. What are we going to do about his religion? Dadi still curses Aurangzeb for every evil that persists in society. Dadi’s doctrine of “bad things happen to evil people and those who have done much of it in their last birth if not this one” puts her in a very bad light. By that same standard Dadi must have been a really bad person to deserve a granddaughter who is keen on marrying a Muslim and a grandson who is willing to settle down with a guy.”


Prarthna’s behaviour disturbed him. I looked for him throughout the house and finally found him on the terrace, writing something in a black note–book. He smiled at me and swept me off my feet, yet again. I had started being somewhat comfortable in his company. We made some small talk and then he suggested a walk down the tree lined lane that ran parallel to our house.

As we walked I thanked God many times over for His perfect timing; the sky was overcast and a cool breeze was doing the rounds about us; just the right atmosphere for a romantic stroll down lover’s lane! It was a very lovely day.

We kept silent for a while, only smiling at each other from time to time and then looking elsewhere (in my case, to keep that glee I had in my smile, away from his eyes’ reach). I was enjoying the walk thoroughly. It was exactly like I had dreamt it could be. The road was almost deserted.

I tried apologising for Prarthna’s behaviour earlier in the day and to my surprise, that somehow broke the ice. We started talking; first about his job and my studies and then about his studies and my future professional aspirations and then about friends and family; and then about practically everything else under the Sun.

We had just started discussing his love for poetry when it started raining. And the magic of the next few moments happened instinctively I think... He took my hand and ran towards the only shelter available on that lonely stretch of road (a big Gulmohar tree), and there we stood waiting for the rain to stop. His arm was draped almost protectively around my shoulders, and I found myself on Cloud 9. The spell lasted for only a few breathtaking minutes when something made him take his arms off me (God how I hate that undefined something!)

After about half an hour when the rain had calmed to a lazy drizzle we decided to take a rickshaw to home. That small run in the rickshaw was another of those cherished moments with him. We were sitting really close, water dripping from us, shivering like babes fresh out of the womb.

Every moment was a conflict; all I wanted to do was gather him into my arms and offer some of the warmth that flowed in my heart. His chest hairs peeking from the open collar of his wet white shirt (which left little to my rampant imagination) was proving to be of little help in keeping those desires in check. Thankfully (sadly) we reached home. We never got another minute to ourselves after all that day long.



14th August 2002:

“I am in love. I have no time for a prologue. I am too busy being happy. I will never forget August the 13th of the year 2002... (Sigh... long and orgasmic, sigh!)

That was a walk to remember and a rain that will whet my memories for times to come. Dear God, will I ever meet someone like him, like him only – a version of Suchit who can reciprocate my feelings?

Should I tell him about Aamir and Prarthna? I would – at that – if I wasn’t so sure it would put an end to his stay here. No. Don’t even think about it! Don’t expect me to be too reasonable my dear diary.

Anyways... I have to go. We’re going for a movie. I’m thinking of clarifying things with Prarthna at least. What is it that she’s after?”


That day Prarthna left the theatre to attend a call and didn’t return till the end of the movie. As it turned out, she’d upped and left for some other place (Aamir!... Aamir!... Aamir – Alert!). Except for her behaviour there was nothing else that spoiled the day for the two us. We loved the movie and later on when we found out that Prarthna was nowhere to be found, we walked all the way to Marine Drive (allowing me ). Once there, weto act superior and play tourist guide the whole way sat in front of the Oberoi’s having some sort of impromptu Tea Guzzling Tournament and the evening became yet another of the most memorable evenings of my life. I even stopped being careful about my love for him showing on my face. It was as if we were like two lovers spending quality time together.

That night when we returned home, Prarthna had already reached home and by the looks on everybody’s face I could tell that something was wrong. After sending Suchit to the room, all of us huddled into Dadi’s bedroom. The court was set in motion, accusations made, arguments snubbed, truth demanded and rulings given. Aamir once again came forth and Prarthna was told in no indefinite terms that the boy was AIDS as far the family was concerned and was to be avoided in like manner. She cried and pleaded and for the first time I understood her pain. I hazarded to lend my own feeble support in favour of my sis – and was rewarded with a slap from dad leaving one half of my face stinging in its wake.

That’s when I realised the severity of the situation. I and my sister were up against parents who were not going to be easily overruled. They were heavily prejudiced and falsely progressive. All of a sudden I saw all my hopes come tumbling down about my ears; the hopelessness of my situation, the folly of my desire – my parents were bent upon marrying off the man of my dreams to my TOTALLY unwilling sister!

I was on the verge of breaking down when the court’s session called to an end.


15th August 2002:

“Dear God, help me. Yesterday I spent the day with the man I love; happy and gay. And then as if to set the balances straight I spent the night crying. I realised the futility of my dreams and the truth of matters. I can’t have the man I love. My sister will be forcibly married to him. She doesn’t love him, she loves Aamir. Suchit has not made up his mind about her; the way things are going he’s probably gonna say no to her.

I hope.

Last night when I came back to room he was still awake, sitting at my desk. By the look on his face I could tell that he knew what was going on. He even noticed the swelling on my face and approached as if to attend to it – but much to my disappointment he settled with offering me a damp cloth.

We didn’t talk much.”


That night after switching off the lights I lay on my bed, silently crying. My heart was aching to go to him. He asked if I was ok...

Next morning there was a tension in the air. Mom and dad were trying their best to be cheerful and look happy. Suchit was very grim faced. Everyone added two and two together; Mom and Dadi retreated to Dadi’s room, lamenting about the situation and waiting for the bomb to be dropped. Yes, it was very evident, everyone was expecting something. Anxiety hung heavily in the air.

Suchit dear dropped the bomb at the breakfast table.

Well Mommy had asked for it; after what seemed to be hours of prodding, Suchit said “I don’t want Prarthna to be forced to marry me.” He declared that he would be going back as soon as possible. The desperation on Mom and Dad’s face was embarrassing me mightily; I didn’t know what to do. It was just such a hopeless situation.

Suchit came back up to our room and told me that he did not wish to stay here any longer as he felt the situation was now unbearably awkward. We talked a little bit more while he was packing to leave for a hotel. He seemed to be very much disturbed. In my heart I continually cursed the whole situation. I could not bear the sight of his handsome face being contorted into mask of anguish. May be he did like Prarthna after all... What a mess!


15th August 2002:

“Dear Diary – he’s left the house. I have just returned after dropping him at the Orchid.

I am feeling so empty, so hopeless, as if I have lost everything that meant anything to me. My longing heart has been reading too much in his eyes, in his actions and in his words. We talked a bit while he was packing. He seemed very disturbed for some reason. I mean I never thought he would be so badly affected by all this. My heart keeps hoping against hope....was all that grief for me? Will he remember me once he’s away? Did I ever mean anything to him? What does he think of me? Where do I stand? Does he even consider me a friend? We don’t have much of an age difference, he is 26 while I am 23...we can be friends. I think, the way we talked and had good times together, he liked my company.

I feel like going to him, calling him, talking to him...but I don’t have any reason that would hold good. After all I am brother of the girl he was supposed to marry and whom he is not marrying anymore. Of all the people, why did I fall for a straight guy? God, you have strange ways. I don’t understand your plans...why did he have to come into my world...shake everything and then leave...I am tired. I think I will sleep. God, I love him. Please give him strength”


15th august 2002
Page 302 of Suchit Mishra’s Journal
Hotel Orchid,
Mumbai, India.

17:22

“I came here to find a bride, found myself instead; found him and then lost him....I fear I will lose myself as well. I never thought I will ever accept this side of myself. Pullack swept me off like a wind sweeps a stray leaf off the ground. A confused, gawky lad at one point and a mature, understanding man at another....he won my heart in every role he played. I smile at the futility of the situation. What am I supposed to do? I am in love with this guy, who probably is angry with me for turning down his sister. He seemed to be very disturbed. I hate myself for being the reason for his strife. But I had no choice. For long I have been denying myself the right to be ‘myself ’.Family, prestige, career, customs, society....what was I going to do? Marry a girl and kill myself? I think I see why God send Pullack in my life. Thank you dear, for giving me my life back. Denying me the right to be my true self was easy when I had no one in my life. Pullack has shown me that my heart will beat for another man only. Pullack,Pullack,Pullack....I love you. I wish I could say this to you. My dear, my grievous heart is pining for your company. I can’t even call you. What would I say why am I calling? I think he liked me. I will cherish those moments spent with him...for ever and ever...My thoughts are going awry. I think I will stop writing. I miss you dear. I love you.”


Suchit called me the next day to inform me about his flight timings. I was not able to say anything to him. My heart was swelling with grief. It was after this call that I cried my heart out. It finally settled upon me that the only person whom I loved would be leaving me for ever. He didn’t even know what he meant to me. That’s when I decided that I will tell him. He won’t be around to embarrass me and I will be at peace that at least he knows how much he means to me. How? I spent hours thinking about it and ultimately reached the final decision.

I poured my heart out in two pages; folded and tucked them neatly inside a copy of “The Bridges of Madison County” and reached the hotel just in time. We didn’t talk much during the short drive. I didn’t trust myself with speaking. I might have given away myself then and there. At the last check in point, we finally bid good–bye to each other by shaking hands...which I held for a bit too long. He gave me a brief hug and left.

I sat in my car, crying like a baby. I gained so much and then lost everything, within a few weeks.


Somewhere in my heart there was a small hope that he would call me after reading my letter. Whole next day proved to be a draught as far as calls were concerned. Luckily everyone had their own grieves to address, so I was spared any questions regarding the gloom that wrapped me. Within a day I had become like a skeleton....lifeless.

It must have been early morning when the phone call came. I picked the phone and the voice on the other side of the line made me jump out of my bed.

We look at those days with fondness. Suchit came across my letter as soon as the plane lifted to air. I can imagine how happy it made him and how restless at the same time. The time between Mumbai to Frankfurt was a real test of his patience. Once he landed at Frankfurt, he darted back towards Mumbai and delivered me of my pains immediately. We had a re–union at five thirty in the morning at his hotel.


Much has changed since then. We live in New York and would be celebrating the second anniversary of our togetherness. How we managed to overcome our families is a story in itself. Prarthna & Aamir are going to be married by the end of this year. In the end I would like to say, may everyone get the love they seek and be loved as much as they love. Amen!

The story of Ohsobeautiful

Once upon a time there lived a guy called Methehelpless. He had a wife who was feared by all. Her name was Youhavehadit. She was a woman of a cruel disposition. She bore two daughters and a son to Methehelpless.

Before Youhavehadit, Methehelpless was married to Benignandlovely. Poor Benignandlovely died of a deadly disease and left one daughter behind. This eldest child of the Crazylot clan was called Ohsobeautiful. The other children were Cruella, Evenmorecruella and Goodfornothing.

The girls hated Ohsobeautiful with all their heart their hatred for her was manifested in various forms. They used to pour spoonfuls of salt in Ohsobeautiful's porridge; or sometimes they would wet her bed and she'd have to sleep on the ground. Methehelpless tried helping his daughter but he was helpless against the combined powers of Youhavehadit and her two daughters. Goodfornothing also felt sorry for Ohsobeautiful and his heart would reach out for her, but he was good for nothing. Thus, Ohsobeautiful was left to defend for herself - at which she was not very good.

So, the Crazylot clan continued its harsh treatment of the eldest daughter of the family.

One day Evenmorecruella tried burning Ohsobeautiful's face. Earlier that day Ohsobeautiful had accompanied Evenmorecruella to the local cosmetics shop. Evenmorecruella was suffering from a rare kind of disease which had left large, red boils on her cheek. The family doctor Mr.Neversawmedschool termed the disease – “wierdkindaacne”. The salesman at the shop Hopelesslyinlove, in an attempt to impress Ohsobeautiful made some snide remarks about Eversocruella's condition. Little did he know that his innocent attempt at wit would cost his object of affection a good deal of mental and physical trauma.

At home Evenmorecruella repeated the incident to the rest of the family. Goodfornothing added salt to injury by laughing like a horse. Goodfornothing usually was very good for creating trouble for others. If a mathematician had to document all the conflicts throughout the village he/she would reach to a conclusion that most of those conflicts had a horse-like laughter in the background. Incinerated by continuous insults, Evenmorecruella decided to take out her frustration on Ohsobeautiful. She picked a cinder from the oven and charged at Ohsobeautiful with harmful intent. Ohsobeautiful, defying the theories about beautiful women being dumb, foresaw the harm that was about to be inflicted upon her and made for her escape. She ran out of the house and rushed towards the cosmetics shop. She expected help and shelter from her chivalrous hero and lover. But when she reached the corner from where she could see the shop, a very unwelcome scene was waiting for her. She witnessed the public spanking of Hopelesslyinlove by his master, who was very angry at loosing a regular customer like Evenmorecruella.

Hopelesslyinlove's master Mr.Shrewedtrader banked upon ugly women and their notion (which was cleverly supplanted in their heads by advertisements issued by his PR firm Kiss'n'Tell) that using more and more cosmetics would make them look more desirable. Such a tactic ensured continuous traffic of customers and in most cases life long patronage. For such a man, an incident like that morning was a very serious concern.

Ohsobeautiful left before she could get sick all over herself. Hopelesslyinlove's rear assets were far from her liking and the red marks on them gave those puny things even more sickening look. She took to the paths that lead to the big city - the Landofthugs.

At the same time, Iamwaytoosmartforyou, a girl of the same age as Ohsobeautiful entered the tiny village of Pockmarkonthemap. Call it nature’s weird ways or what you may – Iamwaytoosmartforyou looked exactly like Ohsobeautiful. So striking was the resemblance that the besotted lover, when free from the spanking (to which Iamwaytoosmartforyou was a witness and which was very much enjoyed by her in a perverted sort of way; she liked slender guys) ran straight towards her and started telling tales of his tryst with the loveless life. Iamwaytoosmartforyou was very smart indeed and within a couple of hours she knew a lot about a girl called Ohsobeautiful who resembled her lot, at least physically.

A little something about Iamwaytoosmartforyou. She was left by herself on the steps of a rich man’s mansion. The housekeeper of the house Mrs.Spicandspan took pity on the infant and took her in. She named the baby Adora, for she was very adorable. Adora was a very free spirited girl. She always managed to pick a fight with others, especially with the master’s son Willbecomeprincecharmingsomeday. The biggest subject of fight used to be the length of his name. They grew together under the same roof. As Adora entered adolescence, her beauty and free spirit started worrying Willbecomeprincecharmingsomeday’s mother Worriedaboutbountyhunters. She saw her as a threat as her son spent half of his time complaining about her. Worriedaboutbountyhunters clearly remembered her youth when she used to be Miss Bountyhunter and how she had made Mr.Cluelessinlove fall for her by playing the I-will-make-you-hate-me-and one-day-you-will-realize-you-are-in-love-with-me game. She started looking for ways to get rid of Adora and Mother Nature presented her with the perfect way out. Mrs. Spicandspan died of old age and soon after the funeral Adora was asked to leave the mansion. Adora would have left the place peacefully, for she saw no reason for her to stay there; but as luck would have it, she overheard Mrs. Worriedaboutbountyhunters talking to her ladies maid Gloatingoveryoursorrows about how she managed to throw out the fly in her glass of milk. This angered Adora to great extent and that is when she acquired her new name “Iamwaytoosmartforyou”.

In order to seek revenge, Iamwaytoosmartforyou stole the solitaire from Mrs. Worriedaboutbountyhunters’s bedroom. But before she could leave the premises, Gloatingoveryoursorrows, who had seen the theft being committed, alerted the guards. Iamwaytoosmartforyou managed to leave the premises without being caught but soon the entire militia was looking for her. She fled from the Landofthugs.


Will continue

It Can Come down in a moment


I was woken up by the familiar ring tone. I got up and started looking for the phone. I followed the ringing and found my phone under the book I was reading earlier that night. I looked up at the clock, it was almost three in the night.

I had been waiting for Kalp; my calls to him went unanswered and I was beginning to get worried. Usually he called whenever he was to be late at work. That day when there was no call from him till 12:30 I had started calling his number repeatedly. I told myself that he must be in an editing studio and the phone must be lying outside. I tried reading a book, but it failed to take my mind off the situation. My mind started thinking about different things, all unpleasant thoughts. I paced the living room, kept going out on the terrace to look at the gate of the complex that is visible from our balcony. Then sometime later I fell asleep on the couch.

I clicked the receive button and instead of Kalp’s endearing voice I heard a stranger on the other side.

That night my life changed in a much unexpected way. Our world, mine and Kalp’s came crumbling down and there was nothing I could do to prevent it. Life’s unpredictability hit me in the worst possible manner. The call was from a hospital; the caller, Inspector Karyekar dialed the number that was listed as having sent 19 missed calls to find the whereabouts of the body they found on the new link road (very near to our complex). As per him the guy was hit by some speeding vehicle and had been lying on the road for some time before a Good Samaritan called the police and informed about the accident. He told me that they have sent the body for a post-mortem. I managed to say, I will be there as soon as possible.

I felt dizzy. I didn’t know what to do. It felt unreal, like something from out of this world. Even in my wildest and scariest dreams I had not seen something like this happening. I sat there for almost an eternity when I got another call. This time it was from Jayant, our friend, who I had called to ask him about Kalp. I received his call with shaky hands. He asked me if Kalp has reached home safely. That’s when I let it out; a moan, a muffled scream; I wanted to tell Jayant what had happened, but my mouth was gagged; I was not able to say even a single word; I wanted to tell him that Kalp had been lying on the road, for hours, very near to our house & that now he was in some hospital, being scrutinized for the cause of death. I finally managed to say something, but there was nobody on the other side. Jayant who lived a few blocks down the line was on his way to my place.

By the time Jayant came over I was crying aloud. There was no stopping me. We were to celebrate our 11th anniversary next week.

I met Kalp almost twelve years ago in a party hosted by a regular friend. I was 19 and he was 23 then. I had just started my engineering degree and he was in the last year of his PG in mass comm. We didn’t really click with each other initially. Initially we met each other at some or the other friend’s place. After some time, we realized that we like being together – at every other party or gathering where both of us were invited, we ended up sitting and spending time together despite of bringing dates of our own. In the 10th month of our knowing each other, we decided to give us a chance. Till that time we had not officially dated each other – we just spent most of our free time with each other – talking, watching movies, checking out guys, eating out, attending lectures and watching plays. It was not love at first sight, but it was a love evolved over many sights and it was real.

He lived with his family at Versova and I lived with my family at Bandra. We were scraping for every minute that we could spend together. Both of us being dependent financially on our families was not helping our cause as well. We used to meet and then plan about future. Both of us realized that moving in together will be a wonderful idea. We waited till Kalp got a job and then made our moves. By that time we were in second year of knowing each other & the first year of our relationship.

I came out to my family. My mom and dad understood but nevertheless were greatly affected. My sister started looking at me with much respect. My coming out to family proved that I was not the spineless creature she kept calling me. I think breaking the news of my moving out was a bigger blow to my parents. I told them about Kalp. Accepting the fact that their son is a homosexual is fine. They can manage to live with it. But having to see their homosexual son living with his partner is something that will constantly remind them of the unwelcome predicament they are in. My dad tried putting his foot down. But I had already crossed the biggest block; all others were supposed o fall in place.

Kalp’s coming out was not easy. He has two elder brothers who are married and a younger brother and they all live together. He didn’t want to come out. He knew that his orthodox family will never understand. Even the subject of his moving out was not taken nicely. It was seen as an act of treason against the family. In the heated discussion that followed his declaration of moving out his secret was spilled by the youngest brother who had known about his orientation for sometime. That night when Kalp called me from Jayant’s place, I knew something very bad has happened. I rushed to Jayant’s place, where I found a very much shaken and bruised Kalp. His elder brothers tried to thrash his homosexuality out of him at the behest of his father.

Kalp’s salary was not enough for us to live anywhere else but some place like Mira Rd. We found a charming 1 bhk in Mira Rd, for a monthly rent of 800 Rs. Jayant helped us with the deposit of 10,000 Rs. A week after Kalp came out to his family, we moved into our new place. Saloni, Kalp’s younger sister-in-law smuggled his books, clothes and few other stuff to Jayant’s place; she also left a thick wad of 500 Rs notes send by Kalp’s mother. From my side of family, my mother and sister helped me set up the place. Mom gave me the extra stove and utensils and mattresses. My sister started giving me an allowance of 1500 Rs and my mom used to give me as much money as she could spare without inviting my dad’s attention, who was still angry with me.

Life in Mira Rd was heavenly. Commuting was a nightmare - it was very far from my college in Powai and Kalp’s office in Fort. But waking up every morning to the sight of Kalp sleeping like a baby by my side was invaluable. Those nights of love making; washing dishes together, endless conversations, spending the Sundays mornings reading newspaper and then watching television together – every thing was great.

We had our share of fights, misunderstandings & insecurities. There was a time when Kalp used to get incensed at the mention of one of my charming colleagues whose forwards in my phone were taking more and more space. Then when I chose Jamnalal Bajaj over IIM Bangalore, Kalp had not been happy. He saw himself as a reason for my bad decision. I loved studying at JBIMS and have not regretted that decision for even a single moment. I got uncomfortable when Jayant’s offered Kalp a place in his film production company. There was a point when they were spending more time together than us. It continued till the release of their first tele serial.

Over the years we managed to overcome our insecurities from the relationship. Both of us knew – we are not going anywhere, this is where life is, and this will be where we will die – in each other’s arms. We moved to our 3 bhk apartment in Malad, four years ago. My family moved to our native place in Banaras. My sister went to Canada with her husband. Kalp’s family was still not on talking terms with him, especially his brothers. I always saw his brothers as a clever lot who used his homosexuality as a façade for their greed to keep him away from the family riches.

That day after Jayant came over and I managed to tell him what had happened, we rushed to the hospital. The twenty minute drive to the hospital seemed like hours long, during which our lives together swept past my eyes. We reached the hospital and just as the lift door was about to close I got another call from Kalp’s mobile, but before I could find out what it was about the door closed and the call got disconnected. When we reached the floor where Kalp’s body was I almost froze. Standing with the Inspector were Kalp’s three brothers and a little further down the lobby were his parents and one of the sisters-in-law. Nobody seemed to be even remotely as much distressed as I was; only his mother showed some emotions. I was aghast. How did his family come to know about this? Kalp’s mobile didn’t have any of their numbers. We approached the inspector amidst cold and nasty stares from the family. I was too weak to think or speak. Jayant introduced me as the person whom the Inspector had called to inform about the death. At that point, the inspector accepted that he made a mistake. Since he had lost a lot of blood and was very still, he assumed he is dead and that the doctors will pronounce the same in some time. The doctors found him alive and started operating on him. One of the nurses working on the operation knew Kalp and his family. Thus his family was informed and summoned. With the so called immediate family present there, it never occurred to the inspector that he had killed someone over phone and that dead person needed to be told that the news was a false alarm.

I was too weak to even move otherwise I would have beaten the bastard to death. Jayant assisted me to one of the chairs, where we waited for the operation to get over. At 5:30 in the morning, the doctors announced that he has lapsed into a coma. My crying started again. There was no stopping me. On the other side, all but his mother and Saloni took the news very calmly. He was put in the ICU and everyone except two members of the immediate family was asked to leave. I was not even allowed to have a look at him. This was another of those injustices that we have been going through as an unofficial couple. For society and law we were two individuals with no verifiable or legally enforceable connections. We couldn’t open a joint account; we could not name each other as the benefactor in our insurance policies; when we tried naming each other as the sole benefactor in our wills, our lawyer friend informed us that this will can be easily contested and defeated in a court. These were things that were important but didn’t matter so much. But what happened at the hospital was totally unbearable. I refused to buzz from there unless I had seen him from close. After much cajoling, the doctors allowed me to have a look at him. Looking at his heaving chest made me immensely happy.

Kalp remained in coma for 13 days. Those 13 days were the most unhappy days of my life. I was allowed to see him once a day for a few minutes. Every time Jayant or one of the other friends used to accompany me, for nobody liked the way the nasty brothers looked at me. On the day of our anniversary all the friends came over to our place and we prayed for his well being. I practically lived outside the hospital. Saloni became the connection between his room and me and it was at 4 in morning on the 13th day, when she called me to inform that he has come back to senses and he has been asking for me. I ran with all my life. Jayant, who was sleeping in the guest bed room was woken up by the slammed door. He followed me to the hospital.

It’s been two years since that episode from our lives. Today, we are just 3 weeks away from moving to Canada. Next month we will be signing the papers and will officially become partners. We will have right over each other. I will be a spouse and not just a friend or roommate. If something ever happens to me or in case of my demise, I want to leave the right of planning my funeral with Kalp. I want to make sure that he remains a part of my life even after I am not around. I don’t want him to become a stranger just because he didn’t sign on some paper.