Day 10,104 - Wednesday - 24 Vaisakh 1930 - 08 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 14 May 2008

Right now, I am in an incredibly romantic, lonely, longing, bored and expectant mood. Extremely. Bittersweet feelings. A mellow painful longing.

Someone I was chatting online with sent me a link on Greys Anatomy where these two guys are kissing. And, it felt so pure, so lovely and so intense. I just slipped into this mood.

I am thinking that, since I am fat, ugly, and non sexually attractive. I might never find someone. And what of a life lived alone. I know what I want. But I cant get it. What do I do now? Get married?

Yueck! Absolutely confused.

Day 10,102 - Monday - 22 Vaisakh 1930 - 06 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 12 May 2008

What utter, absolute, insane, useless madness! Why the hell do I get a proposition of the softer kind from a woman every fortnight. Why? I shall pen my reply for the coming generations to read. No, I do not want to sleep with you. No, I do not want to fall in love with you. No, I do not want to marry you. And no, I do not want to spend the rest of my life fathering your children. Thank you very much. I would rather have sex with OC from work, if only I had the courage to go upto him and he turns out to be gay, and if he is interested in sex, and if he is interested in me and we are able to find a suitable setting that will allow sex. And now that I have shown you all how seriously I feel about being propositioned by women I think I will still be able to marry a lesbian. Insane, you say? Yes, I reply.

Longish story shortish, doesnt make sense, but I went out for dinner with FF. Now she is a very close friend of a very close friend. And for some reason she thinks that the dinner was not a dinner. She thinks it was a “Dinner Thing”. I will give my listing of engagements below, but till such time, a dinner thing with FF is not a good thing. I can do dinner things with men, with whome there are possibilities, but with women it is just disturbing. As is all the incessant chatter about feelings and emotions. For Goodnesses sake, if I had feelings and emotions I would be menstruating right now.

So, I have no idea what to tell FF. She is expecting something, a call or another dinner or something. And here I am fuck scared of what to do. Maybe I am becoming a normal man, fear of commitment, not calling up women you meet up. Etc. Etc. But, all the same, I cant tell her I am gay, so I need an excuse.

Ladies? Your help required. Which is the best possible excuse?

Another thing, since my engagement has fallen apart and I was uncereminiously dumped by Dr Sahab after having fallen in love with him, women just cant get enough of me. I tell them that even though I didnt like my fiance I was ready to do it for the sake of family honour and she still dumped me, I can see the expression in their eyes stating firmly that my fiance was an idiot and I am God. Of course when I talked about Dr Sahab (converted into a female of course) and the fact that I fell in love with him (her sic?); the eyes, the eyes of the women I tell this to; their eyes become mellow and soft and pink. I can not explain. It is as if in their personal list of human beings I have climbed up twenty billion rungs of the ladder of humanity.

Ah, to be able to manipulate. I love it!

Day 10,101 - Sunday - 21 Vaisakh 1930 - 05 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 11 May 2008

Over the past three days I have been immersed in the concept of friendship. What is a friend? What are friends? How does one become a friend? How does one feel about friends? Why do you take money from me and not return it? Why do I keep the books I borrow from them? And why the hell does NA not follow the codes of conduct of Pakistan male friendship groups. I shall provide a little bit of perspective below.

Pakistani men are a rare breed. In any group of Pakistani male friends conversation revolves around consistent badgering of one of the group by all the others. Generally there is an inevitable policy of turn based circulation of responsibilities. So, if twelve people heckled the fuck out of me last night, I will be doing it to someone else tonight. Love it. But over the course of time some people are selected for this honour more than others.

Now, those of you who belong to the global social subset known as Pakistani-men-who-socialize-with-other-Pakistani-men know exactly what I am talking about. Those of you poor dear extremely unfortunate souls who do not belong to this group will not, can not and will never understand what I am talking about. Pity.

The mere beauty of spending six hours with your friends when eight people just break apart every aspect of your personality in every possible manner and find something ridiculously unacceptable with it and share it with the group and other people pick up on it and add to it. Six hours. A complete definition of yourself and everything that you are about. Amazing.

And then of course, when it just doesnt feel right, and no one has a bulls eye on their forehead, then the group just ends up discussing something absolutely useless and futile. Like yesterdays five hour long discussion on Pakistan, its future, whether we should make a difference or run away, whether we can make a difference, and why does Laetitia Casta have such beautiful boobies. For a gay guy my description of the boobies was very highly rated and one of my friends even went forward to the extent of labling me a closeted hetrosexual with a love for boobies.

I mean, all men love nipples. Gay or straight. Men love nipples. Get over it. And we are also all about the looks. And we fall in love differently. And we will not give you flowers all the time. And we will not tell you that we love you. And we will not treat sex as a gift. And we will not let go of the remote. And we will not stop meeting our friends. And of course, we will love sex. Get the fuck over it.

I am thinking about starting a relationship advice and another gay advice blogs. Dont know if I should go ahead with it.

Day 10,098 - Thursday - 18 Vaisakh 1930 - 02 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 08 May 2008

Apart from all the random whims, fancies and desired that I have on a day to day. Now I also want the ability to remember things that I wanted to blog about during the day. As I sit here I am clenching my fists just trying to remember what it was that I just had to blog about. But I have no idea what it was.

In other news, I am absolutely, completely, unequivocally, unabashedly and properly in love with Dilbert. The way office life is captured. Amazing. I love it. And I love Scott Adams. For all of you who work in offices, please dont waste time reading this collection of stupidities, go to Google and search for Dilbert online.

For the rest of you. Why are you still reading this. Google. Dilbert. Now! Or I will have to use my new leather belt!

Day 10,097 - Wednesday - 17 Vaisakh 1930 - 01 Jamadi ul Awwal 1429 - 07 May 2008

Although I am certain of the fact that nothing I say or do has the power of amazing any of you any more. But, even then, I will say it. I am a over excitable. When I exercise regularly; when I work less than ten hours a day; and when I do not have my personal life crashing around me I turn into super Jalal. There, shock!

What I mean by super Jalal is someone who walks very fast, talks very very fast, thinks faster than he is able to express in any given format, and most of all has his sex drive shooting across oceans. Bascially, long story short. I am super Jalal since Monday. Work has settled down. I am over Dr Sahab. I am exercising like a freak since I noticed that the previous month of slight exercise and diet control has started to make a visible difference. Please excuse me while I hit my head on the roof repeatedly.

And one interesting that happened today was a one hour call with Dr Sahab. Now that we are better off as “just friends” we really like to talk to each other. So he said something that made all of my previous psychotic fears and neurotic phobias suddenly come to life. He said that there are some people who completely think about something that has happened when it has not occurred at all. I have no idea what he was talking about. Was he talking about us. Becuase I remember occasions which meant that this is a relationship. Did he mean us breaking up. Which I am sure we did since he SMSd. Or, did I hallucinate this? Or did I have a psychotic / neurotic episode?

What the fuck was he talking about. Why the fuck am I so absolutely insane that at the slightest hint of someone saying something I start questioning myself? I need to get laid! Bye ;)

Day 10,094 - Sunday - 14 Vaisakh 1930 - 27 Rabi us Sani 1429 - 04 May 2008

So, basically, after being dumped for not being high on the looks scale, the consequent collapse in self esteem, and the ego shattering grovelling. I am quite over him. Took about twenty to thirty hours with myself. But now it is over. One thing I cant get over is the “you are a nice guy” comment when we broke up. I am not a nice guy. Since he didnt get to read my blog, he didnt know this.

I feel like laughing loudly, violently and in an evil manner. Like they do in the movies.

Moving on.

Had an interesting weekend. Met up with a lot of people. Including Dr Sahab, strictly as a nice guy friend.

I am such an idiot.

If there was an idiot meter. I would have broken it.

Day 10,092 - Friday - 12 Vaisakh 1930 - 25 Rabi us Sani 1429 - 02 May 2008

Abysmal. That just about sums up my performance over the past two days.

First Dr Sahab breaks up with me. And then he tells me that we should still be friends, reeling from this revelation he drops by to meet up “as friends” on Wednesday night. Just my luck.

I wake up on Thursday, decide that I can not do the friend thing. He calls me up late at night, just to talk, “as friends”. I told him that being friends is a bit too painful for me. And I think we should cease all contact. To that he gave me his opinion whereby people should be able to remain friends outside and/or after a relationship. But he was benificient enough to allow me to cease contact because different people behave differently. Two people with different opinions, but still able to not kill each other.

So, things had ended. All contact has ceased. I did not want that to happen. A part of me told me that if I remained friends he will come back. I was just not ready for cesession of all relations. And since everyone knows that I am an idiot. I decided to be an idiot. I called him before the Prayer break. And I told him that I think we should remain friends. He, of course, said yes. Stupid. Jalal is stupid. Jalal is stupid.

So, basically, how much should one fall? How much? This is below fall. This is sinking into oblivion. Uggghhhhhh. Now that there is not even a shard of self respect left I need to find an absolutely cute guy, and we need to go out and also invite Dr Sahab and be incredibly loving in front of him. And if possible he can lift the car with his bare arms and I can change the flat tire. And then we can both have sweaty, oily, greasy, grimy man sex in front of the car with Dr Sahab looking on and feeling sorry for his loss.

Jalal you are such an absolute fucking idiot.

Day 10,090 - Wednesday - 10 Vaisakh 1930 - 23 Rabi us Sani 1429 - 30 April 2008

From 00:06 on the 6th of April 2008 to 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. 25 days. 598 hours. 35,895 minutes. An exceptionally beautiful period of my life. Everything, completeness and absolution. Generally, words are too ill designed to define beauty. So is the case here. I can only describe comparable feelings and snippets of thought that will be so personalized that the words that describe a cosmos’ worth of meaning to me would mean nothing to anyone else. So, I will not. Because I can not. If there is anything called love / lust at first sight; this was it. And more. Since the first instant, my beliefs that had taken ages to develop in a different environment, came crashing down. I matured at the rate of months per hour. I was transformed completely. Maybe forever.

I get a message at 22:20 on the 30th of April 2008. “yar dont you think we lack in chemistry.i do.it is like we are siblings.have not felt any sparks.it is good that we did not label it.we are better off as friends.what do you think”. Which, as per the norms of the rules of human behaviour and conduct, resulted in an immediate phone call. 11 minutes and 58 seconds later; it was over. It was already too good to be true. I can not have it. Done. Final. Bye. I tried, and also wanted, to spend every moment of my life with him. But. The inevitable but. What beautiful words, if and but. So little, yet so much.

May God save us from unrequited love.

I can still remember the time when he either nodded off or was just lying there. I was wearing my Che Guevara T shirt. He was on my left, cradled in my arms. His nose buried in Che’s beret. I remember thinking at that point in time that I felt so complete that I could do this forever. Later on, when I went home, I sniffed Che’s beret, so I could have the same feeling that he did. And see if he had left any imprint on it. I hate that shirt now.

Humans are such complex creatures. We need to lie. Sugarcoat. Lie. Tell untruths. Use words. Massage egos. Safeguard feelings. And hence, eventually prove to ourselves that since we are not inordinately harsh, in our opinion, on others, we are good people. We rationalize our every action. Since all humans do this, all humans know that the other person is doing this. So, as per the rules of any break up call, I was told that “you are a very nice guy”. Firstly, why the fuck would anyone want to be a nice guy, when they can be marauding barbarians brimming with fulfilled sexual urges. Secondly, I dont understand what the fuck being a nice guy means. Thirdly, why the fuck cant people be original. I mean, sure, you are going to wrench someone’s heart out. But, at least try to be original. It makes for good stories and blog entries after that person has finally gotten over you.

All said and done. He told me multiple times that he didnt feel “the thing” since the beginning. And I was told that this was precisely the reason why I was told very early on not to label this as anything. I did not. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. I should know that if I dont label it in congress I should not label it personally. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. He took this long because he wanted to ensure that this lack of feeling “the thing” was not due to the issues that he is facing in life. Fair enough. Basically, in plain English, he didnt find me attractive. Period. I mean, sure, I know I am not a good looking guy. And I realize this was not said, but sugarcoated. But, this was definitely not good for my over inflated ego.

After reading all this, I need not have to say this, but, there was no sex in the relationship. There were two occasions when we were alone, and on both occasions I got a bit amorous. Sorry. Horny young man in the presence of possible sex. I need to be forgiven. Please. I realized a couple of days after the second attempt that he did not feel at all attracted to me. He stopped me on both occasions with yet more sugarcoated sentences. Now, I feel so disgusting, so vile, so perverted. I feel like I was conducting rape. I actually shudder when I think of the ramifications of the thing. I just hope I wash myself of this feeling. I dont think most people can understand this, but it was disgusting. I feel so seriously unclean after this experience that it is not easy to explain or write this down.

Guys, and also girls, it doesnt really fucking matter if you have a good personality. It doesnt. It is about the looks. Trust me. For one, I am a guy, and I know this. The ones with the good personality are made friends, and the good looking ones are slept with. Choose your pick. Would you like conversation or sex? I mean, at least for me, I am clear on this. In case you still didnt understand. It is the latter. I have learnt that one should never subordinate sex to any other feelings. I will not do that again.

I was also told that since I am a nice guy he would like to be friends. Sure, it is very easy for you, wrench my heart out and then smile back and want to be friends. I dont know what to do. I dont want to seem weak and vulnerable and sulk. So, I will have to maintain a pretence of friendship. But it is not supposed to be long, he is going to go abroad in a month and a half. I think I can pass that amount of time like this. Hopefully. Fuck. It just feels so fucking painful to just be told sorry good bye all of a fucking sudden. I dont think I have been able to process this. I just started writing as soon as the call was over. Maybe I dont want to deal with this.

There is another thing. I am an idiot. He had been hinting at this for at least a week now. Seems so in retrospect. I just didnt get the hint. I attributed it to something or the other. But the fact of the matter is that I am very very very bad with hints. I keep persisting, until someone tells me in plain English that they are not interesting and that I will not be a part of their life any more. At least I can say that I learnt one thing in this relationship. I should not be making any more effort than the other person and if their interest in me wanes a bit, I should label the relationship as dead. Making an effort on my part and giving the other person the benefit of the doubt is incredibly stupid. It makes things difficult both of myself and the other guy. Lesson learnt. Life will move on.

So, basically, something that I was ready to do anything for. Something that I had invested in emotionally. Something that no words can explain. A happy edge to my life. A beautiful taste to my food. A strong fragrance in my breath. It is over. And all I can do is blog about it.

Yet again, a farewell. One that is so painful to go through, but, a farewell none the less.

PS - Written on Thursday morning. He called me up to meet up with him and a friend last night. Since I had already told him I will do this earlier on in the day, I said yes. I could not say no. It would have been awkward. So, we met up. Incredibly painful. Incredibly. I can not explain. And I seem to have kept up appearances quite reasonably. The moment I got out of the car and said good bye. I knew it. I can not see him again. It is just so fucking painful. I can not see him again.

It is over.

Day 10,085 - Friday - 05 Vaisakh 1930 - 18 Rabi us Sani 1429 - 25 April 2008

As defined by my friend AI from university, “relationships are a bitch”. Which when translated into the language of RA, the guy who sits in front of me at work, becomes, “relayshaships are a biyatch”. I love the word biyatch, it is a lot more direct and final than bitch. Moving on. Things with Doctor Sahab are going quite well. I am not going to be blogging about my relationship. I just will not. So help me God! But I will be blogging about themes of relationships that I have experienced in the past and that others have experienced. Interesting topic.

Even though I am quite psychotic, but, I do not make an effort in my relationship because I have to. I do it because of the way I feel about this thing. I do it because I want to. I have not reached the phase of commitment. Keeping in view my severe desire to keep absolutely independent whilst everyone around me adores me and makes me the centre of attention at all times, I will not be putting too much effort into this thing; because I have to. I am making the effort because I want to.

It is not because I am evil, afraid of commitment, self centered, oh and yes, “a bitch” - as per my evil friend SR from work. It is because I have just not reached that stage of this relationship.

And, as for the whole concept of demand and supple of effort, as opposed to the concept of demand and supply of products by Adam Smith, I have realized, that I do want him to make an effort. Something that scared the fucking hell out of me in each past relationship. I was told, in so many words, that I needed to make some effort. I mean, me, the paragon of nicety and selflessness, not making an effort! Let the Gods shudder!

Of course, despite being evil and sarcastic, I have not said this to Dr Sahab. I have learnt just one thing from all of my past failures at relationship management, do not tell people that they are not making an effort.

Of course, after Dr Sahab I now know how the other person feels. When the other person says, “you said you will call but you didnt. Why?” or when the other person says “you are free right now, but you are going out with friends?” and other such things. That is just not right, and it is dangerous. Because the moment you say something like that, the other person freaks the fuck out and wants to run out the nearest exit, no matter how much they like you.

Imagine a Deer, a beautiful young virile male deer with his antlers held high. Free as a buck. And then imagine an evil eyed doe, beautiful and young but with a huge noose of thorns and flesh cutting metallic protrusions. And then imagine the deer realizing that for the rest of his life, he will be held liable for every time he doesnt make a call or goes out with his friends or just needs to not pay excessive attention to the doe. Ok. So the guys get it. But the women - dont judge me, I am just the messenger of the turth of the species. Not the one who designed them.

But, the fact of the matter is that. I want effort. Because every time an effort is made, it makes me feel satisfied in the way this relationship is going. It makes clear the level of commitment of the other person. It provides me with a certainty, a finality, a sudden feeling of calm.

But, and please read this part, since I am not married to him, yet, I am not going to ask him to make an effort, because there is no other surefire way of making him run away than that. And frankly, I dont want him to make any effort that is out of the way for him. I want him to let this thing grow as naturally as it will grow. If it works out, it works out. If it doesnt, it doesnt. No artificial commitments.

Oh, and for once, I am not playing any games whatsoever.

PS - A relationship between two gay guys, who behave like straight guys as far as intimacy is concerned, is very very very very very difficult. Since there is absolutely no sharing of information on the topics of emotions and feelings, it is very dificult to gauge where everyone is. But, ladies! We do indeed get to share that, just by knowing the other person and not demanding to be told every five fucking seconds. Thank you.

Day 10,084 - Thursday - 04 Vaisakh 1930 - 17 Rabi us Sani 1429 - 24 April 2008

And, on a more insane, psychotic, wacky note.

I think I am becoming old, irritating, boring, stupid and senile with age. Is that true?