Archive for hangout

Suffocation in the Closet

Monday – 05 Jamadi us Sani 1424 – 13 Sravana 1925 – 04 August 2003 

i am very upset today. this will be a long post. so brace yourselves.

well here in pakistan the patters of hanging out are very different. for example the guys in our street hang out in our street. we sit somewhere or stand somewhere. and keep talking. keep making jokes. or keep making fun of someone. that is what we do. at times for hours on end. that is how we hang out.

when we make fun of each other we talk about all things. well day before yesterday one of the guys called me gay. and i asked him to come inside to my room and ill prove myself. everyone laughed. it was like a jalal 1 – opponent 0 moment. i won. hundreds of other such things happened. i forgot about this happening that very day.

what is bothering me is my mom overheard me saying that. well i am not masculine. i am feminine. so my family suspects that there is something wrong. also i think someone once thought she saw me watching pics of guys. so they suspect. well after what my mom heard yesterday she was completely shocked.

she talked to my cousin about this. yesterday. she told him what she heard. she told him about the other incident. she told him about my not having a girl friend. she told him she was very concerned. she told him she cannot sleep. she is having migraine again. she is worried as hell. she is being strange with me. its like she doesnt know how to talk to me any more.

my cousin told her there is nothing like that. he told her all the guys from the gali(street) say such stuff to each other. nothing to worry about. then she calmed down.

but that is not the problem. the problem is what do i do. i cannot tell her about my being gay. it will just kill her. i mean come on this isnt europe where people will deal with it. in pakistan i am a thing. i am not a person i am a thing. i am the man who caused allah to send down an azaab(destruction) on the people of lut. i am that person. i am a sinner. i am a man who will go to hell. i am that thing.

well my mom will be easy to explain things to. she is a woman and a mother. what about my dad. good god in heaven. he is a policeman. i think i dont need to tell anything else. he is like this masculine guy. who i am sure has been making fun of feminine and gay guys for the last 30 years. at least. on a daily basis. for him to find out that i am gay. WHOA ! it will kill him. or maybe it will kill me.

god damn it. i just wish i didnt have to deal with this. but i do. i am just thinking of getting permanent in my job and settling down. maybe then i can talk to them. i dont know. anytime i tell them it will hurt them a lot. oh god. damn it. this sux. i cannot do this. also my sisters. they are so young. for them being gay so much more worse. they wont even understand what my parents will.

i am completely ok being gay with myself. but when my family comes in i wish i were straight. or i wish i had a brother. i am an only son. a concept lost on westerners. but asians will understand exactly what it means to be an only son. and being gay on top of that.

for the last 22 years ammi and abbu have been thinking about me. about how they will find the perfect girl for me. about how i will have a wonderful family life. about how i will have all the best in life. about how they will be proud of their only son. well that cant fucking happen now can it. i am fucking gay. no marriage. no family. no normal life. also i will go to hell. a proof of their failure as parents. god i hate this.

now i dont know what to do. i am angry and sad and i dont know what i am feeling. maybe guilt. i dont know.

Weekend

Sunday – 26 Jamadi ul Awwal 1424 – 05 Sravana 1925 – 27 July  2003

last night was the first saturday night of my working life. although i love my work i like the idea of going out over the weekend. this weekend there was no such plan. well i thought id go over to my cousins to spend the weekend. he lives alone so we could behave like guys and hang out and stuff.

i get there and he tells me we are going to a concert. now. i hate concerts. i hate them. i dont know why but i get extremely depressed in concerts. well he insisted so i decided to go. we went with our friends of the neighbourhood (in pakistan is the completely straight for a group of friends to go out together even for a concert). all the way i prayed that it wasnt a concert and that it was a ghazal evening(pakistans equivalent of the opera). no. i am not a boring person. i just like ghazal evenings.

on the ticket we had a concert at 2200 hours. but when we got there at 0000 hours we saw that it was a ghazal evening. WOW!. all the other guys who forced me to come had to be bored as hell for an hour and a half. and i enjoyed myself so much. my cousin told me he will never force me to go anywhere as i will jinx that too. awwwwww. that is so cute.

also i had a hit today from someone coming from this address “http://search.yahoo.com/bin/search?p=what%20rains%20mean%20to%20pakistan&ei=UTF-8” which is a yahoo search for what rain means to pakistan. well if i am that popular that my blog is dealing with social issue. wow. thats all i can say.