Archive for glbt

Talk the Talk

Day 10,290 – Wednesday – 26 Agrahayana 1930 – 18 Zilhaj 1429 – 17 December 2008

So, the other day, I met up with a gay friend of mine. Nice guy. Very very good looking. Single. And looking. So, if you are interested, drop me a line. He has all of my good qualities, and to top that off he is fair, beautiful, well built and charming. So, a very good catch. Applications are welcome Monday through Friday from 1900 hours to 0900 hours and even during the day timings on the weekend.

So, two young gay guys, both single and looking, in the same car. The discussion on homosexuality was inevitable. We discussed all the different sorts of guys one meets. How society has shaped them. And how they behave.

There is the i-am-pure-top guy who is an absolute dick, extremely desirable, but completely deflated after an initial burst of producing interest in oneself. And yes, if you are not going to give a blow job, and touching cum is disgusting to you, dude, you are str8, so stop fucking guys simply because you could not get a girl (this is not meant to offend guys who are actually gay and have feelings similar to what I have written above). You can blow me or get the fuck out of my bed.

There is the i-am-oh-so-effeminate guy who is an absolute woman, says he is masculine, then plays with his extremely well maintained eye brows and bats his eye lashes at the waiter shamelessly. Ok, so when we were talking on the phone, why the fuck did you have a fake voice? And why the hell did you tell me that everyone tells you that you are so str8 acting. Dont you think I will see through the ten pounds of hair product, obscenely manicured eye brows, incredibly slated gait and demeanour, and the eye lash batting. Oh please! Dont lie to me, and if you did, you had better sleep with the waiter.

There is the i-am-so-fashionably-cool guy who is in showbiz, says he cares about people and is down to earth, but he has the ego the size of my dick when it is erect (read huge) and the huge flowers on his shirts make him look incredibly gay, and yes, everyone knows that you are gay because your clothes scream it out, and to top it off, if you make fun of my French Pronunciations, you are an elitist dick, even when you are mis pronouncing every Urdu word by default because you want to make sure that you dont seem like you know the language spoken in your city by 99.5% of the people.

There is the i-am-so-emotionally-needy guy who would want to talk on the phone all the time and thinks it is romantic and not creepy, but he doesnt realize that there are people who have jobs and lives and will greet you at 7 pm by “did you remember me now after the whole day?”. My reply until now was, I am so sorry, I thought that since we talked on the phone for two hours last night, one hour of which I was begging you to let me go, I can not call you till seven today. My reply, from now onwards is going to be, shut the fuck up and suck my sugar frosted dick, biyatch.

Oh and yes, sorry, but the quality of your skin is not the only good thing about you. Brainless idiot.

We also decided that in spite of these, and oh so many other negative stereotypes there are many good guys out there, we have both been with some.

And then we started discussing which hotel in Karachi is the best. For having sexual trysts in. We did not reach an agreement. I liked Beach Luxury and he liked Hotel Mehran. Oh well! Maybe ill try it next time.

Decloset

Day 10,069 – Wednesday – 20 Chaitra 1930 – 01 Rabi us Sani 1429 – 09 April 2008

So, I came out to two friends today. Both guys, both from when I joined work. Both have been working with me for three years now. I am getting better at this. There was the initial shock at what I was actually saying. Then there was the incessant dont-joke-with-us thing. After that came the if-this-is-a-joke threat. Finally they settled down.

Being guys, I had to hear a lot of jokes! And I am sure I will.

But now, everyone around me, who I care about, knows. So, basically, I am good to go.

Explanations

Day 10,035 – Thursday – 27 Safar 1429 – 16 Phalgun 1929 – 06 March 2008

I am gay. I have told me father, mother and sisters about it. They find it disgusting, wrong and morally corrupt. They are not ready to accept that I am gay, after some time they have accepted that I have been corrupted by someone, they are not ready to accept it and I can not do anything about it. I am ok with being gay, and I do not put any restrictions on the lives of the rest of my family, live and let live. But the same principle is not applied to me.

I want to be gay. I want to live a life of my choosing. That is not possible if I live with my parents like all other normal Pakistani guys. Again, I do not put any restrictions on anyone else, but my life is made hell.

I want to live separately. I told my parents about this and I also told them that I am very different from them and the things that I want are very different from everyone else. One must make allowances for people who are different. And I shoul. d be allowed to live separately, that in my eyes was the only way for me to lead a life of my choosing. Family had issues, could not be done.

I am selfish. I was told that I am extremely selfish for wanting to do this even when I know it will hurt my family. I dont want to do it because it will hurt them. I am not going to do it. But, living a life that I dont want to live, I am never going to be happy.

I am obsessed with one thing. Why do you want to give up everyone because of one thing (read, sex with men). The answer is that, I dont want to. Just that you guys will not allow me to. So, I can as a human want two things. But obviously I am not going to get either one of the two.

I hate my family. I am heartless and do not love anyone and that is why I want to live alone. Also, I am selfish and do not care for others and I am not ready to sacrifice for the family as I should. Why doesnt the family just sacrifice two things for me, let me live separately and let me lead a life of my choosing. Where the fuck is that sacrifice?

If I feel that my past three years have been wated because I was not allowed to live alone it doesnt mean that there is anything wrong with anything. Acutally, there is, this means that I have failed as a person. Everyone 3-4 years I will feel sorry for not having done things differently in the past. This one experience proved that this is how I will be. Noone wants to live in a state of consistent defeat, forced conditions and mulling over loss.

I should not have been allowed to live separately because I would have gotten into bad habits and also because I was completely unable to take care of myself. First, not your decision, it was my decision. Second, everyone learns, so would I have. Thank you for wasting my time and my life. I dont hate you. But, for not letting me live, I am sure you hated me.

What the fuck to do with my depression. I dont know. I dont care. I dont give a fuck.

The scariest part is that, after I have been screaming out that I need to be allowed to live my life, and been rejected over and over again, my will to live has died out, and as of this moment, I have no interest in being alive, the only thing keeping me alive is my inability to articulate the above sentence properly enough to explain to myself why me life means something to either me or someone else.

I have realize that if over a period of time, someone is stifled, be they right or wrong, or whatever the fuck, they will slowly die from inside. And I think, that stage has hit me. I have died from inside. Nothing holds meaning for my any more. And I dont care about anything.

Even if you think that someone else is wrong, but if they decide for something in their life, please for God’s sake, for the sake of all that is good in this world, please let them live the way they choose, and please dont kill them. Stopping someone from choosing their life is akin to murder.

Crash

Sunday – 17 Ramazan 1428 – 08 Asvina 1929 – 30 September 2007

It is as if my whole life has come crashing down around me. The same question that I ask myself and dread for the past ten years is in front of me again. Can I please lead my own life without fatally hurting everyone around me. Can I please be gay and my family accept me for it and let me live like that. And my sisters’ marriages are not sabotaged and their married lives are not destroyed.  And my parents position of respect and honour in our society is not destroyed due to my leading a gay life.

It is not as if I dont know the answer. I know the answer. No. You can not be gay without destroying the lives of your parents and sisters. But, stupid humans, stupid, hopeful, crazy emotional humans. I just want there to be a different answer.

How futile.

Death

Friday – 15 Ramazan 1428 – 06 Asvina 1929 – 28 September 2007

Though it is not how we view things. But, we are the decisions that we make. Over a period of time, we become what we have done. There are times when desicions are made knowing the path and lead us towards our goal as we understand it. And then there are times when, oblivious to and maybe even apathetic to the direction we are moving in, we take decisions that alter our lives and us. The worst is when of our own free will and an absolute lack of coercion we make a decision that will lead us farther away from our goal and our life as we want it.

I have had to take such a decision recently. I opted for the third choice.

My engagement recently was a result of such a decision. For the past six years I have known that I could never lead the life of my choice. No one forced me. It was just how things are. My father would have considered it a complete loss of face to have an only son who is gay. My mother would have felt that I have been led astray and will ruin my life. Two people I care a lot about would have had the rest of their lives devastated. And I could not have accepted it because it would haunt me that I am the reason for their pain. So, the only way for me to go was to die. Not physically. Just that Jalal is becoming a separate person from me.

My blog is a place where I am who I really am. But, in my life, I am a completely different person. I used to joke about having multiple personality disorder. But, in a way it is true. The stigma attached to homosexuality does lead to people leading multiple lives. Usually they are two different lives. For me there is an online life through this blog and a community of people I interact with, and then there is the physical life of work and home and people I know through that. At an earlier point in time Jalal and myself had a lot in common. The difference between the two lives was not so acute. But, with the engagement, and with the expectations, and with the prying eyes of my family. I feel as if Jalal and myself are becoming two different people.

This sounds like a confession at one end and like a letter on the other. I have no idea why I am blogging this. Maybe for the catharsis. Maybe to just get my thoughts together. I do not know. That is how things are. Human beings are such fragile things, the light of consciousness and the ability to analyse our own feelings and thoughts, such complexity in such a small space.

Over the past one month I have told my fiance that I smoke, that I do take alcohol on a rather irregular basis, once a month or so, and that I do take drugs occasionally, once a quarter or so. Coming from a conservative background and endorsing that point of view as well, she took some time to accept it. But she did not accept it. Yesterday she told me to tell her father about all this, since she felt that he should know about these habits of mine.

I cant, I just cant. It is very very difficult. There are complications that I cannot reveal here or they will lift the veil on who I am. I cant tell him. And she wont accept me if I dont. So, the question was, I can distance myself from alcohol and drugs forever. But I wont tell her father. I think she will accept it. I will do this to handle this situation that could get very very bad otherwise.

But, with so many compromises. She is a Muslim, in am an Agnostic, in our situation I have to act like a Muslim. She has a strong faith in her religion, I have a strong faith in mine, I can not show it. She can never accept her husband to drink alcohol, I do, and I have to leave it. She can never accept her husband to do drugs, I do, and I have to leave it. God I am crying. This is so fucking childish. Everything and every manner in which I deviate from the moderate Pakistani social setup I am doomed. I have a personality built on some things, and they are all doomed. My being like this is not acceptable in either society at large or in my immediate family. I do not want to comform for my sake, but for the sake of other people. I have to.

I think that with this, I am in a way trying to kill Jalal in my physical reality. I dont know if I will be successful. I can do it in the short term. But, what I fear is time. Countless days, melting into months, melting into years, melthing in decades. Will I be able to keep Jalal dead in the decades to come. If I can, then yes, I have compromised and conformed and changed myself. But, if I can not, then what? What of the assurance I am to give my fiance tomorrow? If I can not do it, then I should not commit. But I dont want to kill Jalal. I like him. And for fucks sake I am crying again. I hate this.

I would love for there to be a situation, where I am what I am. I am accepted for what I am. And I can live like what I am. I know, it is a land of fantasy. I know that neither society nor my family will accept me as that. I know it can not happen. I know I will have to be what they want me to be. But, I do not want that. Life seems very very unfair, but then again it is life, it is as it is. Neither fair, nor unfair. I am what I am, and I am not supposed to be. I know this is acceptable in many countries outside Pakistan. But the thought of my parents here with my lifestyle gnawing at the core of their existence. The complete extrangement that I will have to undergo from my family. I cant do that. I want two things at the same time which can just not be in the possession of the same person.

I feel as if I am living in a world where I am not the object of desire. By family, by society, by anyone. The object of desire is a figure in an imagination who is exactly upto the expectations that people have set for me. It is not I but my impression in their conscience that they love and adore. I feel so useless. What is life but a series of injuries, to our egos, to our bodies, to our souls. Cest la Vie.

Tomorrow I live again, a new day. But Jalal dies outside this electronic world of weblogs, online communities, emails and messaging programs.

انّا للہ و انّا الیہی رجیعون

I will be in mourning. It is a very big loss. Words are so weak. Thoughts so poignant. Emotions so strong.