quintessential-queer-indian-blog

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Congratulations

Congratulations to every Indian! Today is an important day in the history of the fight towards tolerance and acceptance. The decriminalization of “unnatural” sexual intercourse which includes the LGBT+ community is a small but important step towards tolerance. A wave of gratitude ripples across the nation to all those who have spent the last 6 years defending the right to love whomever we want. The journey doesn’t stop here but it is a remarkable beginning - the beginning of change. Today, our constitution recognizes all our queer brothers and sisters as people, regardless of their sexuality and gender, and that is nothing to undermine. The march towards broad-mindedness and social acceptance towards the LGBT+ community has started, and I am glad to be a proud participant in this change! 

PS: Not in a very literary mood today but this is something huge that I just cannot ignore! 

#love is love #love wins #section 377 #tolerance #gay in india #proud to be gay

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Dear Anonymous,

If you got the reference I’d made in title, please leave a comment because I would love to get in touch with someone I’m in sync with. Anyway, for those who did not get the reference, fret not, for I will explain. “Penelope” is one of the most magical films I’ve ever seen which has a very beautiful lesson about self-acceptance. A brief plot summary:

A modern day fairy-tale about a girl, Penelope Wilhern, born to an elite Blue Blood family must break a curse she inherited from her bloodline that gave her the face of a pig. In order to break this curse, she must be accepted by “one of her own kind, till death do them apart”. Brought up in captivity by an overbearing mother, she is trained to be a model bride and is set up with a marriage arrangement service, whereas all Penelope wants is to see the world and be free.

I remember the first time I ever watched the movie, when I was 12. Ever since, I’ve always wanted to watch it again but it was never shown on television again. Recently, I got hold of the movie and watched it to death for about 10 times. The soundtrack at the end is particularly charming, called “Hoppípolla” by Sigur Rós. If you do want to watch this movie, I’d suggest you do so before you read this post because I kind of spoil the ending (sorry, not sorry).

Anyway, coming back to the point of my post. The reference to Penelope was merely to elucidate the concept of self acceptance. In order to get rid of the curse, Penelope agrees to marry a blue blood, who is only marrying her to restore his public image on orders from his father, after publicly shaming Penelope, describing her as a monster with fangs. However, when the “I do” moment arrives, Penelope gives in to her doubts and says “No!” and runs away from the altar. Her mother, worried that the blue blood would leave, follows Penelope and pleads with her to get back and marry him when Penelope says the iconic words: “I don’t want to get rid of the curse; I like myself the way I am“. At that moment, she becomes the Blue Blood required to break the curse as she “is one of their kind who accepts her until death do them apart”, thus reverting her nose and ears back to that of a human.

Penelope taught me a very important lesson when she said the words: “I like myself the way I am”. We spend so much time and effort and money on things such as make-up, special diet, exercise equipment, gym membership, etc. We have a set image in our minds as to how we ought to look like. We have been conditioned by society to thinking that we are not “pretty enough”, or “handsome enough”, or “hot enough”, or “sexy enough”. Sometimes, things that are totally out of our control such as height, skin color, hair quality etc, are what makes us “not good enough” for the social idea of good looks. On the one hand, we reiterate “Beauty lies in the eyes of the beholder”, whereas on the other hand, we squeeze ourselves into tight dresses and add an inch-thick layer of make-up, or we work out till our muscles become sore in order to have “abs” and “glutes” and whatnot. I’m not shaming those who like wearing make-up or wearing pretty dresses, or like working out in the gym in order to have a stunning body. I am in awe of said people because it takes a great deal of care and effort to maintain yourself. Watching every carb you eat, maintaining a diet diary and counting calories, spending hours in the gym and toning your muscles, grooming and trimming and waxing off hair apart from that on your head while spending a great deal of time in styling the hair that is on your head; all of these activities ought to be done by people voluntarily. These activities take up a lot of time and effort, both physical and mental/emotional, and are just means to an end some people wish to achieve. However, it is imprudent to assume that everybody ought to set their body image standards to such a high benchmark. Not everyone may have the sort of means, time, or energy in them to do these activities in order to be deemed “beautiful” or “hot” by a generic crowd of four people.

Now, I could go on and blame movies and media as a source of unrealistic body standards, which is true. However, I wish take another route. Media promotes many things – some are good (like philanthropy, animal and human rights, business sense etc) and some are not (violence, unrealistic body standards, sexual discrimination and overhyping many vices). What the media does is present to you, the viewer, as entertainment, a fictionalized version of reality. The very point of requiring entertainment is that reality is too boring at times. You wake up, get ready to go to office/school, spend a third of your day doing work (job or learning), come back home and retire for the rest of the day. A monotonous routine requires some catalyst – something that drives you to continue the monotony. Don’t get me wrong, monotony isn’t bad; monotony is what pays your bills. The catalyst is the entertainment in the form of movies, shows, social media, porn etc. Naturally, this entertainment you seek requires some pizzazz, an element of fantasy that elevated you from the mundane musings of your daily life. Media provides this for you. To do so, they need to create aspects of fantasy, so close to reality that it seems real enough, yet not too close to reality that it becomes “too real”. This fantasy world requires perfection; things people generally like: Pretty objects and pretty people leading pretty, yet relatable lives. Here comes the aspect of “unrealistic body standards”. In order to please the maximum number of people, you need a hook; something that makes people want to watch the movie or show, or read the article, or buy a product. This is where they usher in the pretty guns: skinny girls with surreal skin and dress size and impossibly straight hair, and men that exude masculinity with their rock hard pecs and ice-cube tray abs and albeit not mentioned, clear perfect fair skin with perfectly groomed hair and smooth airbrushed body parts. These people are simply doing their job – to create a fantasy world for you, the average looking, average bodied mass public. Some of these people are genetically gifted while others put themselves through a certain hell to look “bangable”. But that’s all they are; people like you and me, doing their jobs like you and me, to pay their bills like you and me. The problem arises when people start setting goals based on those pretty guns hired to spruce up the fantasy world. You are a person with a full-time job. How can you possibly imagine trying to put in the effort those pretty guns do (for their own full-time job), apart from the effort you put into your own job? Know the line between fantasy and reality, and you will realise the truth – bringing your lofty standards back from fantasy to reality will save you a lot of effort and bring you true happiness.

That said, one of the major reasons people indulge in lofty and unrealistic standards of appearance is less voluntary than one might think. As a species, we are genetically predisposed to “being the perfect mate” for our fellow sapiens. Therefore, even though we may not internalize or believe in those standards set by the fantasy, we put ourselves through certain hell to satisfy someone else’s fantasies, thus securing a mate (from an evolutionary standpoint). This is perfectly normal, but that doesn’t make it right. One of the hardest things I have had to do was to give up the idea of finding “the one” and seeming normal by having a romantic partner. When I did, it was like a weight was lifted. Suddenly, the extra insulation around my stomach and my comparatively larger ass was no longer an issue to me because I stopped fretting over whether I would be checked out by someone or be found attractive. Then came the thought – should I care about my looks, if not for a generic person to be attracted by me, then at least for my satisfaction? Cue: Penelope. I am not unhealthy (by God’s Grace). I am only slightly unattractive to look at. Once you get to know me, I happen to be a very nice person. This means that whatever differences exist between my body and my mental image of what ought to be, is only because of the unrealistic standards I’ve set for myself owing to my misinterpretation of media’s objective and other factors that have little relevance in my life. This means, it’s merely a question of self-acceptance. “I like myself the way I am”. I’m curvy and I love it. My skin is not soft, but I love it anyway. My hair is not straight or easily styled, but I love it anyway. 30 years from now, my skin will be wrinkly, and my hair will be gray/non-existent. I may have a “dad bod” and things may sag. In spite of all that, I love myself. To quote @thegoodadvicecupcake “Look into the mirror and tell yourself: I am f*cking hot”.

It would be foolish of me to say that stop hoping for romance and hot sex, because it is something we are conditioned to want. When I have a weak moment regarding the acquisition of a means to satisfy my love/lust, I run this particular movie scene through my mind:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5GyM_hp935o&feature=youtu.be

This gives me hope to wait for someone who would “like me just as I am“. If I’m not good enough for you, tough. This may seem a bit like pushing the “love yourself first” propaganda. But you know what? Try it. You’ll realise that all this while you have been missing out on a lot of happiness and contentment you could have had, had you just thought deeply about what you truly want. I did, and believe me – my bathroom scales might tell me I haven’t lost any weight, but my mind is certainly lighter.

On that note, I leave you with one last advice – Love yourself, and happiness will follow. Happiness may not look like what you imagine right now, but when happiness does come into your life, the difference won’t matter.

Until next time.

#self love #self acceptance #penelope #bridget jones #love

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Dear ex-best friend

Dear Anonymous,

There aren’t any words about a friendship that is more heartbreaking than “s/he was my best friend”. Yet, more often than not, this situation arises in everybody’s lives at some point of time. This situation, as dreadful as it is, teaches you a very important lesson in life – nothing lasts forever. Something quite similar happened to me about 2 years back.

I had a female friend, let’s call her Sarah. Sarah and I were classmates since 8th grade, when I first joined my last school (I have studied in a total of 8 schools since kindergarten, the last being my 8th). Even though we were classmates, my interaction with her was always limited to a cursory hi in the hallway. Sarah was very shy and quiet, and she spent most of her time with a tight-knit group of friends that had 2 other girls (who were also my classmates). She was quite above average in studies, and had a special talent for English. When we came to 9th grade, I had started mingling more with my classmates, and by virtue, Sarah and her friends. Very soon, I realised that of all my classmates, I could best relate to Sarah as well as her friends. We had similar taste in TV shows and music and we had a shared contempt for our classmates. By the end of 9th grade, I had been totally absorbed into their group and I was happy, even though this made me an object of ridicule as well as envy among other male classmates of mine. This was especially because one of Sarah’s friends was considered extremely pretty and had attracted the gaze of many classmates.

In 10th grade, we had become one unit – the 3 musketeers and me. This was the time when I had slowly started realising my sexuality. By no surprise, so did Sarah. However, it wasn’t until later that this fact came into the open. We would spend hours group-chatting on Facebook and they would send pictures of Enrique Iglesias and Ian Somerhalder (my first two celebrity crushes). They also introduced me to the world of pop music. In India, when you come to the 11th grade, you are asked to choose a stream – Science with biology, Science with Computer Science, Science with Economics, Commerce etc. When we came to 11th, the group split up. One girl went for commerce, while the pretty friend of Sarah’s went for Science with biology (as she wanted to become a doctor). However, Sarah and I chose Science with Computer Science. This split us up into different classes, including Sarah and I who were in two separate sections. Initially, we still maintained contact and met regularly during lunch and homeroom. However, within a month, we stopped meeting up. We grew apart, so much so that the girl who aspired to become a doctor would consciously avoid making eye contact with my when we passed by each other on the hallways (which I later found out was because of her possessive newly-found boyfriend). Nevertheless, Sarah and I still remained close. With the other two out of the picture, Sarah and I shared a very good relationship. Sarah also introduced me to her new best friend from her class, Anu. Soon Anu, Sarah and I became best friends. Halfway through 11th grade, I came out to Sarah (who was the first person I ever came out to). However, I did not come out to Anu until much later.

High school ended, and it was time to apply to colleges. Anu and I had decided to pursue engineering whereas Sarah decided to pursue architecture. By a freakish coincidence, all 3 of us ended up in the same university (even though that was not the plan for me or Sarah). During the first week of our university education, Sarah confessed something to me – she had developed a crush on Anu. In fact, on Sarah’s 18th birthday, Anu had slept over at Sarah’s place, during which time Sarah tried to kiss Anu in a fugue state, which was met with a hostile reaction from Anu. That explained a lot about why Anu and Sarah hadn’t been talking much. During this time, I was a rock for Sarah. She would often call me and text me for hours, engaging my help to get over Anu whilst not risking their friendship. I complied and helped Sarah. We started spending so much time talking to one another that my parents even suspected that I had a romantic relationship with Sarah (which they were absolutely against). There were multiple instances where we would talk all night about the most random things – movies, actors, schoolmates, music, boys and crushes etc. Sarah also had a hard time coping with the extensive workload of architecture while dealing with the emotional rollercoaster owing to Anu and her erratic friendship with Sarah. Also, it should be mentioned that Sarah and I shared one more thing – we were obese. This also troubled Sarah a lot, as she aspired to have a sleek body and had tried and failed at maintaining a diet.

During the end of our first year, Sarah was at her lowest point – heartbroken, from Anu and her ephemeral bouts of friendship; enervated, from her heavy workload in architecture; isolated, due to her mean classmates in architecture; and disappointed, because she wasn’t thin and pretty. In spite of my company, she felt like she required something else. She posted a confession regarding Anu on a famous confession app on her mobile. Fate struck and someone replied to her confession – a guy from another college, 3 years senior to us, and charming enough to break through the wall Sarah had constructed around herself. I was skeptical about this new internet relationship she has developed with a virtual stranger, and I shared my concerns with her but she refused to consider them. Soon, I started observing a drastic change in her appearance in a matter of weeks. She had started becoming thinner, got a new stylish haircut and started wearing clothes that highlighted her figure. This was accompanied with a change in her behaviour towards me, where she started keeping secrets about the mystery guy, and would often leave me on read while we texted. Then one day, she told me that she was in a committed relationship with this guy, and while she had never met him (because when they did decide to meet, he had already left for a month-long internship in a foreign country), she skyped him often. I was mostly happy for her, with a slight hint of envy as she got all that she wanted; all that we had wanted – to get thin, to look attractive and to be in a relationship. However, being her best friend, I tried my level best to feel unobjectively happy for her.

As our first year ended, she submitted her withdrawal of admission from architecture, and applied to another college for engineering. Thus ended our physical meetings in college. We would still text, however they were now mostly all about how she had reduced by 2 dress sizes and how multiple people stalked her on social media and her clandestine sexcapades with her boyfriend. Whenever she would get the idea that I was bored with the conversation, she would pity me and say: “Aw hun, you will get a boyfriend too. You just need to get out of this godforsaken country” or things like “maybe if you also lost weight…” She would then describe diets and exercises and skin-care routines I could follow in order to become attractive. Even then, we would meet up once in a while, and hang out at the mall. Sometimes, even Anu would join us. Meanwhile, Anu had also gotten into a relationship with one of her classmates. When we would hang out, Sarah would make comments like “Ah it’s so refreshing to just hang out with friends, and no boyfriends” and then accompany it with “Aw hun, don’t worry. Just hang on a bit. We got lucky when we turned 19, maybe you would too”. That is when I began to realise that along with her “extra insulation”, she had also lost her originality – the things that initially attracted me to her. She had started becoming shallow. Her new college and classmates had become her life, along with her boyfriend. Soon, it was me who started a text conversation because we hadn’t talked in so long, and she who would finish the conversation as she had too much to do. This made me feel left out and neglected. Having shared so much about my life with her, it felt hard to restrain myself from telling her about my first love. However, I tried my best to limit my conversation with her. Within a few months, our conversation involved no more than birthday and New year wishes.

Recently, I tried to reconnect with Sarah by sending her a post I found on Instagram that reminded me of her cat. It was then she revealed that she was going to Germany that day. I congratulated her, and said bon voyage, without bothering to ask her why she was going or for how long. The death of a close friendship is hard – and it hit me first, followed by Anu. But Sarah taught me a very important lesson: Never trust or love anyone unconditionally, because people always leave. They would always find someone – a new friend, or a new partner and the person you knew as your best friend is no longer in there. Because with every heartbreak, and tragedy, you lose a part of your personality, your soul, and that changes you completely. Sarah had a hard time during her teenage, and my interaction with her was during that phase. So was Anu’s. When Sarah finally found happiness in her new friends, and her boyfriend, and busy life, she wished to forget all that trauma that she went through when she was depressed and dejected. Along with forgetting her trauma, she also forgot her friends. Maybe some day, she would realise that forgetting her trauma altogether was just an analgesic – to assuage her pain, and that it was that trauma that taught her what happiness meant, and that the people who stuck by her when she was at her lowest were the ones who truly cared about her. Maybe that day she would realise that getting over her, as a best friend, was the hardest thing I ever had to do, as it wasn’t half as easy for me as it was for her. Then again, she was my best friend; who was to say I was her’s?

Anu and I still remain friends. We may not be as close as we were, but we have shared a lot of memories. Maybe some day, Anu and I might also fall apart. Who knows? But at least this time, I can be sure of one thing: I won’t be left heartbroken when another person walks through my life and leaves. We make lots of friends during our lifetime. Some are friends for life, and some are friends for a season. The important thing to remember is that at the end of the day, you are left with only one person in your life – you. So take good care of yourself and be that best friend you’ve always wanted to yourself. After all, you can’t walk through your own life and leave. In that bleak note, I leave you today.

Until next time.

#life lessons #best friend #loss #friends #self love #story

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

The Above Average Crisis

Dear Anonymous,

What’s in my noodle today is something pertaining to people in general, especially Indians, and hasn’t got much to do with sexuality. Today, I spent the greater part of 2 hours consoling my friend over text about rejections. The first thing that usually comes to mind when talking about rejections is the romantic kind. However, the rejection in question here has little to do with romance and a lot to do with job interviews. My friend, let’s call him Arun, is finally at the end of production line in the manufacturing plant of engineers. During the last stage of this production line, one often comes across a fork in the road: to be put to use in the society as an engineer (aka placements) or to continue the torturous path of education (higher studies). I chose the latter (no surprises there, as I gotta get out of this country. Such patriotism on Independence day lol). My friend however, has opted for the former and is now facing, what can only be called, the quality testing phase of the production line: placement interviews. Where there is interview, there is rejection. Unsurprisingly, Arun has faced his nth rejection. What pisses him off even more is that he got through the technical interview, but got rejected in the HR round. During my sermon to assuage his pain, I came up with a few thoughts that felt worthy of sharing on the WWW.

To give you context, let me tell you about Arun. We were classmates in high school, and suffered together through the wonderful process of JEE coaching (albeit voluntary). At the end of that road, we had 2 choices: to take the fame road (ie., go to a famous manufacturing plant) or to take the domain road (ie., go to that engineering plant that allows you to pursue the domain/department of your choice). I chose the latter, while he chose the former. He joined a well-reputed private institution in Goa (three guesses which one ;P) and took chemical engineering while I took Computer Science Engineering in a less reputed institution. All through high school, Arun and I have been very similar - likes, dislikes, capability etc. (not sexuality though). However, Arun has always been at least a smidge better than me. Always a few marks more, a few ranks above. While both of us were always above average, college changed that. My college did not attract as many top ranking individuals as his did, thus making him one among the many above average students, while I was in the top 1%. Going back to the similarities in our personalities, being one among the hundreds of capable bright individuals caused him to feel a bit burnt out, whereas the relatively less competition around me made me have an elevated sense of self-confidence. 

While I was sermonizing him, I came up with a few ideas to exactly understand our mentalities. The first is as follows: Both Arun and I were above average. This causes a condition called The Above Average Crisis. Being above average sandwiches you between two states: being excellent, and being average. Throughout school, we have consistently been scoring A grades with the occasional A- or B. This usually places us in the top 3 ranks of our class. When we finished schooling, however, we embark on the journey of engineering (having taken science stream), thus bringing together all the above average and excellent students into the same playing field while the average and below have been made to take commerce, humanities, or asked to pursue a B.Sc. instead of engineering. Therefore, the engineering playing field is filled with those who were at least above average in their school education (not considering the few management candidates). Here, you are no longer above average. Instead, you are literally the mean candidates - the ones who make up the majority. In order to rise above average, you have to compete with the excellent students, thus causing a sort of burn-out. The second important aspect of the above average crisis is ego -- you are too good to be just average, but not good enough to be excellent. This leaves you disappointed because you will not be satisfied with a job that an average student might get, but you would also not be able to secure a job that those top students can. The same applies for the pursuit of higher education.

So how exactly do we manage to overcome this crisis? For this, I came up with an analogy. Consider the organizational structure of a pack of wolves: you have the Alphas, the Betas and the Omegas. The alpha is the biggest baddest wolf; basically the leader of the pack. The Alpha is strong, huge, handsome, and hence gets the best meat from the hunt and all the females. Next up are the multiple Betas. These wolves are not big enough to be an alpha, but are close contenders for the same. If the Alpha were to die, or get injured, or simply challenged to a duel, the Betas would fight to the death to become the next Alpha. Bottom line, the Betas are big and bad but second to Alphas. The Omegas, however, are the ones that have it worst. They are not too strong, or leader-like, but neither are they weak enough to be chucked out of the pack. The omegas are usually the scapegoats, the ones that get killed or are exiled from the pack for not being bad enough. So what happens to those omegas that survive and are exiled? More often than not, these wolves are absorbed into other packs as betas, or some of the lone omegas might even get together to form their own pack where the strongest of them form the Alpha and the rest are the Betas and Omegas. The cycles goes on. 

Now comes the analogy part. We people also have a similar organizational structure as wolves. There are the pretty looking, high achievers that can smart their way through situations and are usually successful when absorbed into a company. These are analogous to Alphas. Then, there are those pretty lookers/high achievers (either one) who can either flirt their way through or work their way through situations in life. These people are usually quick thinking opportunistic betas that strive to retain their beta status or upgrade to an alpha status. Finally, the omega people - the ones who are neither that pretty, nor that smart. They aren’t dumb and ugly, but they aren’t pretty or smart enough to make it as a beta. These people have a hard time keeping their heads up in situations, and usually burn out of their jobs, or are chucked out for a better replacement. They are the ones who either find a place for themselves in another company that better suits their level, or end up as start-up founders or co-founders. Bottom line: Everyone ends up surviving eventually. Some may suffer a bit, or a lot, but in the end you will survive. Who knows, you may even become an Alpha at some point? Until then, keep fighting and learn to hope without getting disappointed by failures. At the end of the day, we’re all soldiers, returning home after fighting the battles of life. So lick your wounds, and learn from your scars - learn to not get wounded, and learn to survive.

Until next time.

#life #advice #survive #disappointment #wins and losses #yolo

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Dear Anonymous,

In lieu of the fact that tumblr isn’t quite accessible to people on the internet, I have also decided to post in parallel in a google blogger account. The link to it is given below:

http://quintessential-queer-indian.blogspot.com/

Hope this will help fellow rainbow-mates out there to know that there are people out there, like me, who might understand those abstract thoughts they might have.

Just to clarify, I will post here as well as I love the tumblr UI. The same content will also be posted on the blogger link.

Until next time.

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

I’m not ashamed anymore

Dear Anonymous,

Today I was watching a series of videos about LGBT film trailers, reactions, which lead YouTube to suggest me some videos that had clips from movies about gay people coming to terms with their sexuality and trying to get their loved ones to accept it. There were quite a few of them - some happy, some sad, and some were downright depressing. However, all of them had one thing in common: in all of them, the person coming out was portrayed to be apologetic, or guilty. That is when it struck me; why do we need to apologize for who we are. Why is it that who I am attracted to is used to define me, and typecast me? Why should I have to tell people that I like people of my own gender, or of all genders, as if I am confessing to some crime? 

I have been very lucky to never have suffered any issues with accepting this part of me. I have never been a stereotypical guy - avid sports fan, or super into video games. At no point in my childhood have I ever been a typical boy. I have always been a quiet, shy, introvert who loves reading or watching TV and would rather prefer staying at home to going out with a huge group of friends and having fun. I have always found it much easier to befriend girls, so much so that I used to have lunch with girls only and it wasn’t until much later that I realized that I was being “conspicuous”. Along with the entry to middle school, came adolescence for most boys, however I was spared that pesky phase of my life for almost a year as I was studying a year ahead. During this phase, boys started behaving differently around girls; they would act awkward around girls, for example, they would not talk properly with them or make eye contact. This was also accompanied by giggles from girls and whispers from groups of boys. However, my dynamic with my girl classmates never changed, which made me an object of envy to my fellow boy classmates. When I did reach the adolescence phase, I never realized that my likes were different from those of other boys my age - owing to the fact that I had a deplorable lack of male peers in my circles. It wasn’t until I was 11, was I made aware of the existence of something called homosexuality, which my mother whispered under her breath, as if it were a taboo word. Even then, the dense me couldn’t catch a clue. It wasn’t until I was 14, when I realized that things weren’t typical in my case. Of course, then came my revelation (refer to my previous posts). What is surprising is that even when I realized that I was attracted to men, I never thought of it as something embarrassing. I hated the word “gay” because it was used to describe anyone who wasn’t “man” enough to be a pubescent teenager. It was the stigma attached to the word that made me hate it. Pretty soon, it was clear to me that even though I was cool about being gay, people around me wouldn’t. My orthodox parents as well as my super-religious school would not be kind to someone who is “troubled by such a mental illness *tut tut*”.

That being said, I never had an issue with accepting my sexuality; if I did have an issue, it was with how my sexuality was supposed to define me and how being gay is akin to sacrilege. “Gay” was a slur, a word that was used instead of “fag” because India wasn’t progressed enough to keep in track with the Western slangs and lingo. So when I watch all those kids coming out to their loved ones, with such embarrassment in their eyes, I feel outraged. Not at them, or their embarrassment, but at the fact that liking someone apart from the opposite gender is something so huge that ought to define you as a person. Take a look around, people. Everyone around you is different. Different in terms of appearance (short, tall, fair, dark, fat, thin etc), culture, upbringing, social and economic status, family (nuclear, joint, divorced etc). Then why is it that being a homosexual, which is as much in our control as being straight or being fair or tall, is such a huge thing? Why is my sexual preference so important to the world? Why do you give a fuck about who I wish to fuck? 

We try to spread awareness about the existence of differences and variations in humanity as such, and we try to drive an important point into the minds of people - being different is what is being normal. Even identical twins have differences in likes and dislikes, personalities, etc. However, being different only isolates us, or at least it seems so. There comes a point when we are all so isolated from the rest of the world due to our differences that we are all loner islands. What we fail to realize at the end of the day is that we may be islands, but we are an archipelago - a group of interconnected islands. All of us share the same fabric of our existence; all of us are homo sapiens. The day we realize that will be the day when coming out will be no different from announcing a career choice. I sincerely hope that such a day comes in the future, at least later, if not during my lifetime , all over the world; a day when being gay is not a source of embarrassment. 

Until next time.

#gay #gay in india #coming out #life #normal #differences #sexuality #lgbtqa #love is love

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Dear Chris, The moment I stumbled upon your blog (trust me you don't wanna know how :p) I knew I had to write to you. Why? I'm not really sure, the 'what?' is little shaky as well but the Harry Potter and Series of Unfortunate Events references make me think books would be a safe ice breaker. With that in mind, have you read 'The Upside of Unrequited'? granted it's not 'Simon Vs. the Homosapien Agenda' hilarious but hey, it's hard to top that one. Hopefully there is a next time, Anonymous

Hey there Anonymous,

Sorry I took so long to reply. I have indeed read “The Upside of Unrequited”. The term unrequited strikes a unique chord in me - by that, I mean I am attracted to anything that says “unrequited love” (lol). It was pretty amazing. I liked the writing a lot and I could find lots of ways to relate to the characters as well. 

I am surprised that my blog is even visible lol. Always love to have someone write to me. I promise to be more regular in the future.

Cheers!

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Settle? I think nah!

Dear Anonymous,

This is my first post in a really long time, I know. It’s just that sometimes life is just so uneventful that you really have nothing to share with the anonymous readers on the net. However, on this fine Friday morning, I have been frustrated about something that might seem trivial to most. Nevertheless, I’m going to share it with you guys.

Yesterday, my friends pointed out the fact that I’m a 20 year old who has never even gotten to first base. They suggested I correct this problem by going onto Grindr. As I might have mentioned before, my experiences with Grindr have always been bitter-sweet, except I’ve never had the patience to stick around on that godforsaken app long enough to experience the sweet part. I mean, there is a limit to how much of “ASL” and “Likes” and “Sexy pics bro” I can take. (Seriously! Sexy pics *bro*? If I’m your “bro”, and you want to see my sexy pics, you’ve confused me with Cersei). All those traumatic experiences popped up in my head when my friends insisted “I get some”. However, I decided to give it another try. Who knows, maybe 20 is a good time to try it out? (Disclaimer: I end up frustrated and end up on the edge of deleting the app, renouncing my sexuality and become an ascetic.)

So, I created an account once again for the 15th time. Recently, one of my friends had taken this extremely cute candid of mine and the totally anti-photogenic me made that picture my DP everywhere. I thought - might as well make it my DP here as well. As is customary, for the first 72 hours, my profile would be boosted because I’m “new” on Grindr. This meant more taps and DMs. To be honest, my idea was to find someone convenient – someone in my college whom I could go out with during the free time in college and not risk my parents finding their extremely introverted son having a sudden change of personality by “hanging out with a random friend”. However, I had hard luck finding such a match, as expected. I spent of the rest of the evening taking tasteful face-pics and semi-nudes and full-nudes and all sorts of pictures people usually ask. (If you must know, yes. I am a disgusting people-pleaser. So shoot me!). All throughout my “photoshoot”, I kept hoping I wouldn’t have to use them right away. As is typical, I got a lot of DMs asking where I am from and if I “hv place” or if I give “gud masage” (*cringing hard*). A few people who asked for pics got what they wanted – but they apparently did not like what they saw because they literally left me on read. But hey, no hard feelings, right? Stuff like this happens all the fucking time. Anyway, I took it in my stride and beared with the NP=NR=NI and no chub fems and other stupid comments. The one person I did find from my own college turned out to be, to say the least, neurotic. I can handle weird - I’m weird. But this guy got on my nerves because apparently he was “too shy” to tell me his name or even where he was from (which state).

After all this, I was exhausted. Mind you, this was all within 20 hours of being on that devil app. At that point, my self-esteem and body image was at a whole new nadir. To give a contrast, let me tell you that the Grindr my bestie created for me in San Diego received far more tasteful responses and offers for dates and not just “wanna fun”. This was when I realised something – I hated it. I hated having to go onto a hook-up app in order to solve the barrenness of my love life. While I was going through all this, my friends (the ones who nudged me into this hellhole) were “freaking out” about their dates – these dates were hot; the kind of guys whom people would stalk on Instagram (guilty as charged). What made it worse was that these guys wanted to go out with my friends and have, on more than one occasion, asked them out point-blank as well as hinted indirectly using shirtless snaps; whereas my friends were skeptical about giving in too early, and whether it would be better if they could prolong this game of flirtation.

While all of this was going on, I came to realise that whatever happens, I can never have all of what they have. I’m not just talking about the fact that a maximum of 3% of the male population identify as gay or bi, but also the general attitude of gay/bi guys as compared to straight guys. Gay guys tend to be much more critical of the physical appearances of the guys they want to sleep with -- mind you, gay guys in India don’t seek relationships. The ones who do, are lucky enough to meet their S.O. outside of the traditional ways of dating. This constitutes a measly part of the entire population. That is when I had an epiphany: I am trying to fit a round peg in a square hole. I had built this image in my mind - walking hand-in-hand with a guy, doing things that straight couples do, and having more than just a physical connection, all while being 20 years old and looking out for guys my age. Unfortunately, that is just as real as Disney Movies. It’s a fantasy - to experience love the same way straight people do. Growing up among straight people, trying to fit into the heteronormative society, one’s view of everything is based on what we observe in majority, whilst failing to understand that you belong to a minority and hoping that a dream that the majority has can be an exact fit for you makes you naive. Hence, I came to the conclusion that I ought to not just readjust my picture of an ideal romance, rather I ought to throw it out altogether.

That is my rant for the day. It feels good to put out stupid random thoughts onto the internet. Because frankly, nobody cares about what anyone else thinks. The internet is a place where people do know how to mind their own business. 

Until next time.

#gay #life #india #gay in india #grindr #hopeless #awkward #desperate for love #rant

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

My first love

Dear anonymous,

In my previous post, I had mentioned about a certain person I had great unrequited feelings of love for. This is that story.

In my second year of college, I had the opportunity to start afresh. Due to a choice that we were offered at the end of our first year, our classes got shuffled and I was with a different set of classmates (for those who aren’t familiar with the Indian system of college education, just think of it as an extension of HS where you are to sit in the same classroom with teachers coming and going as per the schedule and your classmates remain the same too). Also, a new system was brought into place that allowed students the freedom to choose their courses and faculty. This brought about a degree of freedom and a randomness in classmates. Anyway, the second year lead to me meeting a new group of friends who I had the good fortune of sharing most classes with. We instantly clicked and I became a part of a loose “group” of friends. 

It was the first class of the semester and I’d met these new friends (who are still my friends at present). In this group of people was a guy who instantly caught my eye and stopped my breath. The moment I saw him, I knew that he was going to cause a hell of a tornado in my life. As usual, the attraction was mainly physical. To quote Hannah Baker from 13 Reasons Why: “That smile... That damned smile”. In his case, it was everything about him - the way he talked, laughed, looked. At first, I treated it as any normal crush like the ones I’d talked about before. It took me a little while getting used to being around someone who I considered so hot. He was in a few of my classes and very soon, he became quite a good friend of mine. This meant that we would hang out even outside of class. It was a weekend, almost four weeks into the new semester, and I was at home with nothing to do but watch a few sitcoms. However, something was off about me that weekend and the past few weekends before that as well. I had lost my appetite and I often found myself counting down the number of hours left for the next working day to start. This particular weekend, I was texting a friend and I spoke out my weird feelings to her - I felt like my time with him was limited, in the sense that he won’t stick around for much longer. It was very weird and uncomfortable, so much that I felt sick to my stomach. It was at that moment I realized that I was in too deep.

The next few weeks were torture because I realized that it was no longer just a crush; it was much more than that. I started fantasizing and considering our after-class hangouts as “dates” and I would buy him food. I would stroke his hair and touch him a lot, although he never thought too much of it because I wasn’t out to any of my friends at that time (he probably considered it “bromance”, which I feel is utter bullshit). After climbing up 14 floors for a class, my fatass self would huff and pant while he, who was extremely fit, would be totally normal. There was this one time where he even kept his hand on my chest to feel my heartbeat and kept my hand on his, in order to compare how fast mine was - an indication of how unhealthy I was *rolls eyes*. There was a few other incidents like this that brought me to a point of anime-style nosebleed. He used to stay in the hostel, and he asked me to accompany him to his room one day. When we went there, he took off his shirt to change into a t-shirt and that caused my second figurative nosebleed. He once showed me a shirtless pic he has sent to his girlfriend, just to show how “chutiya” he was (for those who don’t know what chutiya means, google it 😜). There were a few more of such occasions.

By the end of that semester, I was head-over-heels in love with him. Not infatuated, but in love. I could not stop thinking about him. Due to his scant social media presence, I tricked him into letting me take a few pictures of him (with help from my good friend) and I would stare at those pictures for hours together. I loved every single thing about him, and I know now that he had great respect for me too back then. The 2 month winter break between the semesters was pure torture because I could never see him or text him (he did not own a smartphone *rolls eyes*). The new semester started two weeks before Valentine’s Day (a day I dread with every fiber of my existence because of my extremely uninteresting love life), which was the day on which he broke up with his long-distance girlfriend. This brought him into an extra-horny flirty phase where he was looking for a rebound. The downfall started there. His personality changed and people around me saw it, but I was blinded by my emotions. He stopped hanging out with me after classes, as he would go to visit a girl he was interested in. I once saw him sitting with her on a staircase and my heart cracked audibly. That was the butterfly’s wing that caused the hurricane. I completely lost my mind and went into a dark, depressed shell. At that point, there was only one thing that could help me - confessing. This would mean that I’d have to come out to my other friends as well. One of them had already found out the previous semester. 

So one fine Saturday, I drafted a letter that conveyed all of my feelings and emotions. I had also clearly stated that I knew very well that he was straight and that confessing would help me move on. I wrote the final version of the letter and put it in an envelope addressed to him. That Monday, I thrust it into his hands after a class and ran away as fast as I could. My friends knew about this plan and were helping me out by texting me his reactions (which were very limited tbh). Later, he met me after the last class and returned the letter to me and said that I should be careful with it lest it fall into unwanted hands. He did not say much, just that it was foolish of me to have ever thought that he could have been homophobic (which is why I ran). One of my friends told me that after I’d given him the letter and he had gone to the next class, he told her that he had absolutely no idea about any of it. 

It would have been so much easier if it were just that; but things had to get even worse. Soon, I came back to my senses and saw him for who he truly was. He had absolutely no considerations about my emotions and treated me as if it were all some big joke. A lot of things happened that is way too personal to be shared with even you, my reader, that lead me to see the truth. At present, he is no longer a part of my friends group. In fact, none of my friends even like him or care about him because of who he had become after the break-up. 

What I took home from this whole experience is that love makes you incredibly daft and clueless about the truth. Lol, just kidding. That’s not it. It was a great experience albeit painful, and I learnt a lot from my mistakes. I realized that it would only hurt me if I ever let myself fall so deeply for someone whom I know so little about, and whom I know I have no future with. Since then, I’ve trained myself to only ever admire eye-candies from afar and see them for what they are - physically attractive people, that’s all. After experiencing unrequited love so many times, one becomes much wiser. I tried to convince myself that I would be someone who isn’t destined to be loved by anyone. It works for a while, until my stupid hope shatters any progress I’ve made. For now, I tell myself one thing that helps me sleep at night - all in good time. This could mean that I might find someone special when the time is right; or it could mean that when the time is right, I would finally truly internalize the fact that I may never get to be in a two-sided love, but that does not matter because maybe I’d finally stop overvaluing the feeling of “love” so much.

Until next time,

Happy Existence.

#blog #gay #gay life #queer #love #heartbreak #story #life #lifestyle #my life #life lessons

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

My experiences with love

Dear anonymous,

If a person gets close enough to me, they would have one point about me etched in their mind - I am a person who overvalues the idea of “love”. To me, love is something that cannot be described by words; it is a connection of emotions, feelings and the raw “heart” (in the “feeling center of the body” context). When you’re in love, you’ll know it. It is a gut-wrenching emotion which, like a virus, takes over your mind and body. Think of love as a flu that is hard to get rid off, except the figurative blocked nose and sore throats are something that the patient enjoys. Yes, if it isn’t clear yet, I have very mixed feelings about love.

Let me tell you about my run-ins with love. I am 20, and till date whatever feelings of love I have experienced for someone has always and irrefutably been unrequited. I am literally the master of unrequited love. In my 7 years of adolescence, where I have grown from puberty-ridden teen to a pseudo-adult who still shows signs of puberty (pimples on my face; don’t ask... *sigh*), I have gone soft on many guys. However, there are only 3 that stand out. I am not going to name them, so I will refer to them as A, B, and C.  

A was my first major crush. He was my classmate in school through 11th and 12th grade (equivalent to Junior and Senior HS years). Even though he was my classmate since 11th, I somehow never took notice to him until the end of that year. I knew he was straight - he even had a girlfriend. Towards the end of 11th, I started getting attracted to him. At first, it was purely physical. In fact, if I’m being completely honest, my attraction to him was mostly physical. He was damn cute, and I found each and every action of his adorable. I made the grave error of picking him as a project partner; a project which accounted for a huge part of the grade. I knew that he had picked me because I did pretty well academically, and I had the reputation of being sincere, so much so that I used to be the teacher’s pet in most classes (it is funny as to how that is just lame and not braggy in any way 😂). He was a wonderful partner; sincere and smart. The mistake, however, was that I got to be in close proximity to him for hours together. This lulled me into a sense of love which I later realized, was just an infatuation. Gutsy as I am on text, towards the end of HS, I texted him about my feelings for him and what I thought about him. He was weirded out, but I knew that he would not out me to my classmates because it would make him a part of the laughing stock too. Very soon, school ended and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.

The next inevitable phase of my life was engineering. When I had a choice to pick from two reputed private universities (I did not qualify for a decent stream in a decent public college aka IIT), I chose my current university based on a small review I had read somewhere on Quora about acceptance of homosexuality among students. There were other factors too, don’t get me wrong. Anyway, on orientation Day 1, I had a wonderful experience. (*Spoiler alert!* This is where i meet B).

I was sitting in an empty auditorium, an hour early to the orientation session on the first day of college. As the auditorium started getting filled up, I noticed this cute guy who caught my eye. As my luck would have it, he sat in the row right behind mine. On the first day, everyone wants to make conversation because you want to portray your best image on the first day in this new chapter of life. Naturally, I was making conversation with a few other guys who sat beside me. Lucky for me, I happened to get acquainted to a guy who was a natural extrovert, thus satisfying rule #1 of being safe from ragging - staying in a group. As the conversation proceeded, the cute guy I’d spotted started feeling slightly left out and so he chimed in too. However, since he was sitting in the row behind us, he couldn’t play an active part. I took the opportunity and asked him if i could sit next to him. What is better than a cute, loner guy who hasn’t found any friends yet. B was my first friend and crush I had in my university. I knew very soon that he was straight but my stupid heart won’t take such trivial information into consideration. He and I had quite a lot of fun during the orientation week, but things came to a screeching halt very soon owing to the fact that he and I were in different departments and didn’t have any classes together. We still corresponded over text, but soon that faded. During the second semester, I made a new friend. To date, she is one of my closest friends. This friend, who is a fellow yaoi manga fanatic, decided that him being straight is not pertinent and that he and I could still flirt a bit. She tried to bring us closer by inviting him to have lunch with us but as fate would have it, he had already found a girl whom he was attracted to and my friend changed course and abandoned my lost cause (a topic that caused a huge fight amongst us). Towards the end of the first year, I confessed to him over text that I liked him and that I knew nothing could happen. I even joked and said that he was welcome to set me up with any other gay guy, if he knew any. 

My feelings for B were a mixture of infatuation and friendship. As unusual a combination it was, I got more attracted to him with every successive interaction. It started out as a physical attraction, and it eventually evolved into something more. I started liking him as a person too, and not just a piece of eye-candy. Here is where I would like to divulge an important lesson I’ve learnt about love: love clouds your senses and makes you a little blind and dumb; just enough to let you regret it after it’s over. I had been completely oblivious to the fact that as cute and charming as B was, he was equally dumb and banal. He was just another average run-of-the-mill straight guy who was totally mismatched to me. He was into sports and gym, while I was into acing in academics. I hate sports, but as I said, love makes you do weird things. I tried showing an interest in the sport he pursued, a vain effort in retrospect. However, I do consider B as a major milestone in my (sad excuse of a) love life, for a lack of better words. This is because he was my first consistent love interest for a whole year in college. This was my second encounter with unrequited love. 

My third encounter is a huge story, which I’ll share some time later. For now, just know that C is not a pretty story. He was my first actual love. His story has been integral in shaping my opinion about love. The main idea I wanted to convey in this post is this: people around me often take love for granted. They have relationships with people they don’t truly love, and they also have a fair share of people whom they have lead on (voluntarily or involuntarily). These people do not care too much when they get confessed to, and are often insensitive in their replies. To them, I have a message:

You have the great fortune of not knowing how it feels to not be loved by anyone in this world. By that, I do not mean the love that your parents have for you, or the love shared between siblings or best friends. I mean love, as manufactured by sappy rom-coms and Disney movies. Trust me when I say this; it is a whole new world of lonely when you realize that there is not a soul in your social circle who likes you, or finds you attractive, or crushes over you. My whole life has been like that. After a point, you start wondering: Is it me? Am I truly that hideous and unlikable that there isn’t a single soul out of the 800 odd Facebook friends and Instagram followers who is attracted to me? You start doubting your self-worth, because as unfortunate as it is, it is an innate evolutionary requirement for humans to feel loved. So when you crush someone’s heart while rejecting their feelings for you, remember how lucky you are to be in that position - where a person actually likes you enough for him/her to put down their self-respect and reveal their vulnerable side to you. It is a privilege that not everybody enjoys...

Until next time,

Happy existence.

#blog #gay #gay life #queer #love #lifestyle #story #unrequited love #crush

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

I am totally and completely in love with this video. The poetic way in which the raw truth has been conveyed, it just hits the right notes. I have literally watched this video 13 times in the past 2 days. 14 if you count just now.

Do give it a watch!

#blog #homophobia #gay #gay life #video #bbc scotland #beautiful #poetic

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Coming out?

Dear Anonymous,

One of the most frequently asked questions to a queer person (queer referring to a person who identifies with any sexuality on the broad spectrum) is whether they wish to come out of the proverbial closet. This expression is used to describe the process of telling people, be it near and dear ones or random acquaintances, about the “unique” lifestyle choices that one makes owing to their anomalous sexuality/gender. Personally, I feel that this process is given way too much importance than it should be. Telling people about who gets me horny is something irrelevant. I do not like the process of coming out, not only because it is hard and uncomfortable, but also due to the fact that the moment I tell the world I’m gay, that becomes my identity. I become “that gay guy”. It doesn’t matter if I am a successful professional, or a humanitarian, or a volunteer at an animal shelter - all people can see is the rainbow flag on top of my head. 

This doesn’t mean that I disapprove of people who come out. I believe that they have immense courage and a great awareness of their self-worth and individuality. To swim against the waves and stand one’s ground, to announce to the world that I am not ashamed of who I am, what gender I identify myself with, or what gender makes me hard/wet, it takes a great deal of guts. I admire that. What I disapprove of is how the world views it when a person comes out and shares their deepest secrets and clears any and all self-doubt: as a person who is gay, lesbian, bisexual, pansexual, asexual, transgender, gender-fluid etc. Not someone who has way more courage than the anonymous faces in the crowd, but as a person defined by their sexual preference or gender identity. I mean, come on, people! Do you need a grammar lesson? Gay is an adjective. So is queer, bisexual, asexual or any of the words that come under the huge umbrella of LGBTQIA+. What is the first thing that we have learnt about adjectives? They are used to qualify nouns, not define them. A big apple qualifies the apple, but that is it. Does that mean that apples are henceforth to be referred to as “the big one”? *eye roll*

That being said, I must confess that I have had my fair share of coming-outs (comings-out? idk). At present, almost all of my closest friends know that I’m gay. These friends include, surprisingly, equal number of males and females (I haven’t had the pleasure of making acquaintance with a transgender person). As I had mentioned before, coming out is a very personal experience and is something that makes friendships more intimate. To quote Albus Dumbledore: “It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends”. Telling your friends, who knew you as a normal straight dude/gal, that you’re about as straight as a dog’s tail requires a lot of courage. Luckily, all the people I’ve come out to have greeted me with nothing but support and love. However, you can’t always count on such luck.

So, let me give you, my reader, an insight into my coming-out experiences. Initially, there is this feeling of anxiety as to how they would react. Would they be supportive or would they disapprove? Or would they be ignorant? Would they view you differently? Would your friendship change? Would they treat you different? These questions are often unnerving. Nevertheless, they help you prepare yourself. The mind, being a beautiful creation, tends to have a remarkable coping mechanism called imagining the worst case scenario. These unnerving questions help create a worst case scenario in your mind. So what if the friend starts treating you differently? It just proves that the friend isn’t really a good friend because good friends do not judge and mistreat you based on your preferences. Not to the point of crossing the boundary between humor and offense. If this friend reacts poorly, it is for the best because having no friends is better than having such friends. 

Then comes the actual conversation. Now, if you recall, I am a hardcore introvert. I am very shy and when I feel uncomfortable or embarrassed or anxious, I consciously avoid eye contact. It is a terrible habit but I’ve come to accept it. Therefore, I usually resort to coming out via text. I am a great texter. I love texting and I am quite good at giving advice, consolations, and sharing anecdotes while texting. Anyway, most of the people I’ve come out to have been made known about it through text. This method works very well because this way, you do not see the first reaction of the person. Oftentimes, a person’s reaction to surprise/shock is not a welcome one. Not seeing the person’s face/hearing their voice would help shield you from their unguarded reaction to the bomb you’ve just dropped. Also, this gives them enough time to listen, comprehend, digest and come out with a thoughtful response, which is what truly reflects their belief. However, I have come out via other means too - through a letter, and face-to-face. The latter works best on impulse because impulse is the rawest and purest form of gut and guts are all that matter while coming out.

In the off chance that you encounter a hostile reaction towards your coming out, finish off the conversation thread politely and remove yourself from the presence of the person. This is the best way to cope with the worst case scenario. We all know that it is much harder to break up with a bestie than a boy/girlfriend. However, it is for your best to end a toxic relationship with such a person. In the end, you must remember that you were strong, confident and courageous. You have accepted yourself so well that you are comfortable with who you are. That is what matters.

I usually try to have fun with the way I come out. I try to refrain from using the words gay, homosexual, queer etc. explicitly and try to play a game of “Taboo”. It is important to have fun and lighten the mood. And if you are on the receiving side of a coming-out confession, then you could lighten the mood with a few witty lines too, so long as you ensure that you support your friend. One of my friends said “I maybe blind [he wears glasses], but I’m not stupid” and another one guessed spot-on who I had a crush on, the moment I told her. 

For now, I hope this helps. I have a few interesting anecdotes regarding this topic but I felt that letting you know what exactly is my stand on this issue took greater priority. Remember that telling your secret is your choice alone. You must never feel pressured to tell anyone if you don’t feel like it. And if you do want to let it out of your chest then don’t overthink it. Go for it! What is the worst that could happen? :)

Until next time,

Happy Existence.

Ciao!

#blog #gay #india #coming out #personal #story #advice #my life #self love

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

How will my family react?

Dear Anonymous,

I get asked this question quite often by my friends. It bothers me too, at times. I do not have siblings, so essentially, I will have to tell my parents at some point because they have and will be playing an active role in my life. I do not boast about being a great secret-keeper, because I’m not. However, I have managed to keep my sexuality and all its related occurrences and events a secret from my parents. In this, I agree I’m selfish. I fear their disapproval and/or being kicked out onto the streets because of who I am (as is the case for a lot of people around the world and in India too, who face similar problems).

I love my parents and I have worked hard, all my life, to ensure that they remain proud of me. They love me too. My mother has devoted her entire life to me ever since she has had me. She has always tried to make my life easier by helping me with academics, taking up teaching jobs in my school so as to familiarize herself with the environment I have to spend 1/3rd of my day in. She is well read, but unfortunately, quite narrow-minded; especially when it comes to the issue of sexuality and gender issues. She believes that gay men, while they may not have a choice, should restrict themselves and lead a life of bachelorhood rather than embrace an “unnatural and unconventional” lifestyle. She has asked me, more than once, how I would react if one of my friends is gay. She has even speculated, humorously, what her thoughts would be if I were to come out as gay and I’ve always shrugged it off.

My father is an extremely bright individual. He has always shone in every field he has set his foot in - academics, career, philosophy and spiritualism. However, he could be on of the living examples to the statement that knowledge need not open your mind. He is a laconic person - a man of few words. But when he speaks, his opinion rings loud and clear. On most matters, said opinion is thoughtful, insightful and very apt; that is not the case with the issue of homosexuality. Unlike my mother, my father chooses to ignore the existence of such concepts and attributes it to “Western influence” and “movies”.

It is quite a conundrum as to how exactly am I going to tackle the “coming out” situation with my parents. It needs to be carefully thought out, in order to minimize any damage to feelings and sentiments. I do hope that I will have the strength to tackle this hurdle in the future. I am terrified of it, but I know that it is unavoidable. Hopefully, I would have enough accolades to erase whatever black marks may be caused by my sexuality (from their perspective). In the end, I hope that their love for me and vice versa would be strong enough to overcome this difference of opinion. Nevertheless, my first step towards tackling this hurdle is to make a future for myself - a future that would speak volumes about how capable I am to be happy despite all odds; I plan to achieve this by moving to Canada or the US and pursuing higher education and try my best to land a job of professorship as that is my dream - to teach. The future may be uncertain, but love conquers all. That is what I have been taught to hope for.

Leaving you with that hope,

Happy Existence.

Arrivederci.

#blog #gay #indian #my life #coming out #story #gay life #family

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

To address the main question(s)

Dear anonymous,

If you are reading this blog, then I am sure you have a few questions in mind. The title in bold is loud and clear. I describe myself to be a “quintessential” (a word which here means “classical” or “traditional” : reference to A Series Of Unfortunate Events if you didn’t catch that 😂), gay Indian. I realize that said title is an oxymoron; irony in the purest form. Hence, I chose the said title. Anyhow, let me get on with answering a few questions that might be on your mind.

How did I come to know?

When I entered high school ie., 9th grade, I had completed 1 year in my new school, which happened to be my 8th and last school I’ve studied in. To be honest, I hated my school. My classmates were mean, and my class teacher was the devil incarnate (That’s a story for another time). Basically, it was a typical high-school experience. However, amidst the teenage angst and raging hormones, I made a few friends. Three girls. It’s no surprise that most of my friends were girls because I never really “got” boys my age - talking about sports and video games. 

At first, these girls and I started talking about random stuff - how boring school was and how dumb things were, in general. After they warmed up to me (or me to them), they started involving me in conversations about boys. We would chat on FB for hours about Ian Somerhalder and Enrique Iglesias. Now, you should know that I wasn’t totally sure back then, so I couldn’t exactly understand my feelings. I appreciated their insane good looks a lot, but I construed it to be a form of envy. It was only in 10th grade that I realized that it wasn’t envy but lust (one biblical sin for another lol). 

The exact moment when I realized was towards the end of the summer break in 9th grade. I was a horny teenager who was given my dad’s old laptop. I did not have the guts to search for porn as such. So I tried for the next best thing - YouTube. I created a fake account which had my age as 31 and I watched a few “steamy” videos. Incidentally, I came across a video of two men “getting it on” with each other and when I watched it, I was not turned off. Instead, I got curious. And thus began my realization.

My first experience?

You should know that at this point in time, I am a virgin. In fact, I haven’t even made out with anyone. I have never experienced romance or have taken part in a gay relationship. However, I have had a certain experience of “watching each other jerk-off” with one of my classmates in 10th grade. But it has never escalated from there. Sadly 😢.

For now, let me leave it at this. I will answer a few more questions in the coming posts. Hope that you, my dearest readers, are satisfied with my posts. If I can even reach one soul who could make an example of my experiences and develop a hope to lead a normal life, then my purpose is being fulfilled. I say this because most of my support in this matter relies on those stray experiences shared by random people, that made me realize that I am not alone.

Happy Existence.

Ciao!

#blog #my life #gay #indian #question #story #experience

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

Who am I?

Dear anonymous,

Call me Chris.

“Anonymous” is what I’m gonna refer to anyone who is reading this (if at all someone is 😅). To start off, let me introduce myself.

I am a 20 year old guy from India. I am (no surprises here) an engineer in the making and unfortunate participant in the “brain drain”. Don’t get me wrong; I love India. It’s a great country with the widest assortment of people. However, being a closeted homosexual for the past 8 years, I have realized that I have a next-to-nil future here. So, like any other engineer hailing from the upper-middle class, I have set my eyes on the “Canadian dream” (American Dream is too mainstream for me 😜.

I am an introvert. A hardcore, finishing-assignments-week-before-deadline, 9+ CGPA student, nerd (proud to be one btw). I love watching movies and TV series (English, European, and Asian; not so much into Indian, except for a few  exceptionally good Hindi, Tamil or Malayalam movies). I read a bit, but resort to scrolling through my Instagram feed (because Facebook is too mainstream for me apparently *rolls eyes at myself*) or watching random YouTube videos. I breathe YouTube. It’s my coffee. I am into manga and anime, although I can’t really proclaim to be an otaku. I love learning new languages. Currently, I know English, Tamil, and Hindi fluently and have a good understanding of Japanese, Korean, and French. 

My dream is to become a professor in a university, preferably in a cold place (I love winters). I love to teach and I have been told that I have a talent for it too. Alternatively, I would like to polish my polyglot capabilities and take up a job in professional translation for corporate, government, or if I’m lucky, the UN. My dream also includes a fireplace, hot cocoa, snuggles with my husband (preferably hot; K. Just Kidding) and my dog(s). (I love dogs. I think I might have 2 or 3 of them lol). 

I guess this is intro is good enough. Now, I can’t promise to post very frequently, as I am vigorously in pursuit of Happyness (said Canadian dream). However, if you are reading this, then I assure you that you will get a view of things from my perspective. I hope to not disappoint.

Until then,

Happy Existence.

Ciao!

#blog #gay #indian #intro #random #thoughts #my life

[quintessential-queer-indian-blog]

My first post

Dear anonymous people on the internet,

Like you, I too am anonymous. Recently, I have had this recurring wish to blog and share my random thoughts on a platform. So, here I am. I wish to be one of those blogs that will help other souls like me - young adults facing various issues (not necessarily with sexuality) to relate. 

Wishing you a happy existence.

Ciao!

#blog #firstpostever #gay #indian #random #thoughts #musings