Archive for alcohol

DBX

Day 0 – Home, Karachi Airport, Dubai Airport, Oh so many beautiful Dubai men, Immigration, Drive home

Day 1 – Spinneys for a phone card, Bur Juman to kill time and check out the city, Burger King for a triple whopper that I could not control at all, CK, Gap, Giordano, Ibn Batuta for a very tired cart ride, Barasti for drinks and chilling, Bar Zar, Madinah Jumeira

Day 2 – Wild Wadi for water rides, Beautiful scantily clad men and women in a water park a la Dubai, Chilis because SD could have eaten two horses, Peanut Butter Jam for live music and that woman with the shrill voice, Casbar for dancing and watching extremely sexy guys

Day 3 – Ikea to get stuff but got late, Fudruckers for an amazing burger with excessive cheese, Festival City for a trip to see the mall, Waterfront Mall, Atlantis to check out the new hotel, Lost chambers to check out a million types of marine life, 360degrees for drinks and chillin, Burger King for the last time

Day 4 – Jumeira beach for checking out the guys and HS for checking out the chick (if HS’s wife is reading this, he was not checking out the chicks but missing you and he didnt even open his eyes), Dubai Marina beach to enjoy the beach, Bur Juman for frantic last minute shopping, Dubai Airport duty free incredibly cute guy flirting voraciously, Karachi Airport, Home.

Sedation

Day 10,063 – Thursday – 14 Chaitra 1930 – 25 Rabi ul Awwal 1429 – 03 April 2008

I like drinking. I like being drunk. And I absolutely adore drunk Jalal.

And to think I was indeed drunk Jalal yesternight is indeed a very beautiful memory.

And, to add to all this, I started exercise today. I took the first step towards moving out. I have gone completely sexually insane due to the heat and humidity.

And I am still as confused and psychotic as I ever was.

Life is finally settled down. Good.

Journey

Monday – 13 Zilhaj 1428 – 04 Pausa 1929 – 24 December 2007  

So, despite all the suggestions, ideas, opinions, advice and orders given to us, me and a group of friends decided to go on a Pakistan wide road trip. Starting on the day of Eid. Crazy you might say, but I would call it an adventure. That is life, what the boring goat killing meat eating morons call stupidity and crass idiocy I would call adventure and action. After all, I have learnt over a lifetime that I do not usually do what society expects me to do and I do things on many occasions just to be different and opposing to the trends to society. I used to think of it as individualism and non comformity, but now, I think it is just psychotic stubbornness.

So, the trip being so long and so intense can not be put into words, I would need to write at least 56,783 pages. But, lets not do that. I will just give a summary of how the trip unfolded.

Karachi – 07:38 – 21,069 Kms
Nooriabad – 08:59 – 21,181 Kms

Flying the car at 160kmph.

Jamshoro – 09:25 – 21,238 Kms
Sehwan – 10:52 – 21,372 Kms
Dadu – 11:44 – 21,416 Kms

Bad fucking roads; suicidal dogs who would just not get out of the way of the car; lots of roadkill; crazy people standing in the middle of the road and not moving unless I keep my hand on the horn; and last but not least the company of good friends to get me through this.

Larkana – 14:11 – 21,545 Kms
Sukkur – 16:21 – 21,651 Kms

Having food at Sukkur.

Sindh Punjab Border – 18:52 – 21,794 Kms
Sadiqabad – 19:15 – 21,821 Kms
Rahim Yar Khan – 19:31 – 21,843 Kms
Bahawalpur – 21:32 – 22,036 Kms

Calling twenty odd people who we knew and asking them if it is a good idea to go straight to Lahore and not stop over in Multan as we had planned earlier. Opposition from each and every one of those people. Despite that we decide to go straight to Lahore and not stop in the middle. If only there was one sane person in the car they would have told us not to go straight to Lahore and stop over in Multan. Global public opinion versus the people in the car. We win and we move for Lahore.

Multan – 22:35 – 22,118 Kms

Unbelievable amounts of Coffee in Multan. Hogging it.

Mian Chunnu – Haroon Service Station – 00:32 – 22,222 Kms

Used the restroom, again. Terrible.

Harappa – 01:10 – 22,276 Kms
Sahiwal – 01:24 – 22,296 Kms
Okara – 01:53 – 22,337 Kms

The journey just does not stop. Long, long, long, long, two drivers, eighteen hours. Amazingly long journey.

Getting to drive in Lahore for the first time in my life.

Lahore – 03:30 – 22,478 Kms

Sleep over in Lahore, getting up and going to Daewoo Bus service for a ticket to Islamabad. Got a ticket for 8. Traded in the ticket for an open position in an earlier bus.

Daewoo Lahore – 19:37
Ravi – 20:06
Bhera – 21:20
Motorway Ends Islamabad – 11:55

Get to meet four of my friends from college. They are in from different parts of the world, and the possibility of these people gathering in one place in one time is nearly non existent. So, enjoying the company.

Marriott – 12:30
Serena – 02:30
Marriott – 02:45
Home – 03:15

Started reading the Kite Runner.

Sleep – 04:00
Awake – 10:15
Full Quorum – 11:15
Heading out – 13:15
Buying Beers – 14:15
Having Beers – 15:15
Having Food – 16:15
Leaving for Airport – 17:00
Islamabad Airport – 19:00
Karachi Airport – 21:00
Home – 21:45

Travelled across the country and got back home. One very long road trip. One meeting with a group of all of my friends from college. Amazing journey for life.

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.

Singapore

Tuesday – 24 Jamadi us Sani 1428 – 19 Asadha 1929 – 10 July 2007

Well, as if a self obsessed ego maniacal horny bastard like myself would not be talking about my trip to Singapore. Bah, Humbug!

So, the highlights include the fact that I was quite turned on by one of my colleagues over there and sparks flew, mine due to lust, and his due to homophobia. I am so stupid. Of course the problem was resolved amicably by my acting like a complete asshole and him thinking that maybe I am not gay but just extremely ill mannered. Honour is saved and respect is lost. Oh well!

Since alcoholic beverages are illegal in Pakistan I got an opportunity where I had only alcoholic beverages for a period of twenty nine days. I did not have plain water, I did not have Coke, I did not have any non alcoholic drinks for twenty nine days. This excludes the occasional drink of water when you wake up in the middle of the night and are about to die, pending liquids being poured down your throat.

And then there was this time when I ate twenty eight chicken wings at Hooters. I am disgusting! I mean, come on, it is only food, it is not love. There is no need to crave it so much and then gorge on it like no tomorrow. I mean, dude get over it! Stop acting like the dustbin that gets all the leftovers. I think I will feel very ashamed now!

Oh, and to top all this off, things at work are going very well. I am going to be transferred into another very interesting department, good team, good work and completely edible bois. Wish me luck and self control and the ability to spend my time in my current job without destroying every shred of respect that I have. Amen!

Oh, and in case you did not know, Mango Milk Shakes are just so seriously fucking delicious that I could have one every hour of the day. Pakistanis and Mangoes, strange psychological dependencies.

Whimsical

Saturday – 03 Jamadi us Sani 1424 – 11 Sravana 1925 – 02 August 2003 

well remember the time when you go home. everyone is really nice. they treat you well. they cook you magnificent food. and stuff. well i am sure you dont. because i dont either. such a perfect time doesnt exist. there are always things that screw it up.

like the time when someone spills milk on the expensive silks. or when someone says wow you have lost weight just to be nice. and the other person says. you think i was fat before ? or when everyone stops to take a breath and there is a long awkward silence. or when the food gets burnt and one woman has to cry about how she cannot do anything right. or when oh yes this is what happened to me. you fall down in the mud made by the rain and soil yourself. and the 5674 relatives in your house for the party make fun of you for 4 hours.

also. when someone tells you to trust them when they sell you something. DONT ! never trust someone who is selling. always check up. even if it is just a jeans and you wanted to know if they look good on you. or if it is a new form of hair growing creme that is purple and has fumes coming out of it.

hmmmmmm. you know what. i am beginning to think i am wierd. i write about the strangest of things. why am i like this? (note to self: jalal please dont go there) ok ok. so why would someone think this way (note to self: jalal please dont go there). ok ok. whatever.

so you see it takes three lines to get paranoid and start talking to oneself. and all this infront of other people. oh my god. i so need to get a life.

also i dont understand one thing. i am sorry i probably would be removed from the gay brother(sic)hood but what is a drag queen.

another thing. when americans talk abotu beer or alcohol. there are times when you need a break. or need a relief. or need to be aloof. you talk about getting alcohol. what does it do. i have never had alcohol. what does it do. i mean stuff like. my mom is coming. i hate my mom. so i am going to get drunk. or i dont want to sit with them all night but i have to so i will get alcohol. i mean what is the deal with alcohol.