Three bigots walk into a bar, and drown it with their stupidity!

So the case against reading down of 377 supreme court is going to be heard sometime this year.

Turns out, there have been a large number of additions to the original petitioner who wanted to criminalize adult consensual sex.

On Saturday, the number of petitioners in the Supreme Court - challenging the July 2009 decision of the Delhi High Court to strike down an anti-sodomy law - stood at 16 from the original two.

Two Christian church coalitions, three Muslim NGOs, two Hindu astrologers, a disciple of yoga guru Baba Ramdev, an NGO run by a former Delhi police officer, and an environmentalist, will be among those in the Supreme Court when it hears an appeal next month against the overturning of the Indian Penal Code' section 377.

Only one person, film director and Rajya Sabha MP Shyam Benegal, has quietly joined the original petitioner, Delhi NGO Naz Foundation, in support of gay rights in the Supreme Court.

Here is what I think of the petitioners:

1) Christian Church Coalitions - Really? I can only give you a fair hearing when you actually punish those members of your clergy who were caught molesting little children. Until then, how about shuting the fuck up on morality? KThanksbai.

2) Three Muslim NGOs - Is having just a single partner the thing you have a problem with? Because, really, I'd expect polygamists to be a little sheepish (Sheep, Also!) about criticizing other people's sexual habits?

3) Hindu Astrologers - Yeah, I'd take you seriously if you'd be able to predict ONE fucking thing correctly. Or that you could see that punch in your fucking face that's in your future!

4) Police Officer NGO - This is the same guy who appeared on tv last year and wanted to have sex with a female dog. And somehow, kept calling his wife a bitch? Confused!

5) Environmentalist - Dude, firstly no one is having buttsex with teh environment. I hope you realize that if it wasn't for Lesbians, there would be no environment to save. Also, I don't have documents to prove it right now, but Mother Earth is probably a big ol' lez too.

Now, here are some of the arguments that are being presented:

Chairman of the Jammu and Kashmir Panthers Party, Prof Bhim Singh, said in his petition that the Delhi High Court ruling would be "a disaster for the Indian defence forces and the security of the country… in deserted areas".

"Seedlings of homosexuality developed among the (European and US) soldiers during the first and the second world war when they had to stay back in the forests and the hills for years without having any access to meet their sexual desires," said Singh, whose party otherwise fights for the reorganisation of J&K.

Yeah, I know!!

Where do I even begin with this guy? So I'm not gonna even try!

But I'm sure he's pulling his arguments out of his own deserted area!

"My challenge of the (Delhi) high court judgement is that it should not have relied on foreign judgements," said Mushtaq Ahmed, counsel for Mumbai's Raza Academy, a 32-year-old Islamic advocacy group. "We can't impose a foreign cultural morality today."

Hey, dude from whatever academy, let's go on a little tour. Thousands of years ago, when India had only one religion and everything was considered Hinduism (Jainism, Buddhism etc.), and everyone had sex with everyone else (it wasn't the land of the Kama Sutra for nothing!) and then some weird people wanted land and money and shit and so they invaded this county and along with themselves brought their religion(s) and their own morality. So, India had homosexuality much before it had Islam or Christianity or mughlai food. Therefore, using your own logic, I could say, STOP TRYING TO IMPOSE YOUR FOREIGN MORALITY ON US!! But, I'm not going to do that. Cause I ain't no uneducated bigot moron who doesn't know what the frack he's talking about! Because, two can play the same game. I just choose not to.

Yeah, so these are the people we're up against.

They shouldn't be out there presenting arguments for a case, they should be institutionalised, or have their own show on Fox News. These people can't string together a coherent sentence, let alone justify their bigotry.

Most of our judges know better than that and this makes me hopeful that the Supreme Court will come out on the side of equal rights too!

Blog protocol requires that I put the word 'random' somewhere in the title . . .

. . . but fuck blog protocol (I really need to start using another profanity. I'm not Kathy Griffin at NYE, for crying out loud).

I finally sat through When Harry met Sally and saw it at one go. *Spoiler Alert* - They do end up together. Whoopti-fucking-do. Damn straight people. They have it so easy. All they need to is to start hating someone and voila!, they end up spending the rest of their life with that person. Why in the blue hell do gay people love this movie? I guess that's because all of us need some sort of myth to believe in. Like Brangelina. Or the secret of the universe hidden inside Lady Gaga's magic peen.

* * *

Speaking of stupid things people believe in, is it me or everyone is getting married this season? About four different sets people I went to school with choose to spend eternity with each other's cooties. Some were even younger than I am.

I usually try to avoid weddings like the plague that they are, but since a few of these people were my drinking buddies and a few of them might be useful for a few (future) cheap laughs, I sorta went along.

Everybody had an average of four large dinner parties. I can never understand why people have so many do's when they are getting married. It's like their telling the world, We're going to spend the rest of our forlorn miserable existence together. We would like you and everybody else we know to believe that we are good, monogamous people, even though one of us looks like a whore. So come celebrate with us and stuff yourself with so much food that you need to loosen your belt buckle. Also, we make so much money that we can afford to feed a thousand people some pseudo-exotic fruit which, let's pretend, came from some exotic country. Now shut your pie hole and eat something.

If I were straight, I would have actually run off and got married in Vegas or something. But hey, it's your money. If you want to spend it feeding more than a thousand ungrateful souls, half of whom are jealous and the other half just pretending to like you, then please go ahead. Who am I to judge?

Although, I did get to meet some people I went to school with and laugh at their sad little existence. One of them had a really nice and interesting wife. If I wasn't so gay, I would've hit that. Too bad she's married to that insufferable old coot. I'm pretty sure she's going to become a cougar in twenty years.

* * *

I think I might have a small crush on the Baskin Robbins delivery guy. Well, at least that explains the freezer full of uneaten tubs of ice-cream in this arctic winter we've been having. They really DO have 31 flavours, ya know? Pretty neat. Coming back to the guy, he's smart, educated and does not take any tips. It's against "company policy". Geez. What a dork! Just take the money and drop your pants, you fool.

Sigh. Porn movies make it look so easy. (Not that I would know. I heard it from one of my ..ummm.. friends.)

Why does the sort-of-romantic part of my life always involve food in one way or the other? I think I have issues. Freud would have a field day. Thankfully, that mofo is dead.

No, I don't know anything about psychology. I accidentally read up on him a few years ago on wikipedia while I was aimlessly surfing the interwebs.

I was at work at that time. What else was I supposed to do?

* * *

This is what happens when you listen to Alanis Morissete while you are high!

I'm probably going to gain more weight than I lose, for the rest of the year I'm probably going to be be feeling like that person who goes to pick someone up at the airport and waits till all the passengers depart only to find out that the person he was waiting for did not even board the plane and I'm probably going to have my last remaining hopes and dreams crushed by reality . . .

. . . but you know what?

Fuck being a jaded cynical asshole.

Fuck having zero expectations from life.

Fuck not trying to look for happiness in material things.

Fuck reality.

Fuck not trying to fill that void with alcohol and great food.

Fuck not trying to be suspicious of people who are nice to you for no reason.

Fuck trying to connect with people with whom the only things to talk about happened a decade ago.

Fuck worrying about the past or the future.

Fuck second guessing yourself.

Fuck being a curmudgeonly old pessimist.

What I mean to say is,

HAVE A GREAT FUCKING NEW YEAR, EVERYONE!!

xoxo

Let's just leave it at that!

A week after I came out to my Dad, guess who calls me up?

S-Girl.

Remember her?

Yup.

She called me.

Again.

I had already ignored 9,999 of her previous calls, therefore I decided to pick this one up. What can I say? I'm nice like that, sometimes.

So we chat for five minutes, ignoring the literal elephant in the room (hey, I was looking into the mirror).

She then declared that she wanted to meet.

I immediately regretted picking up her call. I just spoke to her after a long time of ignoring her calls, and now she wanted to meet? I then realized that this is a woman who has no sense of boundaries at all. The memory of all the really horrible things she had told me about herself a few years ago came puking back.

She clearly told me that if I did not meet her she would stand outside my house and shout out cuss words in victorian english, so I was left with no choice but to meet her.  Although, to be safe, I asked her to meet me in my family home, so that there would be witnesses just in case things got a little bit out of hand. I'm smart like that, sometimes.

Anyways, time passes too fast, the metaphorical clock ticks away to five, and I ask my Mom to make sure that my precious books are distributed according to the list I have prepared, just in case I am unable to "survive" this meeting. Of course, my Mom thought I was just being a tad melodramatic. I guess I can't blame her for that. I am the same person, who, a few months ago forced her get rid of half the plants in her garden because I felt like they were too judgemental. It might sound a little crazy, but under circumstances will I be judged in my own home. At least not by those green, freeloading basteds.

Right. Moving on.

The bell rings, I pray to the almost empty bottle of Vodka on the table to keep me out of harm's way, and then I go to open the door to meet her.

Okay, fine. I didn't exactly open the door myself, I might have 'politely' asked someone from the household help to do it, just in case she was carrying a weapon. Hey, they're poor and they live in a third world country. Their lives are probably less valuable.

So let's not lose focus here, people. 

After the door is opened, S-Girl enters the house. She has the aura of a lame serial killer from a Dan Brown novel. We sit down, she makes small talk. I continue to nod constantly, while also trying to be alert enough to watch out for any sudden movements.

The conversation keeps moving while my pea sized heart tries to exit via my mouth.

S Girl: You know, we really should finish what we started a few years ago.
Me: What?
S Girl: *head tilt* You know what I'm talking about . . .
Me: No, I have no idea. I have trouble remembering things. I drink a lot, remember?
S Girl: (Moving closer) Let me remind you then . . .
Me: (getting up) I'M mmmmmm GAYYYYYY . . . VERY GAY . . . . GAYER THAN A HUGH GRANT MOVIE . . .
S Girl: What?????????
Me: Yes. I'm gay. I like boys. Not girls. Don't like girls. I mean, I like girls, but just not in that way.
S Girl: But . . . how can you be gay? . . .
S Girl: Look at you . . . you're wearing Reeboks with corduroy jeans? What's up with that?
Me: Well, I haven't entered the being fabulous phase yet.
Me: Still working on that.
S Girl: Seriously? I hope so, for your sake.
S Girl: Only redneck farmers and 90 year old Belgian grandmothers are allowed to have so much facial hair.  
S Girl: Also, that tub of lard needs to go.
Me: Hey, I just haven't shaved in a while.
Me: And that's not a tub of lard, bitch. That's my stomach.
S Girl: Just letting you know stuff, buddy.
Me: Might I remind you that you were the one who was about to KISS ME a few minutes ago?
S Girl: Yeah, but I'm a married Indian woman. I take whatever I can get.
Me: I hate you, you know!
S Girl: Ha. Fine. Tell me something I don't know.
S Girl: So, since when have you known that you're a pole smoker?
Me: Offensive, bitch.
Me: And I guess I've known since as long as I can remember.  
S Girl: Ummmm, were you gay when we were going out? 
Me: We were never 'going out', per se. 
S Girl: Well, you know what I mean!
Me: Yeah, okay.
Me: Well, I did know, I guess, but I was deep in denial at that time. 
Me: Although, now that I think about it, you probably might have helped me confirm it.
Me: I might have been confused, but after our whole thing, I was pretty damn sure I was a 'mo.
Me: Don't wanna be rude, but you might have even turned me . . . hahaha
S Girl: *Looks like a piñata got stuck up her cervix*
S Girl: WHAT. DID. YOU. MEAN. BY. THAT?
Me: Just a joke. Kidding. I had a drink during lunch. Lighten up. Take a deep breath.
Me: Cookie?
S Girl: So you're definitely gay?
Me: Yup. I am. Thankfully.
S Girl: Yeah. Sure. What a "loss" to straight woman. Boo fucking hoo.
Me: Yeah, that's rich, coming from a desperate housewife.
S Girl: Touché.
Me: Thank you, madam.
S Girl: So you like boys, huh?
Me: Yeah.
S Girl: Then stay away from my husband. *stupid grin* hahahaha
Me: Please, even if he is the last man on earth, I'd never hit on that sad little fucker.
S Girl: WHY? what's wrong with him?
Me: Errrrr, nothing.
S Girl: Is it the hair? Or the moustache? Or the mole?
Me: NOTHING. He seems like a nice guy.
S Girl: It's the hair isn't it?
S Girl: Or is the way he talks?
Me: Okayyyyy. Let's just leave it at that, please? Great. Thank you.
Me: So the weather is being such a bitch, isn't it?
S Girl: Is it because of the way he laughs? Does it makes you want to join a cult, too?
Me: So have you read Wolf Hall yet? I'm hearing good things about it.
S Girl: Why wouldn't you want to do my husband?
Me: Cause he is your frikin husband!! Does that mean anything to YOU?
S Girl: Meh. He's probably gay, anyway.
Me: EXCUSE ME??
Me: WHAT??
S Girl: Nothing.
S Girl: I think I'd better leave.
Me: Yeah. That would be for the best.

(Then I went to see her off, so as to make sure she doesn't come back)

Me: So this was fun.
S Girl: *Silence*
Me: Nice catching up with you.
S Girl: (gets into car)
Me: We should do this again sometime.
S Girl: (closes door, starts engine)
Me: Give my best to your husband.
S Girl: (speeds away, hopefully never to be seen again!)

 

Do you think I might have touched a nerve, somewhere?

Even if I did, well, she started it.

. . . One huge step for Whippersnapperkind Part 2

I never thought this day would come so soon. I had promised myself not to end 2009 without telling my Dad, but I spent most of the year ignoring that.

However, for the past month, I've had this intense feeling in the pit of my stomach (that's where my brain is I think. What can I say? I'm a medical marvel!) that I need to come out to my Dad.

This past week, I had almost come out to him but I didn't because he had some stuff going on with his sister. I thought I would wait for the right time. But, then I figured that it would never be a right time and that I would just have to bite the bullet and tell him the truth.

So day before yesterday, I decided that it was D-day. I gave my Mom a heads up, and then waited for my Dad to come home from his office.

Me: Dad, I need to talk to you.
Dad: Okay.

We head to my room.

Me: Dad, there is something important I need to tell you.
Dad: Wait, let me guess, your girlfriend's pregnant.
Me: No, Dad. I don't have a girlfriend.
Dad: So your ex-girlfriend's pregnant?
Me: No, Dad, no one's pregnant.
Dad: So you've been offered a job.
Me: No, Dad. No one's that crazy. Or that desperate.
Dad: Don't say that. There are lots of people like that out there. At least I hope.
Me: Okay, Dad I can't keep having this conversation again and again.
Me: I'm not looking for a job.
Me: Now, can we move on?
Dad: Sigh. Yeah, sure.
Me: Dad, I need to tell you something which I have been keeping secret for a long time.
Dad: Is this about that time you and your friends were almost caught by the police for being underage and drinking in your car and you bribed your way out of it?
Me: You knew about that?
Dad: Pretty much.
Dad: Your friends Dad had called me and told me about it.
Me: Uh-ok.
Dad: What do you think the great lecture of '98 was all about?
Me: Okay, so that was what you were talking about when you said that I wouldn't be able to "bribe my way out of everything and that I need to stop fooling around like that".
Dad: Yeah, what did you think I was talking about?
Me: Oh, I thought you were talking about when I tried to smuggle my mathematics answer sheet out of the classroom because I didn't know the answer to any question.
Dad: You tried to do what?
Me: Ahem. Nothing. Can we move on now?
Me: And will you please stop guessing?
Dad: Okay, what is it you want to tell me?
Me: *Silence*
Dad: Yeah, go on . . .
Me: *Silence*
Dad: If you don't speak now I'll start guessing again . . .
Me: Okay, Dad, this is not easy for me to say what I was going to say.
Dad: Did you "forget" to pay your credit card bill again, for six months?
Me: No, Dad, there is something else.
Dad: Then, do me a favour and tell me what's on your mind.
Me: Okay . . . .  Dad . . . . . . I, ummmmm, don't like, mmmmmmmmmmmm
Dad: You don't like what?
Me: Dad, I don't like girls.
Dad: What do you mean?
Dad: Do you like boys, then?
Me: Yeah, sort off.
Dad: That's sad.
Me: In what sense?
Dad: You do know this is a disease, right?
Me: What, being gay?
Dad: Yeah.
Me: What are you talking about, Dad?
Dad: Well, you should see a psychiatrist.
Me: Look, Dad, I'm not asking you for advice.
Me: It's how I was born.
Me: I could have gone my whole life without telling you and there was no way you could have found out.
Me: I'm not asking for your blessing or anything. I'm basically telling you that this is how it is.
Me: And I would expect someone as educated as you to keep an open mind.
Dad: See, I'm not forcing you to do anything. Just giving you my opinion.
Dad: It's your life, and your choice.
Me: Thanks.
Me: If you feel ashamed of me, I will move out in a few months or whenever I get a job.
Dad: You really don't need to do that.
Me: What, get a job?
Dad: No, move out.
Me: Oh, it's good that you said that. I wasn't gonna move out anyway and it would have been really awkward ...... for you.
Dad: *no reaction*
Me: So I guess we're not ready to joke about it yet.
Dad: *Gets up to leave*
Me: begin sarcastic tone\ Sorry for being such a disappointment. /end sarcastic tone
Dad: *Opens door to leave, looks back* No, there is nothing like that.
Me: *shrugs*

It wasn't as bad as I expected. He didn't shout or say anything really mean. And he was probably shocked, to say the least. But I am glad I told him. It was time. Even though I think he wishes that I rather had a pregnant girlfriend, I think it's going to be fine.

He's going to do what he usually does when I take decisions which he does not agree with (basically, ALL of them). a) Sulk b) Blame my Mom for "encouraging" me c) Fire someone in his office d) Begrudgingly get on board Team Ramby.

It took me such a long time. It's only fair I let him take his. 

Anyways, the important thing is that now, there would be no more secrets. No more half-truths. No more use of ambiguous words like "partner", "fellow-human" and "casual friend".

I guess the truth does set you free!

Hallelujah!

Although, I still am never going to tell him what really happened to his car in January 1996. That secret is going with me to the grave. Or whatever weird vegan ceremony I'm going to have when I finally log out and pass on to the big blogosphere in the sky.

One small step for man, one huge step for Whippersnapperkind

I just came out to my Dad.

It happened like 10 or 15 minutes ago.

He wasn't happy about it, but he still reacted much better than I expected.

I am still shaking.

Will be back when I can write more coherently.

It's different!

The other day, I was reading an article written by a famous right-wing journalist who is famous for being a right-wing journalist, in which he said that he is okay with "tolerating" gay people but he thinks that it was wrong of the high court to equate hetereosexual and homosexual relationships.

Now, at that point of time, I obviously disagreed with him.

However, yesterday after reading this post here and this article here, I sort of had an #epiphany. (Sorry about the "#", I've been really using twitter a little too much. I know, I'm addicted. #snapperfail. Sheesh.)

I seem to have changed my mind.

I think equating gay relationships and straight relationships is wrong. They are not the same.

Why do I say that?

Well, the answer dawned on me after huge amounts of generalising, stereotyping, pseudo-scientific analysing, hypotheticalising (I know that's not even a word. But let's just pretend that it is. There is a word for arbitrarily pretending something is true for the sake of argument. I just can't think of it right now.) and assuming my ass off.

Now, we know that most men in our country are bought up with a huge dose of entitlement. Since the day they are born, they are taught that they always get first dibs on everything because they can pee standing up. Now the mothers spend the rest of their lives blaming other people for her son's mistakes, while the fathers spend the rest of their life blaming the mother for the extreme love and affection that they showered their son with. Yes, if there was an Olympic competition for cognitive dissonance, then most Indian parents would qualify for the gold medal.

Alternatively, Indian girls are made to realize that everyone frowns around them because daddy wanted a little boy and mommy wanted a little boy and granny also wanted a little boy. And no one really cares what grandpa wants because grandpa is 80 and delusional and sharts all the time.

So after such a  warm welcome, while the girls are growing up  it is drilled into their heads that they really are second class citizens and were sent to this earth to cook, clean and put out whenever their husband wants to fall asleep on top of them.

And then when both of them grow up, then they are paired with each other and spend the rest of their lives resenting each other and each other's parents. And when things get really bad, they have kids. Because that's the solution to every problem in a marriage.

Now, this is where gay relationships are a little different.

Usually when gay people set out to find the person they want to have a relationship with, they aren't actually looking to fulfil the position of "house_maid" or "income_generator". They aren't looking for a "smart, fair, homely girl who can make three chappitis per minute" or a "thin, fair handsome man who makes income in excess of six figures and has been to different countries like New York and the USA".

Gay people usually seek out a relationship based on trust, love for each other, mutual respect and because both of them cry towards the end of When Harry met Sally.

So, yes, Mr Right-wing journalist, gay relationships are different from straight relationships.

Thank God for that.