Archive for engagement
Day 10,178 – Sunday – 05 Sravana 1930 – 23 Rajab 1429 – 27 July 2008
And as suddenly as it started. The writers block is over. I have so much to write about. I am suddenly very happy, very excited and very high on how things are with me. Although the fact that I am not immeasurably rich and have the sexual capacity of a rabbit and the choice of sexual partners similar to Justin Timberlake is a constant nag, but I move on in life and enjoy what I do indeed have, as should everyone else, except the fact that this is such an incredibly long sentence that anyone who is still reading has not idea what I am talking about, hence the requirement for psychosis inhibiting pills to be crushed and added to my meals on a regular basis.
So, my ex fiance wants to get back together with me. I don’t know why. She broke off the engagement because she felt that I, read the word “I” again in a very self obsessed narcissistic manner and you will understand the actual pronunciation, had too many issues. Of course I did. No one is perfect. Then why are you coming back to me to beg, and I mean beg, me to take her back. Why? I am so confused? If I didn’t hate her enough for having rejected me, as would anyone else on the face of this planet who does get rejected, I would start doing it simply for this idiotic thing that she has started. I mean come on. You rejected me, left me, dumped me and broke of our engagement. And now you want me to take you back. I am sorry, but revenge is a dish best served cold. You left me once, and I am doing it now. I love being a heartless, calculating, evil man. It is so satisfying.
And then, as if my life was not stressful enough with all the excessive hunting for sex, I get a phone call at 1 am in the morning, it is NA’s mother in law saying that NA has not come home, is he with me. Of course, being a man, I immediately tell her that he was with me, but he must be at the game, at this time his wife takes the phone and starts talking to me. I am very very scared for NA. But, I cant show it, because, one – his wife will get worried, and two – he is my friend so I have to lie for him. So I tell her that he may not be able to use his phone because it was not working during the day. I am so delectably evil and yet available for sex at short notice. I change in 57 seconds, yes I saw this on the watch, and got to my car to find NA the idiot. But, just as I was starting my car, three minutes after the call, NAs wife calls me and tells me that he just called. I am so amazingly nice and yet available for sex at short notice.
Oh, and yes, me and my friend HS went to the wall on the beach. Amazing. It was incredibly cloudy and windy and the waves were absolutely crazy. Loved it. And since HS’s wife reads this, no, we did not smoke a lot. We are both trying to cut back, and we are both reasonable adults who do not lead self destructive lives. There, I said it!
Why the fuck cant I dance well. I hate not being able to dance well. Fuck!
Sunday – 24 Ramazan 1428 – 15 Asvina 1929 – 07 October 2007
Humans are such intersting creatures. So simple at first sight, short-thin-petite-brownhair-beautifuleyes-crazysideburns, tall-fat-fair-jolly-sexychin, muscular-macho-brighteyes-beautifulshoes-interestingfashionsense. But so complicated when you jump into them. Courageous, cautious, self-conscious, complacent, arrogant, confident, depressive. And so and so forth. So many adjectives to define something that is basically not definable, playing with words to conceive an iota of knowledge about something so profound and so complex.
The past two weeks have not been a good time for me. But, it is the company of others that has kept me strong. For whatever reason. There have been so many issues that I have had to deal with lately. My engagement and the prospects of a life not at all my own but dictated by others. Maybe even not dictated, but dictated by my knowledge of the expectations of others. Expectations that I know are held so dear that I would not want to hurt them. But sacrificing my own expectations for others. No idea how that will turn out, there are too many apprehensions.
One of the reasons why I started this weblog was to reach out, a kind of catharsis that I get when I put pen to paper to write what I feel and then to read it and feel better about things. I was a regular blogger during my fourth year of college. But it was scary for the strength of emotions used. So I deleted that. Even after college I have been blogging regularly. Most of my older posts have been unbelievably strong and do scare me. But I have resolved not to delete my past, I can not escape it. And I do not want to forget it any more. I want to know who I was and who I will be.
I have a lot of friends who I can share my life with. In the physical world. And over time I have gained a lot of friends in this world of the internet as well. Very different kind of a relationship, but it does exist.
I have been having a severe feeling of loss over the past couple of days. Of not having done the things in life that I should have. Basically relates to relationships and sexual relationships with men. Something I knew would hurt my family if they find out. So, I have led a life of a reasonable amount of abstinence. But now it is haunting me. I dont want to make the same mistake. Of doing something for someone and feeling sorry about it. So I read my weblog for the past few years. I admit that there is more crap in there than there are stars or grains of sand. Gave me a bit of a consolation that not having the life that I wanted did not necessarily destroy my life back then.
One year of blissful submission to my family and my society is a reasonable period to cover up for the one month a year period of doubt, angst and depression that I have. Or is it? One thing about life is that you can never really answer these things. If only there were answers and if only I could know them. But that is not the case.
The silver lining on a rather large cloud is that depression wearies one off and ends itself as soon as the novelty of the emotion wears off. Hopefully.
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.
Saturday – 02 Ramazan 1428 – 24 Bhadra 1929 – 15 September 2007
First of all, apologies to all of you for not blogging regular. Yes, all zero of you. Dont look at me as if you dont know who I am talking about; you know who you are. Moving on, I have been quite busy lately. Just moved to a new department at work, so trying very hard to learn, come up the curve, not make stupid moronic blunders like I do with the choices in my life. That has been taking up a lot of my time recently. Other than work, my room has been flooded with 3 inches of water for the past one month. Thanks to crazy cyclones and thunderstorms in Karachi and my room being in a basement with bad water proofing.
That done, I am getting a chance to blog after a long time today. Seems like I have been restricted to blogging over the weekends only.
All right! All right! I will stop my blabbering rambles and get down to the actual topic at hand.
Coming to the really juicy bits of news about my life. I am engaged.
So, it would turn out that my parents did drag me to Islamabad two weeks ago to see their friends’ daughter. We met over dinner. The girl’s family is very conservative and we were not allowed to talk. But we did sit very close to each other and could hear each other. Imagine making the decision of whether to marry someone or not based on hearing them talking to someone else for a two hour period over a formal family dinner. My life just has to be absolutely strange and unpredictable doesnt it?
I always knew that I have to get married one day or the other. Seemed like an inevitable. Too many expectations and desires from many other quarters that share my life. And my mother would nag the fuck out of my life. So, if it was to be, I might as well select someone I like. There was noone else. So, plan B, arranged marriage. Hence, Islamabad two weeks ago. But, since I am gay and what the fuck else not, I knew that for me any girl would be the same as any other girl. Since this makes my choice useless, I let my parents decide. I knew how they felt about her, so I told them I liked her a lot as well.
The next day we went to my in-laws place for a formal dinner. The gifts that we were to give her were all selected by me. I do have a good eye for things. As was proven later on. Moving on; after dinner was the usual conversation about asking for hands in marriages and combination of families and how happy people are to have us in their family and how this is a momentous occasion and friendship has been matured to relationship. And so on and so forth. Usual traditional one hour conversation. And then, we came back to Karachi the next morning.
I found out two days later that that was my engagement. Although I distinctly remember an engagement being an event with at least a large number of people and food and a clear declaration that there is an engagement going on. But, it seems that the parents didnt feel that way. So, I found out I am engaged two days after the engagement. And marriage is in March.
And, as for the girl, we have been talking for an hour or two on a daily basis since the ‘engagement’ and two weeks is a long enough time. She still doesnt know I that I am gay. Otherwise I have shared everything with her, and she with me. It is so so so so so fucking difficult to have always imagined this very same thing with a guy and have to end up doing this with a girl. Strange. But then again, cest la vie. Seems that homosexuality and marriage seem to be quite compatible in Pakistan. Sex and relationships are different things. Rather sex and sexual attration to a certain gender are different things. Strang, strange.
Oh, from what I have found out about her, I think that if she can only accept the gay thing, and I will tell her only if I know that she will accept it, I think things will work out quite well.
Fuck! I am engaged to be married in March. Fuck! I am so serously going to fucking freak out. I was not thinking about this when I started writing. But, basically, fuck. Guess ill go have some cold water and watch porn to calm down. Take care.