Gaysi: The Gay Desi

Wanna Help!

MJ — Sat, 14 Nov 2009 05:37:36 +0000

The Indian Media loves us Queer folks, especially after the IPC 377 enigma. At times they represent us with the deserving sensitivity and care and many a times they do what they do best, shoddy journalism that is.
But let’s not bother with the shoddy crackers. At least not in this post. Cause clearly unke ghar main (gay) bhai behen nahi hain.

A trusted Gaysi supporter & well wisher is planning on doing a story on desi lezzies for a reputed women’s magazine. Topic is quite open; being a lesbian in India, difficulties in coming out, stereotypes, etc.

So if you are interested in spreading the right words at your expense then do get in touch with us via contact form. Needless to say; anonymity guaranteed.

Later then Foxies!

Silencing Them Is Not The Answer

Guest Author — Fri, 06 Nov 2009 08:44:02 +0000

[ Reader Val's response to Rohit Verma Booo Hooo! ]

I have to start by saying, I am against any form of censorship. Whether the demand for it is made by the extreme right, left or the center. Yes, there are all sorts of misguided people who propagate dubious information to the vulnerable. I completely understand the frustration stemming from those suffering as an direct or indirect consequence.

However, the response to these misguided people should be demolishing their credibility and creating awareness by countering this with the correct information; not by silencing them. In the very specific case of Rohit Verma, after his antics on Bigg Boss, what he says is hardly taken seriously by contestants who are not always (at the time of publishing this article, I think they are) privy to the misunderstandings he creates and his tendency to contort/exaggerate the things spoken to him in confidence and then conveying it to other parties. His credibility at Bigg Boss house is nil. Everyone’s using him for their own gains to win the game show. Needless to say, people like us who can see his true nature, unedited, thanks to a dozen cameras, should have no faith in what he propagates. Rohit is a pathological drama queen.

Homosexuality does not have a clear and scientific proof that can categorically attribute a cause to it. Some have claimed that their attraction to men is resultant of the child abuse that they have suffered. This is their story and indisputable. Others claim to have known their orientation from prepubescent years.. some as young as 9.. How? Why? We don’t know.

Racism, in its more subtle forms continue to exist on television.. The other day on a laughter show, the skit portrayed an Arab as a boy-lover and with homosexual tendencies. The crowds were in throes of laughter over it. This is more clear and easy to define and criticise (should one care enough), unlike those who throw up their own theories on homosexuality.

On what basis is Bigg Boss to size up Rohit? In this singular instance, he had no malicious intent, he was merely saying what he believed to be true. Just as Ismail Darbar announced to the world his mistrust for those with light colored eyes.

Gaysi Prayers for Modi.

Guest Author — Wed, 04 Nov 2009 17:05:09 +0000

[Guest Author: The Bride]

I’m not quite sure what to think of this one:
Gays pray for CM at Bahucharaji

The reaction of most people (on my Facebook list) is:
1. They have fabricated this.
2. Ok, other news media have also covered it so maybe it’s true.
3. If it is true, then, hawww! How could they?

My questions are:
1. Is a right-wing gay person an oymoron?
2. Is their sexuality relevant at all? If heterosexual people prayed for Modi, there wouldn’t be a headline like: “Straight people pray for Modi”. BUT what makes this news is that fact that they are gay, and gay-ness is not seen as compatible with being right wing. OR maybe there’s some other news angle that I am missing here.

Then again, maybe I’m overthinking this.

Rohit Verma Booo Hooo!

MJ — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 12:36:45 +0000

As mentioned in some of my earlier posts; Projection of the Queer World by the Indian Media, Entertainment Channels & Bollywood, gets my balls twisted all black and blue.

And here’s the current reason for my anguish. A chameleon personified. Bigg Boss 3 contestant. Rohit Verma.

For those who are not in tune with the Indian Idiot Box can brush through these sites and increase their GK by reading useless information [Bigg Boss 3 & Rohit Verma]. For those who are aware, let me pull the trigger, straight away.

I am pissed at Rohit Verma, not because;

He is a back stabber
He is a liar
He wrongly accuses people over serious issues such as racism
Raises the bar of Bitching to a all new high
He is a Baba Ramdev follower (so is the rumor)

But in fact what has rubbed my wrong side is this;

According to very openly gay Mr. Verma, homosexuality is a psychological problem. A problem triggered by some childhood trauma, because of which the inner desire of man for the opposite sex is vanquished.

WTF! Psychological Problem?!

Now I am a very liberal person and I do firmly believe that everyone is entitled to his/her opinion. Similarly Mr. Verma is entitled to his own. And he can share this verbal diarrhea with his equally butthead housemates but what is not right is screening such shit out loud on National Television.

Homosexuality as we are aware is a very sensitive social issue in this country, where societal & parental pressure is part of a Queer person’s day-to-day life. The positive effects coming out of Decriminalization of IPC 377 are still a long way ahead. And topping it all we have misguided information being circulated by one of most powerful medium, that too by a gay man.

If the Bigg Boss officials could pull his undies up for falsely accusing a housemates of racism then why not for his displaced theory on Homosexuality.

Gaining sympathy, manipulation, switching sides, etc as part of winning a reality show strategy is understandable but what is not forgivable is nullifying the efforts of many NGOs and individuals in spreading the Queer cause, providing valid information and forcing the society to think beyond the stereotype mindset.

Its time Television Channels looked beyond low-down activities for gaining TRPs!

Fantasy List

MJ — Fri, 16 Oct 2009 07:41:35 +0000

Lists. I love making them. And ever since I have declared myself out in the Lezziedom, the so-called Fantasy List has been some-what a priority. I mean let’s face it; life is short and there’s so much to do!

Surely most of you have a Fantasy List; if not on paper, but definitely somewhere in the back of that lusty lecherous mind. And every time something radical, something that makes you go hmm….happens, you can’t help but wish you get to experience it at least once in your lifetime.

So yeah, since I very much glee on the fact of being the shameless kind, couple this with the entertainment pleasure for you reading folks, I present to you Top 5 must experience items (before my boobs start to sag and reach my 6-flab stomach) from my Fantasy List.

In random order….

1. Lap Dance: Okay, so this may sound like a dud for a start but by Gawd I still wanna get it from a tall, superbly gorgeous woman with a curvaceous body and even more curvy moves. Just like the one Shane gets from Carmen in tele-series, The L Word (aka. The Lesbian Bible). I think it was Season 4 or maybe 5?!

2. Make-Out on a Mountain Top: With the complete works; full moon, wine on ice (and other non-mentionable places), picnic basket, soft white/red bed sheet, etc etc. Mushy, yes I know. Therefore this ideally I would want with someone I am in love with. Head over heels, Can’t live without, Deep, Crazy…that sorta loowe. Cause everything doesn’t necessarily need to revolve around lust, now does it? * rule exception – the Lisa Ray kinds, I’m game even for a one night stand *

3. Threesome: Now do I really need to elaborate here? Gee…such perverts you women are! Anyway the only rule here is that I have to be the one in the middle. No supporting role for moi.

4. Break the 22 hours record: A very dear friend once boasted of her 22 hours sex marathon with her ever-amazing partner. Since then it’s been stuck in head, more like a challenge to my mojo. The maximum I have touched is around 9 odd hours, not even close I know, but honestly the fault does not lie with me but in fact with the other party. No wonder they say we live in The Instant Era. But I ain’t gonna give up.

5. Er…Karva Chauth: Okay now stop giving me that fucked in the head wala look. I belong to the 80s Bollywood generation, what can I say, I have been influenced (or maybe it’s the hot blooded Punjabi male mentality in me somewhere, well so my potential girl friend thinks).

Anyway…I want my missy to keep a Karva Chauth for me someday. Fasting all day long, traditional desi dressing, impatiently waiting by the window for her hard(ly) working Saiya. But what’s an absolute must and totally digs my fancy *hold your breath* the maang main sindoor bit. Don’t laugh, I’m serious, pretty much like one of 80s Amitabh Bachchan films – in a temple, the hero standing tall, the heroine shedding khushi ke tears, hero cutting his thumb and pouring precious drops of blood in heroine’s oil soaked hair. Okay, so maybe this sounds a bit extreme plus I belong to the rare blood group type….but you get the picture no?!

There you go…hope you ladies have been exceptionally well-entertained and find this post to be a perfect Diwali Dhamaka. If feeling a bit generous, do jot down your fantasy number in the comment section.

Happy holidays Gaysies.

Let’s Educate & Be Educated

MJ — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 04:50:48 +0000

Launched October 11, 2009, the Campaign for Open Minds is one of the many efforts to end homophobia, biphobia and transphobia in India. This online campaign is a response to the alarming surge in attempts at conversion therapy and other negative reactions to increased visibility of LGBT people, following Delhi High Court’s historic July 2 2009 decision decriminalizing homosexuality. We have three open letters, and invite you to sign the one most appropriate to you.

(i) If you are a healthcare professional (doctor/nurse/counselor/mental health professional/medical social worker/ hospital administrator/public health scientist/researcher) in India or of Indian origin, we invite you to sign the letter opposing conversion therapy and supporting non-discriminatory, appropriate, and ethical treatment and healthcare for LGBT people.

(ii) If you are a supportive parent, sibling, or friend of an LGBT person in India or of Indian origin, please sign the letter to express solidarity with your loved one(s) and register your opposition to homophobia, biphobia and transphobia.

(iii) If you are lesbian, gay, bisexual or transgender, please join us to sign the letter promoting the visibility of our diverse communities, and appealing for non-discriminatory treatment from our family and friends, healthcare establishment, media, educational institutions and workplaces in India.

For detailed information, go here.

A Moral Dilemma: Being Politically Correct & Not Being A Tease

Ideasmith — Wed, 14 Oct 2009 11:13:05 +0000

Some months ago, I received an email from one of my readers. She was a lesbian lady who had come across one of my posts on Gaysi and wanted to tell me that she appreciated my support for the gay community. I wrote back thanking her and telling her how some of my close friends were gay and that it had given me a chance to see the difficulties they faced because of discrimination. At the end of that conversation, she asked to meet me, adding ‘if you don’t mind having coffee sometime with a dyke’. Of course I didn’t I told her, wouldn’t that be silly after all I had said? Later, she invited me to a party, telling me that there would be mostly gay people at the party. I didn’t manage to make it to that party after all. We’ve had a few conversations since then, about general topics, the kind that I write about – life, love, friendship, people etc.

In the recent past, she had popped up a number of times on my radar, in the form of her thoughts on my posts or just a chat window saying hello. She has also been inviting me to a number of different events and outings in addition to asking me when I’d like to meet for coffee. I have to say that I haven’t managed to make it to any of the aforementioned events and neither have I made time for the promised coffee. I do have a rather busy social life and when it comes to prioritizing, I almost always place an old friend, a date or solo time over a casual conversation with a stranger. There has however been one thing nagging at the back of my head for some time now. If it had been a straight girl, I think she would most likely have lost interest in trying to make contact with me by now. If it had been a guy at the other end of this interaction, his persistence would have made me think that he had a crush on me. This actually is the first time I’m making an online connection with a lesbian girl.

I thought back to my friend MJ. I didn’t know she was a lesbian when we first met and neither of us actively pursued the friendship. We just ended up meeting a lot of times, hanging out a lot with friends and by ourselves and had become close when I realised she was gay. By that time though, her major association in my mind was friend and being gay was just one of the many things I knew about her, like her hair colour or her last name. In this case though, the only real definition I have of this lady is that she is lesbian. And she has been quite keen to meet me. I know that this may be more indicative of her friendliness than a romantic interest in me. And yet, the possibility exists, however remote. I also know that gay people are able to discern other gays and would logically not expect a person to change their sexuality.

Then again, one of my lesbian friends did indeed date someone who had hitherto portrayed a ‘straight’ face (pun entirely unintended!), even having had a boyfriend before she met my friend. And also, I myself know that when you like someone a lot, it is quite possible to misread or even read a little too much into their actions. The dilemma I face is a moral one, not a practical one. Should I meet her and risk sending her a wrong signal that I reciprocate? Or should I refrain and succumb to that archaic belief that gay people are just waiting to pounce on one? Furthermore, considering that we don’t have common friends or interests, am I not willing to meet her only to prove that I’m open-minded about homosexuality? There’s definitely an over-correction in favour of gay people then. After all by my own premise, equal rights means equality and vice versa. I struggled with all of these for a number of days.

Finally, I decided to just come clean and tell her what I thought. I told her that this was what I would think if a guy reader had contacted me and that I could be reading this wrong but I wanted to make sure I wasn’t sending out a wrong message. She replied,

“Oh god, don’t tell me you got the wrong message!”

and then logged off. Maybe she was offended and I am sorry about that. It was never my intention to insult anyone. But at the end of it, I think I’d rather live with that than run the risk of leading her on.

Note: I mentioned this to MJ who laughed and said, “It’s so amusing to see the hetro community more touchy about gay issues then gays themselves!”

Bollywood’s First Bisexual

MJ — Sat, 10 Oct 2009 07:17:14 +0000

In the previous post our spunky reader, DK complained – lekin kab do kudiyon ko leke kuch banayengey?? – and holy cow her wish just got answered.

From the land of desi jhatkas matkas comes our very own (first) Bisexual damsel in Devang Dholakia’s 3 Nights 4 Days. Played by actress Madhuri Bhattacharya, Zoya hails from an affluent Hyderabadi Muslim family. Creative, witty, talented with special liking for sarcasm and Madonna. She always knew what she wanted from life while she was studying fashion designing. But wait-O-wait, secret thing about her is her liking for girls. Despite being disowned by her family for her sexual preferences, Zoya continues to make progress in her chosen path.

Interested? Read more here….

Honestly I don’t know about you Chic(k)lets but I’m quite a cynic when it comes to Bollywood’s interpretation of Queer folks. And I have a gut feeling that this film ain’t gonna be any different, for instance; the Production guys probably decided to go against having an out-n-out lezzie to avoid any sort of boo-haa with the moral brigade rascals. Zoya’s sexuality angle is just there to titillate the audience without any meaningful screen time. Some childhood disaster made her lean towards same sex entanglements. You get the picture….right!

Anyway no more speculation, let’s see what this Friday unfolds.

PS – Credit to be given though, the woman looks cute.

It’s Time, Hell Ya!

MJ — Tue, 06 Oct 2009 10:33:56 +0000

Zilch is my faith in the Indian Main Stream Media. Be it their Breaking News claims, Current Affairs, Political Opinions, Reviews; anything and everything that is highlighted by them I refuse to buy it. In today’s competitive scenario, by default they all seem to follow single shameless funda – TRP (Circulation) ke liye kuch bhi karega – and therefore lies and exaggeration form a crucial element of the daily news bundle.

But once in a while we have a blue moon night (Yes! Yes! We are grateful) where a thing called “conscious” awakens and makes its presence felt. What? Where? You ask…

Folks at Hindustan Times have started a new series of Ad campaigns, pretty much on the lines of “Jaago India” types introduced by Tata Tea guys.

One of the Ad campaign focuses on Gay Rights. Agreed its self-promotion harping business but as long as it sends out the right message, it’s all good, me thinks.

Hopefully now HT will do more than just preaching and not let it all breeze by as wishful thinking. Or else we will continue to use their newspaper as a cheap mosquito repellant. What say you?

Queen Of Hearts – Part 2 (Finale)

Sasha Bings — Wed, 30 Sep 2009 05:45:37 +0000

* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

Rani and Zarina stood facing each other. Zarina reached out her hand and clasped Rani’s in it, and then pulled her close to her. Rani put her arms around Zarina’s head and wrapped her in her embrace. They kissed deeply, Zarina’s hands found Rani’s supple waist. She pulled her towards her so their groins pressed against each other.

“I am so wet!” Rani giggled. “Do you want to see?” She took Zarina’s left hand with her right hand and sucked on her forefinger and index fingers, then she took Zarina’s hand and guided her fingers under her dress to her pussy. She was wearing the skinniest of thongs which she pushed aside without any effort so that Zarina’s hand was now rubbing her wet pussy. “Do you like that?” Rani asked with her eyelashes aflutter. Zarina could feel her hands drenched with cum.

Zarina took charge from there. She rubbed Rani’s enlarged button. It was throbbing now. She ran her fingers through Rani’s pussy moving the wetness all around it. Her whole pussy was pulsing in her hands. She pulled Rani closer and kissed her again, her tongue deep in her mouth. She was delicious! God’s gift to men – and now, Zarina. With one hand she held Rani from behind and with the other she opened up Rani’s pussy, and shoved two fingers up her large hole and finger fucked her. Rani let out a low groan. Her panties were now down around her ankles. She flicked them away with her toes.

“You know where I want you Zarina?” Rani whispered in Zarina’s ear. “I want you in my bathtub, the water running, and I want to be fucked by you. “You know I keep all kinds of toys…do you want to see?” Zarina’s eyes widened with the range of sex toys in Rani’s collection! Oh God! There was a large purple latex dildo with a ribbed tip that had all kinds of vibrating mechanisms on it! Rani saw Zarina’s eyes on it. “I never knew when I would use this…until now. State-of-the-art.” She giggled again. “From London!”

Rani ran the tap water and dipped her toes in. Zarina came up behind her and stroked her ass and kissed her on the neck. She pressed the dildo up against Rani’s ass and turned on the vibrator, it was crooked in between the two mounds of flesh that formed her ass. Rani gasped while Zarina squeezed her large round tits from behind and pulled her dark brown nipples. “You have come a long way haven’t you Rani?” Zarina whispered in her ear.

“Get in the bathtub,” Rani ordered. Zarina lay in the warm pool of water, her legs spread apart, ready for Rani. Rani got in and sat astride Zarina and made herself comfortable and bit Zarina’s neck and giggled again. They soaped each other up, making sure to arouse all the right parts. Zarina took the dildo, now wet, and rubbed it against Rani’s pussy, teasing it. Rani’s large breasts hung in front of her face, Rani’s long black hard fell around her deep bronzed shoulders. Rani took her own breast and put one large nipple in Zarina’s mouth for her to suck on it. Zarina sucked on it lovingly and full of rabid desire.

They locked lips again, now in the throes of complete lust. Rani reached down for the dildo and and helped Zarina guide it inside her. When it was in, Rani started fucking it, first with slow rhythmic movements and then when it was deep inside if her and vibrating like crazy, she bounced on it like it was the real thing. Zarina had never seen such a deep pussy and so much stamina! Who would have known a sweet, innocent little Rani could be such a vixen! Zarina played with Rani’s button, while she sucked her tits. Her other hand, wet and soapy was caressing Rani’s free nipple, pulling and pinching it. As Rani came with a loud, heaving orgasm, she screamed in ecstasy. “Yes, yes, yes!” Zarina was afraid the neighbours would hear, Rani was so loud!

“Fuck that was too good!” Rani said, biting her lips, as Zarina pulled out the dildo. Then she snatched the dildo from Zarina’s hands and looked at her coquettishly and giggled, “My turn, hero!”

Queen of Hearts – Part I

Sasha Bings — Wed, 23 Sep 2009 06:15:55 +0000

Zarina was running late by 15 minutes to Rani’s office. The controversial head of a major luxury brand based out of Delhi, Rani was known for her extravagant parties and public love affairs. The most recent one, with a married man. Her divorce from the head of a corporate bank a few years back had been equally public and messy.

Rani was looking for an art and design services company to re-design her plush home in New Delhi and Zarina had come with excellent references. Besides, Zarina and Rani knew each other from Loreto Convent in Delhi. They had been in the same class but different sections. Zarina had always been very popular, eventually becoming a school prefect. In contrast, Rani had been a plain Jane; quiet and shy and she certainly gave no indication of the Page 3 celebrity she would become. Zarina hadn’t seen her in years, although Rani’s life was tabloid fodder.

Zarina had made the trip to Delhi to meet Rani and arrived promptly at Rani’s office in Defence Colony for the meeting. Zarina walked in about 20 minutes later. Curvaceous and sexy, Rani was drop dead gorgeous. She came in through the door to greet Zarina, she had an hourglass figure with a perfectly fitting Zebra patterned dress and open leather sandals on. She was utterly charming, with a sweet, melodic voice and fluttering eyelashes. Zarina was at once fixated. “Zarina, oh my God! It’s so lovely to see you! It’s been so long!” She kissed Zarina on the cheek. “My, you look lovely!” Flattery will get you everywhere, Zarina thought to herself.

Rani was clearly a woman who knew her charms and it hadn’t taken her long to figure out that Zarina was enchanted. Zarina told herself to shake out of it. But she couldn’t help being zonked out by Rani. Was this really the quiet and shy girl she once knew ? She was a dark and sensuous Bengali beauty with perfectly angled yet soft features. Her eyes were lined in thick kajal imparting her the fierceness of Kali. Usually a tough operator, negotiator and stubborn about her creative vision, Zarina found herself acquiescing to everything Rani suggested in that half hour meeting. Rani could convince anyone to walk through fire for her, Zarina mused.

Before Zarina left, Rani looked at her up and down and and sat back smiling. It was a curious smile.

“What are you doing tonight?” asked Rani. “Well, not much really. I am staying with some friends so I was going to get some dinner with them.”

“Well why don’t you join me and some of my friends for dinner? We are going to a new restaurant that my friend Jimmy just opened up. It’s fab food and the cocktails are to die for.” Zarina was sold.

The dinner was relatively dull. Delhi socialites and their lovers or gay companions. Zarina was used to it. She was a Delhi girl after all. Throughout dinner, Rani, who was wearing a sleeveless red cocktail dress made an extra effort to make Zarina feel comfortable. As the alcohol set in, Rani became overly flirtatious, laughing at everything Zarina said and she reached over and touched her arm a few times. Once she even took Zarina’s hand and held it in hers while she admired Zarina’s emerald ring. “Oh that’s divine!” Rani commented and she held onto Zarina’s hand a few moments more than she needed to. Zarina couldn’t help staring at Rani all evening. She was really a siren, and in that low-cut dress…

They all went over to Rani’s place afterwards for a night cap. A gay male pair were making out like mad in the car on the way. Zarina guessed they were both high on coke. They had both disappeared into the bathroom during the evening atleast twice. Sex and drugs. Sigh. Zarina was glad she wasn’t part of this scene. By now, Zarina was feeling uneasy. She was having dirty thoughts about Rani. She imagined tying her up, blindfolding her and fucking her. She was so fuckable.

At Rani’s place, Zarina excused herself to have a smoke out on Rani’s balcony. She was a bit drunk and needed some air. Rani joined her after five minutes, carrying two martinis. They clinked glasses, looked each other in the eye and took a gulp each. Rani took a puff off Zarina’s cigarette. She inhaled deeply and exhaled the smoke. “You know I was always in awe of you in school. I aspired to be you. To be just like you. Everyone loved you,” she said in her melodious voice. But she was dead serious now.

Zarina was taken back. “Well you had friends too.” It was a bit of a pathetic response. They both knew Rani had been a lame duck in school.

“Not like you darling,” Rani responded. “You were my hero. I always wished I was more like you. I guess I am now.” She took a sip of her martini and stared long and hard into Zarina’s eyes. Zarina was dumbfounded, almost embarrassed.

Rani dropped her voice, and continued. “Look, I don’t beat around the bush. I’ve never been with a woman but…I have always been enamored with you. And now…” She took a step towards Zarina. Her voice trailed off.

Zarina looked at her. Rani’s eyes were moist. “Come on. It’s not like everyone didn’t know you were a dyke in school. You were so fucking Lisa.” Lisa was a Malyali Christian who had been the top student in the class and Zarina’s deputy prefect. It was true. But how the hell did everyone know? “Yes, well….that was a long time ago….” Zarina was stumped for words.

Rani stepped forward. Her cleavage went all the way down. Zarina felt her desire get the better of her. “Make love to me, tonight, darling. Anywhere you like. In the bathroom, on the floor, up against the wall. You choose. I will tell all these assholes to leave.” Rani was so close to Zarina she could smell the alcohol on her breath mixed in with her perfume. Zarina said nothing but her eyes said it all.

True to her word, Rani asked everyone including Rahul and Jai, the two amorous gay guys to leave. With the last guest gone, Rani turned to Zarina. They were standing at two opposite ends of the room. Rani bit her lip, and moved towards Zarina. Zarina was rooted to the spot. She could see the young, gawky girl in school underneath these alternating hot and cool layers of womanly intrigue. She wanted to tap into the deep well of Rani’s soul, and hold it close if even for just one night. She felt something for the woman walking towards her. Was it a sudden tenderness? Zarina felt an ache in the pit of her stomach. With every step Rani took, Zarina could feel the desire creeping closer, threatening to overtake her.

Missing Wet Wednesdays

Sasha Bings — Wed, 16 Sep 2009 04:53:46 +0000

Dear Lezzies,

I apologize that I have been errant in my responsibilities in delivering sexy stories to you every week. The truth is I have been having so much damn sex I have no time to write stories. I met the most fantastic, sexy, gorgeous damsel who makes my heart go boom boom, and boy, does she take over the bedroom. I thought I was the one in charge – and always have been, seeing Zarina is my alter ego – but ooph! This is something else. I am in a different stratosphere.

I said it was my day job that kept me from writing, but it’s the sex. Still, it all goes down into the annals of bedroom research. The fountain of erotica spills forth from personal experience, after all. Please forgive me, but be happy that a lezzie is getting laid. And how!

I will continue writing once I get enough sleep. These days, it’s all about the loving caresses and the steamy aftermath. And don’t forget the orgasms.

Yours faithfully,
Sasha Bings

Review Short Film Fest : Queer Nazaria

Guest Author — Fri, 11 Sep 2009 06:09:10 +0000

[Guest Author : Sophie Parisse]

Queer Nazaria, the event was well attended (more than houseful, roughly about 90 to 100 people), by a mixed crowd, ranging from individuals of our very own LGBT community and visiting LGBT individuals from Singapore to members of the Alliance Française. This allowed for very diverse and heated interventions after the films screenings.

There was a brief introduction of the films as well as the film makers before every film.

We kicked off with The Marching Season by Grace Chapman and Emma Jones. The film had a beautiful response. It was so appropriate to this pre-march event since it looks at the history of pride marches while drawing a parallel between the London and Riga pride marches that had been twinned in 2007. The film was followed by a brief update on the Riga marches in 2008 and 2009.

The discussion that followed started with a kind of ping pong match between the ’straight’ viewers who were wondering why the LGBT community took up so much effort for the right to get married since we know that the institution of marriage doesn’t work. This was very aptly replied to by a member of our community. Positive comments were also given by the audience regarding the film like the one by an American native who had been part of the stonewall events and was delighted to see how the filmmakers had brought these historical events alive in their film.

After looking at the community and its rights as a whole we then moved into a more intimate and personal space with Love and Words by Sylvie Ballyot that took us eastwards, to Yemen. Love and Words is not easy to categorize: it is simultaneously a film about a film that was never shot, a documentation about Yemeni youth, and their responses to love, marriage and homosexuality, and a story about a forbidden love. The film has long shots and a landscape of various minute sounds. The only dialogues are the interviews with the Yemeni youth, otherwise it is almost silent. The filmmaker chooses to work with titles to narrate her story instead of having a voice over. The film also looks at the way different cultures love, their contrast and how this can create shocks between two individuals of different cultures who love each other.

There were a few individuals who left the room since this is not an easy film to watch and disturbs by its form and content. After the screening individuals of the audience stated their feelings about what they just saw. I came to know that the film was still discussed among people during the weekend following the screening.

Then we had a short tea and samosa break.

Though a few people left after the break the screening room was still pretty much full for the second part of the program that brought us home.

We started the short films with The Bath by Sachin Kundalkar which interested me because of its link with section 377 without being per say an LGBT issue since it looks at male prostitution.

Tejal Shah’s, What are You? is a video part of an art installation that includes photography and sounds scapes. The video itself explores the idea of transgender and rights within the Indian context of the hijra community.

To end, Subuhi Jiwani’s Queer Azaadi March was a wink to our last year’s march and an invitation to attend this year’s march. Subuhi was present and responded to the audience questions on her film.

Then an individual declared us perverts. This statement ended up into a debate whether an open space like Queer Nazaria could tolerate this kind of negative allegations which obviously didn’t take the dialogue beyond the offensive/defensive type. Instead would rejection of the LGBT community bring about a more elaborated interaction leading to somewhere if it was done in a more thoughtful way?

We never got to know why that uncle declared us perverts.

In a more constructive way two very interesting points were discussed; Are pride marches really helping towards building visibility and acceptance in a positive way for the majority of the society. Or are these marches just our own celebration for our own pleasure?

Could we imagine other strategies and what would they resemble?

Here a person from Singapore visiting Bombay explained how the LGBT community there counters the government that tries to silence them by going to educational institutions to spread awareness on LGBT issues among the youth.

We had many very positive returns by the public regarding this event. Many asked us to take something like this forward into a full fleshed film festival that could go on for several days.

Cheers from Bombay

Movie Review : I Can’t Think Straight

Guest Author — Thu, 03 Sep 2009 05:00:31 +0000

[Guest Author : DeepSeas]

I can’t think Straight was a much awaited movie – not the least because of its sexy trailers of the romantic scenes between Lisa Ray and Sheetal Sheth. It is based on the novel by the same name by Shamim Sarif, who has also directed the film. It is, in essence, a cute lesbian romantic story between the protagonists Tala (who comes from a rich Jordanian family) and Leyla (of Indian Muslim origin, settled in UK), neither of whom has considered any kind of Lesbian-orientation very seriously – not even properly acknowledged it to their own selves.

The movie opens with the story of Tala – a chronic engagement-breaker (she has called of 3 engagements already). The story starts with her 4^th (and hopefully last) engagement. She meets Leyla through Ali –whom Leyla is currently dating. Tala comes across as an outspoken, rebellious girl with a mind of her own while Leyla is shy, introspective girl who dreams of becoming a writer. The romance unfolds slowly, with neither of them being ready to label their relationship as anything more than friendship at first. Finally one scene between Leyla and her sister, where she confronts Leyla about her friendship with Tala, brings out Leyla’s confused emotions. Matters come to a point-of-no-return when Tala and Leyla are on a holiday together and finally acknowledge their real feelings. From thereon starts the drama – as both are under pressure from their families to get married and must make a choice between family and social norms & true love and inner calling. Although, Tala seems to be the more headstrong of the two, it is Leyla who comes out to her parents first, while Tala is fearful of upsetting her parents by breaking off her engagement. At this point they break-off, only to (predictably) get back together in the end.

It is a good watch as a light breezy romantic tale however one feels some of issues, which could have been given more in-depth treatment, have been glossed over. For eg. – both the protagonists coming out to their parents scenes. The onewhere Tala comes out to her parents, is behind closed doors –even the audience is not privy to it. You would perhaps expect more turbulence in a Muslim family after such blasphemous revelations, that too by a woman. Also the attempts to provide comic relief in the form of Tala’s family’s spitting in the coffee made for the mother are rather unnecessary and very Bollywoodish. On the plus side it is watchable for its two beautiful lead actors who do their best to infuse life and vivaciousness in the plot with their performances. Sheetal Sheth in particular is a few notches higher in the acting department. The chemistry between them is good and the lovemaking scene (though not intensely passionate as ‘Bound’ or Desert Hearts] is gentle, flirty and sweet.

Nonetheless it has its own charm and do watch it once if only to not miss out on a Lesbian flick and to enjoy the lighter moments with lots of eye candy.

FAQueer: Have Western influences caused some Indians to turn gay?

Broom - Editor — Mon, 31 Aug 2009 23:00:52 +0000

Well, if the Mahabharata and several ancient temples had Western influences, then homosexuality in India has been caused by the West.

Homosexuality has been around in India way before America and England had any influence over our culture. The West gave us washing machines and dishwashers, but they can’t take credit for the lovely gay people that our country has produced.

Take this for example:

Two Kondh women from Orissa’s Koraput district have defied all norms of their tribal society to live as ‘man and wife’ after tying the knot recently. Bateka Palang, 30, wed her bride, 25-year-old Maleka Nilsa of Ghumuru village in Bandhugaon block in a traditional ceremony at Dandabadi, a remote village in Narayanpatna block, in the presence of family.

The village has given its grudging approval—the elders have asked residents not to talk about it to outsiders for fear of shame—to the relationship that was formalised after all the usual wedding rituals, including dowry changing hands.[Link]

These two tribal women live in a remote village in the middle of Orissa, I think they’re pretty safe from that deadly Western influence.

You would do well to begin clearing your misconceptions by reading this post on Gaysi by Dr. Devdutt Pattanaik:

An overview of temple imagery, sacred narratives and religious scriptures does suggest that homosexual activities – in some form – did exist in ancient India. Though not part of the mainstream, its existence was acknowledged but not approved. There was some degree of tolerance when the act expressed itself in heterosexual terms – when men ‘became women’ in their desire for other men, as the hijra legacy suggests. The question that remains now is: how does attitudes towards homosexuals in ancient India affect modern-day attitudes? Is our approval or disapproval of same-sex affection and intercourse dependent on ancient values? And while we ponder over the questions, we must remind ourselves that the ancient sources that censure homosexual conduct, also institutionalized the caste system and approved the subservience of women. [Link]

Another great resource is the book “Same-Sex Love in India: Readings from Literature and History” by Ruth Vanita and Saleem Kidwai.

Being gay is hard. Trust me, I know. Everyday I am faced with the decision of whether it’s ok to hold my partner’s hand in a particular restaurant or is it ok to tell my colleagues that I’m gay. Will the girl I’m friendly with think I’m hitting on her, because I’m gay. I live in Canada where gay people have pretty much the same rights as straight people and even then I have to worry about certain things that straight people will never have to worry about. I can’t imagine how hard it must be to live as an openly gay or even closeted gay person in India.

Being gay is not a choice and I know this because nobody in their right mind would choose this life of secrecy and enforced shame and trauma. Nobody will watch “Imagine Me & You” and think “Wow! Being gay is so cool – let me give up the relatively easier heterosexual life I can have and turn gay instead”. Nobody will listen to “I Kissed A Girl” and think, “Oh! That must be so awesome! Let me just torture my parents and tell them that I am now going to be gay because I heard a cool Western song”.

I just want to add, that while I probably wouldn’t have chosen to be born gay especially not based on some Hollywood movie or Pop song, since I am gay and am with a girl that I love with all my heart and who makes me happier than I could ever have imagined, I am happy that I am gay. I wouldn’t want it any other way.

FAQueer: Is there a “cure” for homosexuality?

Broom - Editor — Fri, 28 Aug 2009 18:30:51 +0000

There are many variations to this question:

Can a special ‘pooja‘ make my child straight? Can yoga “cure” my child? Can a psychologist “cure” my child?

The long and short answer is: NO.

You can pray for a million dollars to fall from the sky into your lap and you’re more likely to get your prayers answered than if you try to pray away the gay!

Think about it, can you pray that someone turns gay? I certainly pray that every homophobic person I meet turns gay. It hasn’t worked. So stop praying for the cure and pray for the million dollars instead.

Rainy Days – Finale

Sasha Bings — Wed, 26 Aug 2009 07:56:01 +0000

* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

In the Bedroom

Zarina walked out of the coffee-shop with Mallika. There was a slight drizzle of rain. They walked in silence to Mallika’s apartment in Colaba opposite the Fariyas Hotel; Mallika looked drained. She was taking the rest of the day off. Neither of them said much but the tension between them was palpable. Why had Zarina agreed to meet her? Suddenly she felt like she was back at Ground Zero. The earth opened up and was swallowing her whole. Mallika leaned forward, pecked Zarina on the cheek. Zarina couldn’t look her in the eye. They said their byes and Zarina walked solemnly back to her office in Nariman Point. She needed the long walk to calm her mind which was in tumultuous upheaval.

That awkward coffee meeting was followed by two subsequent days of incessant messaging, which turned to sexual innuendo until neither of them could take it anymore. The spark had been lit. They could never keep their hands off each other when they were together. It felt like just yesterday that Zarina had made love to Mallika. Her groin throbbed hard at the thought of her tongue all over Mallika’s buttery skin, exploring every crevice of her body, deeply inside of her, tongue-fucking her. Oh god! How Mallika drove her wild. She wanted to fuck Mallika so badly it hurt.

Mallika asked Zarina to come over on Saturday afternoon under the pretext of talking. They had to work through their issues; she didn’t want to lose Zarina in her life, Mallika said. Yet from the moment Zarina walked through the door of Mallika’s small but intimate apartment, they found each other. They groped like wild animals, kissing ardently and desperately, tongues entwined, breathing hard, falling all over the place.

Zarina allowed Mallika to lead her to the bedroom, undressing herself slowly along the way, making sure Zarina watched her every movement. Off went her t-shirt, her bra, her track pants, her panties as she removed them in her sexy, nonchalant way. Zarina held the door frame tight as Mallika bent over, naked, her arse opening up in Zarinas direction, as she planted herself on the bed.

Mallika lay on the bed naked, one leg crooked up on the bed, the other lazily splayed out so that her pussy was fully visible from the door. Her ex-lover stood at the entrance in partial shadow watching her. One of Mallika’s arms flopped up against the soft white pillows, framing her head. Her other hand stroked her luxurious golden tits, she fondled her brown nipples between her thumb and forefinger, making them hard to the touch. She knew it excited Zarina when she touched her own body in this way.

Zarina watched from the door, biting her lip; she tasted blood. Months had gone by and yet there was never a day when Zarina didn’t imagine this: Mallika naked, splayed out on the bed, a lazy afternoon, the creamy golden hue of her body highlighted by the few shafts of light coming in through the drawn curtains.

Mallika continued to stroke her tits, she put her two forefingers inside her mouth, sucked on them and then put the saliva back on her tits, wetting them, then pulled them, played with them. Zarina could feel the unbearable throbbing in her groin. “I want you to touch yourself baby,” ordered Mallika. Zarina obeyed. Her right hand went inside her pants, inside her baby pink lace panties….God, she was so fucking wet! Her panties were already drenched. She found the throbbing button and stroked it. “Touch yourself naked,” ordered Mallika.

Zarina removed her clothes. Mallika stared hard, making sure Zarina was self-conscious, shy with her gaze. Zarina’s large tits were now exposed and excited. With one hand she opened her pussy, and with the other she fondled her large button that was throbbing like mad now. “Don’t make yourself come,” sighed Mallika, her breath heavy, from the bed. “Not yet.” She was going insane watching Zarina this way. She wanted Zarina’s huge tits in her mouth. She wanted to suck them while Zarina’s nimble fingers played with her pussy. She wanted to be finger-fucked while she sucked on Zarina’s melons. Almost as if reading her mind, Zarina walked over to the bed, slowing down and taking in the length of Mallika’s body when she was just inches away from the bed.

“Fucking come here! I can’t take it any more!” Mallika’s eyes were moist with pleasure, with desire, with anticipation. She wanted Zarina close to her, her heat pulsing through her body, her hands groping at every part of her, pinching her, squeezing her, biting her, sucking her, giving her goosebumps. She grabbed Zarina and pulled her close to her, wrapping her legs around her body, her wetness spilling onto Zarina’s body like a fountain. She found her lips and forced Zarina’s tongue deeply into her mouth. Zarina’s head was spinning, her heart and pulse racing, she squeezed Mallika’s hard, wet breast. Mallika groaned. “I’ve wanted you so badly baby…” Her voice trailed off.

Zarina’s fingers were now on Mallika’s pussy, inside of it, moving in and out, slowly, then hard, harder, until she was fucking Mallika with her fingers. “God baby, look at how you’re fucking me!” Groaned Mallika, her head thrown back on the pillows. She grabbed the sheets. Her tits bounced back and forth with the momentum of Zarina’s thrusting in and out of her. Her legs were thrown high up in the air, opening up her pussy. Zarina’s one hand supported her ass and squeezed it hard. Mallika squealed, as she panted and groaned hard. Her button felt like it was going to explode. “Faster baby, faster.”

Zarina put in a second finger and thrust harder. With her thumb she stroked the rim of Mallika’s asshole until it opened up to let her in. She alternated fucking Mallika’s pussy and her ass. Mallika loved to be butt-fucked in this way too. She loved it when Zarina would tongue fuck her asshole. Mallika was on fire. Zarina’s tongue was now flicking Mallika’s button while she continued to fuck her two holes.

“Do you want me to stop?” teased Zarina. She was fully in control of Mallika’s body now. It was doing everything she wanted it to do, responding in the ways it used to. She wanted Mallika to come so fucking hard. Mallika moaned and groaned. “No God no! Don’t you dare!” She threatened as she let out a low moan. “Oh god baby, I’m coming, I’m coming….Oh God! Don’t stop, don’t stop.” Her voice was reaching a high pitch now. Zarina could feel Mallika’s body climaxing. Moments before Mallika came, Zarina withdrew her fingers from Mallika’s enlarged throbbing hole, and took her clit gently in her mouth and sucked on it. Mallika came, with Zarina’s head firmly between her legs, her hand grabbing Zarina’s head, pushing her face into her pussy. She let out one loud, long final groan as her pussy went into multiple convulsions, spasming wildly as she orgasmed. “Yes baby, just like that, just how I like it.” Her button throbbed and was sore with pain and pleasure inside of her ex-lovers mouth.

As Mallika’s breathing slowed down, Zarina lay alongside her, her hand caressed her ex-lover’s body gently, moving up and down it like a feather. It tickled and pleased Mallika. Mallika’s body was still hot, her head flushed. After a while, Mallika looked up at her ex-lover, meeting her dark eyes lost in the throes of love. Her eyes implored Zarina’s and she dared to ask: “Do you love me?” Zarina’s hand stopped where they were between Mallika’s breasts. She raised the hand to cup Mallika’s face, and drew herself closer, kissing her cheeks, her closed eyelids and her forehead. Just then, a shaft of light fell on Zarina’s face. She squinted towards the light as she held Mallika against her breast. “What is love, darling?” she sighed, as she stroked her ex-lover’s bare back.

Mumbai Queer Azaadi, 2009

MJ — Mon, 24 Aug 2009 07:27:47 +0000

FAQueer: How do I know if my child is a lesbian?

Broom - Editor — Thu, 20 Aug 2009 02:00:20 +0000

First the stereotype. People often think of lesbians as having short-hair, their upper lips unwaxed, their clothes manly, their behaviour closely resembling a man. While this is true of some lesbians, it is not true for others. Think Portia De Rossi. Think Cynthia Nixon. Sorry I don’t have any Indian examples for you. If you’ll take my word for it, I can tell you that I know desi lesbians that are feminine and girly and I know desi lesbians that are boyish and I know some that are in between.

So if your daughter does not wear saris and salwar kameezes or wears baggy jeans with flannel shirts, don’t assume that she’s a lesbian. On the other hand, if your daughter does dress in a very feminine manner and has a beauty parlour appointment every 2 weeks, that doesn’t mean she is straight.

Not very helpful, I know. What can I say – there is nothing really that makes someone a lesbian other than their attraction to women. The culture in India makes it even harder to guess one’s sexuality, because there is so much affection between people of the same gender.

In my case, I had tons of crushes on girls right from the ripe age of 12. I had crushes on my friends, my teachers, tennis players (I had a HUGE poster of Jennifer Capriati on my bedroom wall), actresses (Madhuri Dixit, Dimple Kapadia mmmm). The thing is I didn’t realise it, but it should have been obvious to anyone paying attention – I liked girls.

So pay attention to your child. This does not mean that you should rifle through her stuff or try to hack into her email account or pick up the extension phone and eavesdrop on her phone calls.

At the end of the day, if you’ve asked this question – “How do I know?” – it hopefully means that you suspect something but haven’t been a drama queen about it. It means that you want to understand this and so whether your child is a lesbian or not – she has a good parent in you.

Rainy Days

Sasha Bings — Wed, 19 Aug 2009 04:25:56 +0000

* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

Memory Lane-2

Mallika was already waiting at their table when Zarina arrived at India Jones. She was checking messages on her blackberry and she looked up as Zarina approached. Perfectly mannered, as Zarina would have guessed, she stood up and extended her hand, clasping Zarina’s in it. They gave each other a kiss on the cheek before Zarina sat down, adjusting the crimson colored skirt she was wearing.

“Hi, I hope you like this place,” Zarina said. “I come here all the time.”

“I must admit this is my first time here,” responded Mallika. “I will have to take your recommendation on what to order.”

Zarina was used to ordering – she liked to be in control. She ordered all her favorite dishes, making sure Mallika didn’t have any allergies or dislikes. She called for a bottle of Chilean white wine for them.

Mallika wore a halter neck printed top with a floral design. Her tanned arms were perfectly toned. Her nails done. Zarina was thankful she went through the trouble of going to the spa that day.
The interior of India Jones was warm and cosy that night with candles at the table. There was a good buzz around them, mostly couples and foreign businessmen. A group of Japanese businessmen had already had their fill of alcohol, judging from their ruddy faces and loud mirth.

“So, Zarina, tell me about yourself.” Mallika took the lead. Clearly, she didn’t want to talk business which suited Zarina perfectly.

“Well, where should I start?” Zarina looked at Mallika almost shyly. Mallika smiled back. The warmth of her smile, with the candlelight dancing off her face, made her look like a Renaissance Madonna. Zarina felt like she had come home.
They talked for hours about everything. Zarina learned they had a lot in common: they both had cried for days after reading “The God of Small Things,” loved Jack Nicholson in “The Shining” and thought Angelina Jolie was the hottest woman alive. (Mallika added that Brad Pitt had a cute butt).

“I have to admit I’m a bit of a homebody. I haven’t been out on a Friday or Saturday in ages unless it was for a movie,” divulged Zarina. “I just hate the crass drinking culture in Bombay. I mean I did that so much while I was studying in the U.S.”

“Well, it doesn’t leave you with much to do on the weekend then does it?” asked Mallika. It turned out Mallika was the same way. She added: “Well, let’s just say, I’ve grown fond of pizza and the company of my cats on Friday and Saturday nights!”
They both laughed and polished off their wine. Zarina filled their glasses up.

Well into their third bottle of wine and over a helping of sea bass, Mallika told Zarina about her family, her mother’s death when she was just 14 and how she had struggled with her relationship with her stepmother for years. “It’s the reason I left Delhi and went to Australia to study,” she confided. “I was dying to get out.” She suddenly went quiet. Zarina extended her hand across the table and touched Mallika’s hand gently, almost as a reflex. Mallika didn’t resist her touch. They were both quite tipsy from the wine now.

“And what about you?” asked Mallika. “Tell me more about you.”
“Well, I lived in the States for six years. I went to New York University and then went to graduate school for art and design out in California. I didn’t want to come back to India but my Dad wasn’t well so I had no choice. I’m an only child.”

“Why didn’t you want to come back?”

“I hate this place to be honest. I don’t feel like….” Zarina hesitated.

“Like I can really be myself.” She stopped.

“I know what you mean,” responded Mallika. “I feel very trapped here. I wish I could go back to Australia sometimes.”

“No, well it’s a bit different. You see, I’m…I’m…well, I’m gay you see.” Zarina knew she had just jumped off a cliff but she didn’t care; she was free-falling. She lowered her gaze and took a sip of her wine. This evening is so over, she told herself. Well done, Zarina. You can pat yourself on the back now.

To Zarina’s complete and utter surprise, Mallika burst out laughing.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Zarina didn’t know whether to be vexed or perplexed.

“My best friend in Australia was a lesbian,” she said. “What is it with me and lesbos?!”

Zarina looked like someone had pulled down her pants. “I don’t know….,” she stuttered, “I guess we all live in the woodwork and come out sometimes!” She relaxed a bit and grinned sheepishly at Mallika.

“Come on now, don’t be so sullen. There are worse things in life. Let’s pay for this meal and go get some ice-cream. I’m drunk and this place is just way too stuffy!”

Advice for desi parents with a gaysi child

Broom - Editor — Tue, 18 Aug 2009 02:27:06 +0000

Dear parents of a gay child,

I recently told my parents that I am gay. It was, as you might expect, not fun and games – for them or for me. They said some pretty crazy things – all very politely, and I think it’s because there is not much out there in terms of information and support for desi parents who have an gay child.

So I’m thinking of writing a series of posts on what to do if (hai ram!) your child is gay. And like all good desis I am giving you unwarranted and unwanted gyaan.

Now, remember, I don’t have any professional credentials and my research is restricted to my own experiences and to the experiences of my gaysi friends. So sue me. (Actually please don’t.)

Also this advice might apply to not just parents, but also friends and family and perhaps just to us gaysis.

Watch out for our new FAQueer series.

Equal…Ya Rite!

MJ — Mon, 17 Aug 2009 06:38:50 +0000

And we thought grass was greener on the other side. Guess not.

The usual slew of groups will be marching in the parade, from the “Telugu Literary and Cultural Association” to the VHP-A (yes, them again). One group that petitioned to march but was denied is SALGA, the South Asian Lesbian and Gay Association. SALGA has fought in the past to participate, and won that fight. However, the refusal this year carries an extra sting, since it was only a few weeks ago that the Delhi High Court threw out the old ban on homosexuality in India (as I understand it, the Supreme Court later upheld the Delhi High Court’s ruling, making the decriminalization of homosexuality a national fact). [Link]

Some mentalities just refuse to grow up.

Delhi Pride, 2009

MJ — Sat, 15 Aug 2009 05:52:15 +0000

[Pictures contributed by da gorgeous Ms. Gangwani. What can I say, I'm forever indebted. Thank You.]

When Baba Ramdev Broke My Heart

MJ — Fri, 14 Aug 2009 05:02:36 +0000

Once upon a time, I use to admire this man. This man, Baba Ramdev. No no! Not because he wears the saffron dhoti. Or single handedly popularized Pantanjali’s yoga shaastra. Although I do give credit where it’s due – Baba Ramdev revived yoga (from its dormant form), commercialized it and turned it into ‘the-in-thing’. Screw Bollywood celebrities, this man is all international. Something even the likes of Aishwarya Rai took years and neednotmention loads of plastic to achieve. But this isn’t what caught my attention. Nor was I impressed by his claims of curing the curses of modern lifestyle; cancer, diabetes, AIDS and the likes.

I had a different reason.

You see, to me the man is the epitome of boldness. Courageous, to say the least. What? I hear you ask why?

Well, only a man of steel can be …so…so …carefree when it comes to display of body hair. Funny? But, no laughing matter this.

Be it the face, the chest, the neck, the bony torso, tooth pick hands & legs and let’s not forget the greasy armpits *shudders all over*; where ever you look, there you shall find – da synchronized breathing yogi hair.

And ,clearly our man is proud of this ghar ka kheeti. Then again, why shouldn’t he be? He has over 85 million eyeballs fixed intently on him. A stunt even our khatron ka khiladi aka Akki Kumar couldn’t pull off before deciding to go down the razor alley.

But as they say – all good things must come to an end.

Babaji ruthlessly tore my sentiments to shreds when he termed Homosexuality as a disease, when clinically, his statement holds no ground. So, in other words, he tagged me as being ‘infected’ – his loyal fan – me – someone who admired his hirsuteness. Every strand of it, on this human excuse for a rubber band.

Why can’t some people just let it be? Ah…fragile is the human heart.

Thankfully though, balance still exists. If we have the likes of the self proclaimed moral gurus, we also have the likes of Manavendra Singh Gohil, the morally spirited.

My faith in humanity lives on. Just not in hair. And their babas.

Rainy Days

Sasha Bings — Wed, 12 Aug 2009 09:31:36 +0000

* Note : Contains Explicit Sexual Content

Memory Lane-1

Zarina and Mallika walked in silence to Mallika’s apartment opposite the Fariyas Hotel in Colaba. Mallika was calling in sick for the rest of the day. She looked wiped out. Zarina wanted to put her arm around her and hold her close. She kept quiet and walked alongside her ex-lover with a weight on her shoulders of having so much to say, but saying nothing at all. A light drizzle of rain fell on them.

Mallika, like Zarina, was a self-made entrepreneur. She had a small publishing firm that focused on art, entertainment and design and that’s how they had met. Zarina had got a reference from a mutual acquaintance and called up Mallika’s firm to discuss a book she was working on. After countless emails and phone calls exchanged over four months they finally met in Mallika’s office in Churchgate.

It was love at first sight, at least for Zarina. From the moment their eyes met, Zarina felt as if she was looking into a deep well. Mallika’s soulfulness countered Zarina’s cool and aloof demeanor. She felt immediately at ease with the woman sitting opposite her, across the table. Mallika had her hair up that day, in a clip with a few loose strands falling around her neck. She wore a smart pair of black-rimmed Ralph Lauren glasses perched delicately on the bridge of her nose and she had left the top two buttons of her white shirt unbuttoned, giving her an air of casual elegance. They talked for an hour about the book project. Mallika had a fresh approach; she was unlike any other publisher Zarina had met. “Finally,” Zarina, remembered thinking, “a publisher who has a vision.”

As Zarina was leaving her office, Mallika got up, leaned over and they shook hands over the table. She moved gracefully away from the table and accompanied Zarina up to the door. Then she did a strange thing. She put her hand gently on Zarina’s shoulder and leaned over and whispered in her ear “I think we have a winner.” She was referring to the book project of course, but Zarina was suddenly paralyzed by Mallika’s closeness to her. The smell of her perfume – Zarina imagined the mysterious expanse of the ocean – made her heart beat three times faster. Mallika leaned back, gave Zarina a wink and bade her goodbye. Her smile, full lips with a light shade of lipstick, slightly lopsided with laughter lines at the corners, stayed impressed in Zarina’s mind. She would always love that smile.

For the next few days, Zarina could think of nothing else. Her pulse raced every time she thought of Mallika and her physical closeness to her that day. Zarina knew she had to be near Mallika again. After three interminably long days, Zarina mustered up the courage to call Mallika and ask her out to dinner. Mallika agreed readily – and on a Friday night! Zarina knew better than to take it as a sign, but she was elated anyway.

Zarina had no idea if Mallika was gay, or even bi, but somehow it didn’t matter. They could be good friends. Zarina didn’t meet many like-minded souls in the city. And she liked the way Mallika’s mind worked. She was not only beautiful but smart and sassy in her own way. Zarina wanted to get to know her better. “It’s not every day you connect to someone who gets you,” Zarina told herself.

On the day of their meeting, Zarina took the day off and went to the spa. She had a long soothing massage, a facial and got her hair and nails done. It had been ages since Zarina had a date. Work had taken over her life and she had put away the trivialities of romance while building her business. One heartbreak too many had made her averse to dating. Mallika was different though. After a long time, Zarina had felt the fluttering of her sleeping heart.

Zarina was determined to enjoy the evening in Mallika’s company. She would be utterly charming, with no expectations. No expectations. She repeated it to herself a few times as she looked at herself in the mirror that evening before she ventured out. She looked stunning. The months of workouts had really toned her body. Zarina saw herself with new eyes. She took a deep breath and moved away the strand of hair that had fallen across her face, and tucked it behind her ear. She wished herself good luck, picked up her house keys from the dressing table and walked out the front door, closing it gently behind her.

Surprising Conversations

Guest Author — Tue, 11 Aug 2009 01:27:23 +0000

[Guest Author: The Bride]

This post on Gaysi Family made me recall a couple of conversations.

One night I asked V what how he would react if his child told him he was gay. The thing is while I tend to analyse issues and think about these things quite a lot, V tends to coast along without really declaring himself.

Some people have these conversations before getting married to determine whether they are compatible. This is probably the sensible route but it’s not one I took. I plunged into, if not marriage, the idea of marriage and never had any serious discussion about fundamentals (except about living with his parents, which I said I wouldn’t do, and which V now says he doesn’t remember happening so that was entirely pointless). Also, V tends to be pretty much the standard Indian male, except that he does a lot more housework and seems to have a pretty chalta hai attitude to most things (except me not making the bed in the morning, which I never do anyway).

His answer was automatic: But you have to expect that now. What he meant is that in his mind, the possibility of one’s child being gay is as likely as one’s child being straight so how could one be shocked or surprised. Now sometimes I’m never exactly sure if V means what he says – but this time I was sure he meant it.

I confessed that I might be a tad unsettled. Ironic huh? And I thought I was liberal one. My concerns are twofold:
a) It’s just easier to be straight because society already has a framework to deal with it.
b) I don’t like thinking about gay sex (ie- only the male-male version, not the female-female one).

To which V replied: You won’t be able to handle thinking about your child having sex even if he/she is straight so how does that matter?

Heh. Fair enough.

More recently, after the High Court ruling, I asked V how he thought his parents would have reacted if he told them he was gay. He thought for a bit and then said: “They probably wouldn’t tell anyone.” “But would they accept you?” I asked. “They would have to, no?” he said.

Heh. True also.

Then he added: “They accepted you.” Hmph!

Tum Gay Ho?

MJ — Thu, 06 Aug 2009 05:41:30 +0000

Over the decades, urban Indian parents have chipped away one reservation after another in the interests of their children’s well-being. Most parents today easily accept that their children may marry someone outside their caste, creed, and even race. They accept their children’s drinking, dressing, and dates. But even the most liberal parents are finding it difficult to consider the possibility that their child may be gay. [Link]

This is a piece written by Manju Sara Rajan for Open Magazine, which briefly touches on the subject of straight Indian parents and their homosexual children.

For a moment it took me back to 80s & very early 90s filmy scenarios. You know the bit where hi-fi bling bling parents learning that their beloved, overly pampered eklauta child has fallen in love, in a high pitched tone utter these very words – Love…tumhe love ho gaya? How dare?

My apologies for this amusing flashback, but the situation today is pretty much the same no? Replace Love with Gay and you have – Tum Gay ho? How dare?

The other day I was asked by a friend if the recent Delhi High Court ruling of IPC 377 would make it easier for gay kids to come out to their families. Honestly, there is no doubt that the ruling will make lives of the Queer folks a hell lot easier. But, how it impacts the thinking process of our very culturally-centric society is something that we will have to only wait and watch.

Parents, no matter how liberated or modern they come across, no matter how educated they are and no matter how much they love us, are aam junta (the Mango people) who are society bound. A fact we, unfortunately, cannot ignore. They can imagine the worst and possibly the most outrageous outcome for someone else’s child and, at times be mind-bogglingly accepting of another’s rebellious actions but when it comes to their own flesh and blood – “How dare?” is a universal response.