Confessions of a Rambunctious WhipperSnapper

Over the past week and a half, India has officially come out of the closet. In a nation which still giggles when someone talks about hetero sex or reproductive organs, there were prime time news broadcasts about how "the gays" like to do it doggie style. While ninety year old grandmothers held a detailed discussion about power bottoms, little kids wrote a paper on the history of S&M as represented in popular gay culture as part of their summer assignment.

Although, not everybody is happy with the rainbow flag suddenly spreading all over the subcontinent. There are people who fear that since the Delhi High Court has opened the floodgates, no one will want to love anyone of the opposite sex anymore which will result in decreased male descendants ultimately causing the untimely demise of this young, vibrant nation whose people will then disappear from the face of the earth and take with them their ancient culture, their movies, the secret recipe of Chicken Manchurian and the ability to convince Dell computer owners to buy more RAM modules everytime they call in to report a faulty keyboard. And then China will take over the vast empty wasteland and turn it into a nation of four year old child factory workers making lots and lots of things which they will then export to the United States so that the illegal Mexican workers can sell them to innocent American consumers through the magic of Walmart.

Okay, that's not what is really going to happen, but you would think that it might be a possibility while listening to all the talking heads on TV predicting the end of civilization as we know it unless all the gay people are sent of to Nazi camps.

Are heterosexual people really that fickle? Can you guys flick a switch or something and start doing it with people of the same sex just like that? Do we need to get you drunk or it's the law that's holding you back? I mean, no offense, but no law can make me want to have sex with a woman. The mere thought makes me want to wash my brain out with some nice shampoo, which has the picture of a hot, showering hunk on it's bottle cover. Sorry ladies, but the 'snapper likes him some peckers. You ain't getting any of this, baby!

Also! We have such a large population in this country that while the rest of the world shrivels and dies, we would still have young people around so that their parents can guilt them into becoming over-achievers by the time they pass first grade.

The other day, I happened to catch this old guy who was on a panel discussion about the HC verdict, and was arguing against it. He said that if two men or woman can have sex with each other, then he should be allowed to have sex his bitch in the privacy of his own bedroom. I was shocked. I was like, C'mon, old man, that's no way to talk about your wife. She can't be that bad. I think he needs to learn to respect her, specially on national television. Tut, tut. such a shame. Is there no morality left in this country?

Of course, the most vocal opponents have been the old faithful, the religious wingnuts. Gay people have achieved something that even the great MK Gandhi couldn't achieve. We have managed to get all the crazy religious people on the same side of an argument.

The first if, of course, is the Roman Catholic Church. These people really need a strong does of irony when they give their tried & tested pedophilia argument. That's because there are more pedophiles in the catholic church than in any other community, except of course, a mormon compound.  If you want to embarrass a catholic priest, just ask him where the little boys room is!

Then of course, comes the self-appointed Hindu high priests. Well, blah, blah, blah, Kama Sutra. Blah, blah, blah, gay sculptures at Khajrao. Next.

As for the Muslim high priests, who I gotta ask if they have you even heard anyone speak Urdu? It's one of the gayest languages of the world. It was used by poets and writers to express their unrequited and forbidden love for someone whom they could never have. Hate to spoil your party, but who else knows better about unrequited and forbidden love than gay people? We've kind of written the book on wanting people we could never have. Like, wtf, Dude!

So, wingnuts,  next time you open your mouth to say something about people who are different, just remember that people who live in glass houses really need to get some curtains. Specially ones which slightly contrast the colour of the room. Maybe a Persian rug to go along with it. Also, the room is best decorated with some antique furniture. If you can't afford antique furniture then you can hire someone who can make cheap trash look classy and elegant.

You can use the same guy Elton John uses to do his his makeup everyday.

I always wondered what it would have been to be an Indian pre-1947. Being born into the country decades after the British had left the country, I always wondered the euphoria the people would have felt at the stroke of the midnight hour on 15 August 1947, when the world slept while India awoke to life and freedom.

Perhaps it is the same feeling that I felt yesterday. While the rest of the country was freed of colonial rule on 15 august 1947, the members of the LGBT community in India was still being treated as second-class citizens in their own country, for simply being who they are.

The judgement of the Delhi High court on 2 July 2009 has finally freed the last section of the population which was still technically under colonial rule. The judgement is historic. It provided hope to millions of people. People who have been persecuted for being who they are. Persecuted for simply wanting to love and be loved. Persecuted for being brave enough to want the rights that were guaranteed to them under the constitution.

Yesterday was India's second tryst with destiny. At the stroke of the afternoon hour, while the world looked on, India awoke to life and freedom, one more time.

The achievement we celebrate today is but a step, an opening of opportunity, to the greater triumphs and achievements that await us. Are we brave enough and wise enough to grasp this opportunity and accept the challenge of the future?

This ruling does not bring with itself social acceptance. There will still be families and friends who disapprove. People will still make still snigger. Nevertheless, the past is over and it is the future that beckons to us now. We have to learn that there will always be people who will discriminate against you because of who you are. Whether it's because of the colour of your skin, your name, your shoe size, the way you style your hair etc.

We don't need acceptance from those people nor we need a "you're moral" character certificate from the "God-hates-you" crowd.

We only need our own acceptance, and the love and support of the people who appreciate us for who we are and not who they would prefer us to be.

Be fabulous. Always.

xoxo

 

_____________________________________________

(Okay, for those who haven't figured it out yet, this post heavily borrows from Nehru's speech that he gave to the constituent assembly on 15 August 1947. I'm sure he would have wanted to say this. He was one of us, after all. Click here for the original. )

I never thought I would see this day in my lifetime.

I think something happened over the past week. Somehow, the world around us has changed.

This is not the end of the fight, but it's just the beginning. We do have a long way ahead.

However, right now I would like to commend the Delhi High Court for being on the right side of history.

I would also like to express gratitude for everyone who did not lose hope and kept fighting and gave a voice to millions of others.

I'll be back when I can write more coherently.

Cheers, everyone. 

When I was old enough to have my own room, I sort of inherited it from my elder siblings. They had a variety of posters in their room because I think that's what kids used to do back then. Now, I removed the Samantha Fox and Bruce Sprigsteen posters because staring at a chic in her drawers was never my thing. However, I let one poster stand. It looked exactly like the one pictured above.

Cause I knew who Michael Jackson was before I could even read or write.

There were many pop acts and artists who were the rage when I was growing up. However, no one was as big as Michael Jackson. Most of my good childhood memories have some kind of Jackson song playing in the background.

Whether it was being thrown out of class and being punished because I wrote the lyrics to Black or White instead of my cursive writing assignment . . .

. . . Or playing basketball with Jam blaring from the boombox.  (Oh, and the song was a pop culture phenomenon. It had the other MJ, Micheal Jordan and who could miss Kriss Kross!!)

I even remember watching him perform during the Grammy awards (back when they actually meant something) in 1988, on bootleg video of the DD broadcast!

 

My and my cousins were actually put his performance on repeat and were dancing along.

When I think about it, it seems so lame. At that time we thought were so cool and so funny! 

 

Hey, we didn't have cable TV or the internet. So how was a brother supposed to pass time?

 

Anyway, some of his songs told me stuff about me which even I didn't know was true!

Seems so ironic now.

Maybe these songs remind me of a time when I wasn't such a cynical, jaded, smartass gasbag. Maybe it's because these songs were our symbol of rebellion, PG-13 style.

Before yesterday, when someone thought of Michael Jackson, it was usually his Wacko Jacko persona.

However, he will be remembered by most people as someone who made great music.

I'd like to say that maybe we will learn from this. Maybe we won't make other children go through the life he went through. Maybe people will finally realize that that fame, celebrity and notoriety is not for everyone. I've read a lot of comments at various places which says that when people become famous, they sign up for the tsunami which is going to change their lives. That it's okay to dehumanise someone because they are rich and famous. Surely there is no schadenfreude behind such a train of thought?

Yes, the jokes and the sleazy tabloid stories will come tomorrow. People will huff and puff for a few minutes while pretend-serious media outlets will cover those stories while their anchors feign outrage all the way to the bank. Even in death, the Michael Jackson story is going to make a lot of people a lot of money.

But today, I'd just like to . . .

 

R.I.P.

Today, early in the morning: (okay, really early in the morning)

*Ring* *Ring* (not actually a ring, but the theme from Mad Men)

Me: Hello

Caller: Hey, watsup . . .

Me: Nothing much really. Long time, eh?

Caller: Yeah, I know . . .

Me: So how's the wife doing?

Caller: She's doing good . . .

Me: . . . When is the baby due?

Caller: What baby?

Me: Er. . . Aren't you guys pregnant?

Caller: No . . .

Me: . . . WHAT HAPPENED?

Caller: We HAD the baby, idiot! That's WHAT happened!

Me: CONGRATULATIONS! When? And why didn't you tell me?

Caller: Last month . . .

Me: LAST MONTH? . . .

Caller: Stop shouting.

Caller: I DID tell you . . .

Caller: . . . And YOU came to visit us in the hospital!!

Me: I did?

Caller: Yes. Twice.

Me: Are you sure?

Caller: Of course I'm sure. It's pretty hard to . . . forget the day your child is born . . .

Me: Yeah, of course.

Caller: . . . . specially because on the first day one of the guards got fired because you wandered in during non-visiting hours . . .

Me: That does sound like something I would do, yeah . . .

Me: . . . however, are you sure that you aren't pulling a prank on me?

Caller: Dude, for the past month I've been knee deep in dirty diapers, I have been dozing off during meetings because I barely get to sleep at night and if I see one more relative wanting to give "good wishes" to my child, I'm going to jump from the terrace.

Caller: So I am hardly in a mood to kid around and pull pranks on someone . . .

Me: Aright . . . chill, don't get so emotional, man . . .

Caller: And since you don't remember, you also gave us a nice gift . . .

Me: Really? I'm so glad you liked whatever I gave you. 

Caller: Yeah, even  ______ likes it. He plays with it all the time.  

Me: You HAD a boy????

Caller: *Click*

 

What'd I say?

I stopped being technologically relevant quite a few years ago. Technology is a tricky thing. You can only keep up to it till a certain point of time. I remember back in the "day" when I all of us who had invitation-only GMail accounts thought we were the über-geek. We used to laugh at all those with just 5 MB (or was it 2 MB?) Hotmail and Yahoo accounts. "You're not using Gmail yet? Really? I don't know how you survive with measly 2 MB of email space. Okay, if you want it that much, I'll send you an invite". For the record, I barely invited less than a dozen people. Why? Because, well, I'm cheap like that.

Anyways, there is a fine line to going from being the only one in your training class to know the difference between 32-bit and 64-bit operating systems to one day tuning into a gadget-oriented TV show and going "They can do THAT now? Ama-fucking-zing!". One really does not know when that line is passed. Hell, I went from espousing the benefits of peer-to-peer networks to discovering BiTTorrent just late last year. Yes, I know. Shameful. However, thankfully, I have over compensated for that.

Of course, that doesn't imply that I've turned totally helpless. I'm Indian. Most of us are probably born with an embedded chip in our memory. I've seen little kids who haven't yet said their first words but have coded their own iPhone application.  Go, figure.

So my almost dead inner geek woke up this morning when I read about this:

   [AP Photo]

Screw WiFi and say halo to my little friend. That's right, bitches. It's called MiFi. The Novatel MiFi 2200. (Sounds less like a wireless device and more like a WMD!)

A wireless hotspot in your pocket.

*Obligatory they-can-do-that-now shrug and head shaking*

As you all know, I am kind of obsessed with the internet. And not just check-email-every-half-hour obsessed. No siree Bob. I need to carry it around with me wherever I go, lest the world starts to end and I miss reading about it. If some natural or unnatural event is going to kill me, I would like to either write a post about it beforehand or at least send a tweet. And if I do have some time, update the status on my facebook. Something like "______ is dying of a really strange disease usually only seen in M Night Shyamalan movies".

Currently, my mobile internet requirements are being serviced by my handy GPRS enabled phone. Now GPRS is good and all, but it's only two notches above a late-90's style dial up 56k connection if you're trying to use it on your computer. Although sometimes, it's a lifesaver. Last year, when i had gone to almost-remote hilly town, the only thing connecting me to the virtual world was my trusty GPRS.  Granted, sometimes it was so slow that you would have to combine web surfing with other activities like reading a book/watching a sitcom/shooting at the local population.

The sad news is that the MiFi device can only work on 3G networks, so it will take a couple of years before being launched in India. We are just getting started on 3G networks. And right now MTNL is the only company offering it. No offense, but I pity the fool who uses MTNL. It's like wearing a jockstrap two sizes smaller than your actual size. We still get an MTNL bill sometimes even YEARS after getting that connection disconnected.

Not that the private operators are better. Recently, my mobile service provider has converted my unlimited data plan to a limited data plan. And the broadband providers are going to follow suit. Now they are going to put caps on unlimited broadband plans. So, pretty soon, when you sign up for a plan which promises unlimited, uninterrupted internet, you are in fact signing up for a, rarely fast, limited-usage account. It's like using two condoms and still ending up pregnant.

I don't use a WiFi at home. That's because basically, I really can't figure it out. And since I'm cheap, I don't want someone else piggybacking on my internet. OMFG, that makes me sound like one of those people who wanted to tea-bag Obama.

However, I'm still looking forward to the launch of this card.

Why? For the simple reason that then I can watch You Tube videos while sitting on the can!

Oh, joy!

Recently, the most common question that I ask everyone is "What day is it today? No, seriously". I actually do lose track of what day, date, month or even what year it is. In fact, I have been using my own personal time standard, in hours are defined by the time left until the next meal and sometimes two, or three "normal" days are clubbed together because I really don't remember them as separate entities anyway.

Not that I am to blame. It happens when one is not gainfully employed. Everyday seems like a Sunday. And not a Sunday in which you know that the next day the grind starts again. No, a Sunday which is followed by another Sunday, which is followed by another Sunday, which in turn is followed by, no prizes for guessing, another Sunday.

So, to me, the past year and a half have been like an extended weekend. (Actually, some people I know would like to call it by a different name, but this is what I've decided upon. An extended weekend. Has a nice ring to it doesn't it? Hi, I'm on an extended weekend. What? Oh, that's part of my work actually. Yes, I specialize in extending weekends. It's a inborn talent, really. No, I don't have any branches. Yet.)

However, there is one thing that even someone as clueless & as intoxicated as me can notice.

I've come to realize that people treat those who are gainfully employed and those who take extended weekends which last more than a year, a tad bit differently. I know. Outrageous, isn't it?

I vividly remember the days when I used to work. By work, I mean laughing at every stupid forward people send and exploring wikipedia for useless trivia (Did you know Mata Hari was actually not a really good spy? Yup. Surprising isn't it? There is so much useless trivia out there, and so little time. Sigh. Also, it only sounds interesting when you are being paid to do something else. Otherwise, who really cares. Pshaw!)

It turns out that a job is like an ass. Everyone seems to have them.

So when you answer the question "So, what are you doing these days?" with the ominous word "Nothing", most people react in a very predictable way.

First, comes the indignation.

"What do you mean by nothing? So you actually aren't doing anything? Nothing AT ALL? Are you crazy?!"

Then comes the surprise.

"Why? What happened? You were doing so well! Are you crazy?"

Then, the weight of the information they have been provided with begins to settle in and a pattern seems to emerge.

"So you're sitting at home? Voluntarily? Why? Are you crazy?"

Then comes the search for plausible excuses.

"Are you sick? No?"

"Are you trying to lose weight? No?"

"Are you studying? No?"

"Are you helping out your family with the business? No?"

Then comes the slight tilt of the head and the first step towards the road of acceptance.

"Awwww. Oh! I'm sure you deserve it. I remember you used to be working so hard".

"Good for you".

"I would never have the guts to do something like this".

Then come the suggestions.

"If you're not busy, you should help out your family with the business".

"If you're not busy, you should study more and add to your resume".

"If you're not busy, you should try losing weight".

"If you're not busy, you should try writing a blog".

"If you're not busy, you should help my son get his wife pregnant".

Then comes the show of fake support along with a huge effort made in trying to encapsulate the overwhelming feeling of jealousy along with a naked attempt to try to make me feel like a loser.

"So you're staying home for the past year doing nothing? So you're doing NOTHING? How do you pass your day?"

"I would go bananas if I had to spend even a day doing nothing! Haha! How do you do it?"

"Aren't you yearning to go back to work?"

"You would have been an ________ by now if you hadn't left your job!"

"What's a blog?"

Then comes what I lovingly call the insane reasoning portion of the evening.

"This is not an age to take a break at. One should only take a break when one's sixty".

"Don't you want to get married?"

"You have to do something. Everyone does something or the other. You can't just sit at home".

"Don't you want to get married and give your parents a few grandchildren to play with?"

"You'll start losing the use of your mental faculties if you keep doing nothing for a long period of time. Stop laughing. It's true. I've seen it happen".

"No one does what they really want to do. So go back to work and get married. It's high time you got settled".

That sums up the conversation with 95% of the people.

One of the things about being jobless is that the "different" treatment you get from people. Suddenly, people find it really awkward to talk to me. And my opinion just does not hold the same value for them as it used to before. People really don't know how to start a conversation with me anymore. And there are so many topics they try to steer clear from. Things they presume that I would get offended by.

We are so used to identifying and associating people with what kind of work they do that it's really hard for us to look beyond that. Even when we introduce ourselves to other people, in most cases, the first thing that really comes out after our names is our occupation or whatever we do for a living. Because even personally, that's our yardstick for defining who we are. I used to do that too. But my "extended weekend" has made me realize that whatever job or line of work you do doesn't have to define who you are. We are so obsessed with titles, positions, the whole concept of "making a name for yourself" that we let it take over our lives. People define success not by how happy they are but by how many weekends they spend replying to work emails on their blackberry. It's in trying to "be somebody" that we lose track of who we really are. I know that because I did.

I'm not trying to knock anyone here. As they say, the road to hell is paved with good intentions.

I, for one, love being treated like a pariah. A few of my friends and some assorted family friends have tried to "turn me around" and "talk some sense into me" but most of the time, they end up projecting. It's funny how the same people who used to tell my parents that they were "so proud" of me, now avoid me like the bubonic plague, even using me as an example of explaining to their children on how not to do things. The general consensus seems to be that I've lost it and that this is more evidence that I am a "spoiled" brat. Well, not that there is anything wrong with that. However, as always, I'm too drunk too care. I don't give a flying f@ck about what these people think anyway!

Yeah, almost everyone treats me differently. Even God. He answers all my prayers with "I'll get to you in a minute, asshole". To be fair, all of my prayers revolve around food and sex. And I guess God thinks that you can only have one of them at a time.

*Chomp Chomp*

Is he trying to tell me something?