Thursday, July 19, 2012

Profiling The Gay Bitch

This is my article in Monsoon 2012 Issue of Pink Pages. To Download the complete issue please CLICK HERE

Disclaimer: before you start bitching about this article. Let me tell you that this is a post about some gays, and definitely not all gays. I am in no way generalizing. And if you get offended by this article, may be, you are the gay bitch I’m talking about. This is an account of the different kind of bitches that I have found and about their fake prides and real prejudices.

I wonder sometimes what the Akhil Bharatiya Gay Samaj is all about? Before I opened the doors of the closets to smell fresh air, I remember I encountered many types of this vicious animal called the gay bitch – I hope animal rights activists don’t take offence to the word ‘bitch’. I am a bitch lover myself. With all due respect to animals, the creatures I’m talking about are pests without breasts. They have an innate ability to speak about anything and everything from Botox to buttocks. They are a walkie-talkie encyclopaedia of everything queer. But Aami Shotti Bolchi! My list is in no way comprehensive. And may be, I also would fall in one of these categories.

Bottom Pinch!

“I don’t do THAT with anybody and everybody OKAY! Fuckta (‘only’- in marathi) boyfriends”

Hold On! Never disrespect their posterior. Their back is not some kirana ka dukaan (mom and pop stores) that dick-headed wholesalers can stock their groceries over. These are the monogamous glam dolls of tinsel town. They are exclusive. They don’t suffer fools. They are the pristine majestic queens.

I encountered one recently and got too close for comfort. I was just going to build a temple in my mind for this devi who I thought was ganga ke jaise pavitra. (holy as river Ganges) only to realize that this river has been overflowing. Even the once-upon-a-queer watchman has visited this holey shrine (pardon the typo). In fact, I really wished to add his holeyness as one of the many tourist attractions in Bombay. I’m sure, anyone and everyone who is even remotely-occasionally- periodically-seasonally gay and has visited Bombay has at least once, has not only most definitely visited the Gateway of India, but also has sunk in this river. And he was right, they all were boyfriends. Relationships with tourists are butt short-lived. Ass the flight takes off, another lands- life goes on.

Bedroom = Drawing Room!
“ and you know… he was so short”

These are the kind of people who are bubbly and hip. They have a clean heart. They tell it all and make their Dil halka (lighten the heart). And when they have told-it-all they can take the next download from the next gay guy around. They may not be able to solve your problems. But will be there to laugh it out and discuss. It is called ‘lightening the mood’ (not yours, but theirs)

My experience with such people has been great. With people like these porn-audio-books will have no market. I have also been educated about my near and dear ones by them. They know who does what and how well. They disclose their bedroom secrets with panache and √©lan. They have an eye for detail even when I don’t have the ears for detail. They warn you so that you even by mistake don’t indulge in an UFO moment in your sacred space in the Queer World. (UFO = Unintentionally Fornicating Objects). You need to ensure that you don’t wake up on the wrong side of the bed with them. (If you know what I mean) for even the beauty spot in your butt will be magnified for public viewing pleasure. Well, this is what I call “pimples in the butt of humanity.”

The Virile Viral Giants

“… this guy is such a show off”

This is the kindest prototype of the desi gay species. They are kind in the real world. Real kind people. They appear to be those few doting friends you can always count on. They are the ones who appear to complete your world with all the niceness and goodness. They are sweeter than saccharine, cuter than a pug puppy, fresh and positive as a sun flower. They are all that you would want in a perfect person.

Wonder why then they are totally different online. I mean, they are so mean online that even the good old mother-in-laws of Hindi television will be given a run for their money. They are the uncrowned vamps of the facebook world. They tweet a never-ending attack until you scream in agony. They are like loose motion. Their attack is pungent. They are the people who would be blue colored in real life and will have screen shots of blue films in gay dating sites. Their profile in gay dating sites would read “NO CLEAR FACEPIC. NO REPLY”, it is an irony that their pics would be of their genitals. (I tell myself “so what? Honey! May be they feel that’s their face pic”) They would start a whole campaign to vilify someone. They are sometimes homos in real world but still in the closet. Kudos to their skill to be a part of the queer world yet launch an attack from within. Now I know where the phrase “meri billi aur mujhi se meow?” (My cat and she meows me?) comes from.

Zip it!

“schhhhhhh…. It’s a secret”

Closets are the sexiest place for some people. They maintain the secrets there. The secrets are well guarded. And there is no possibility of a leak anywhere.

Yeah… I know of a group of such people who are secretive with everybody. I was told about a secret by ten different people about one person. But yes, it is still a secret. Also, there are secrets like having sex with a closeted guy. I know a guy who was closeted. So closeted that in his early twenties, his count of sexpedes has almost reached 200, so I presume that he is closeted with everybody, and everybody is closeted with everybody, so no one knows! What a well guarded secret! even Sherlock homes can’t find out. Ain’t it?

The Religious Types
“… can I enter into nirvana”

God is in them – they have divinity flowing in every cell of their body. You are engulfed in the aroma of agarbattis (incense sticks) and mombattis (candles) as soon as they open their mouth. And you feel like you are floating in the cosmos with some fluorescent light acting as a halo around your head when you are with them. That blessed you are with divine bliss!

The problem is that the halo is hollow. The extension of religion is on regions even religion would have not thought about. Like I had this ‘encounter’ with this guy some ten years back, we dated over yahoo messenger. He spoke about the bad sex he had, and good sex he had and the usual sex he had. He spilled a lot of beans about the cherries that he popped in. He informed me that he was orally explicit. (I heard him say ‘yumm’) Our web cams knew more about us. And we wished we met in real. And then the day arrived. It was his house and his velvet bed. He was all over me… Suddenly reality struck me like a thud. This man said that he will not engage in oral sex as he is vegetarian… Puzzled, I asked “heinnn… so what’s that got to do with oral sex” and he replied “I am a. And my religion doesn’t permit eating non-veg”. My orgasm responded quickly to this organism that had his head on just below my navel. And I lost my libido immediately. I replied “dude. This isn’t pork sausage”and my name is not “dinner”.

That’s what is called the trip of the lip of the divine consciousness. Khair chodo (well! leave it) , Guess, it isn’t sin to drive someone up the mountain and then pushing him to ensure he comes tumbling down. Huh!

F ‘n’ F

“fuck and forget… married men.. no way”

Sin it is,
to lie and lay.
to do a man during the wee- sunny hours,
And sleep with a woman at the end of the day.

What on earth would 'do' a married man?When we narrate incidences about married men keeping their wives in the dark, suddenly the andar-ki-feminist (the feminist within) of gay men finds an uprising. One of my friends told me “I had sex with him anyway – three times. But it just happened, I had not planned it. I am not the F n F (fuck and forget) types. I would not do married men consciously”. (Did that sound like “I am pregnant, but not my fault, it’s by accident”?) I was like “yaa baby. You did it thrice subconsciously-unconsciously”. Guess such minds should be preserved in a metaphysics museum. The fact is that most would care a duck about marital status if the guy was smoking hot.

English Babu
“… LOTR is my DDLJ”

English is at the tip of tongue of these people. They love English. They watch only English movies. And they have only English sex. I mean moaning in English. (Haven’t you heard the awww.. baby… go slow… baby” orgasm ?) Johny Depp is their Shahrukh Khan, and LOTR is their DDLJ. They have a great sense of English humour. They know the difference between English and Irish just as eloquently they can point the difference between American and Australian English. (It is not their fault that when they were born, first the encyclopedia popped out of the womb)

They wouldn’t have “fun” with desi guys (at least that’s what they say in sexclusive public forums) I know of people of the English Babu category whose fantasies would include the likes of construction workers and “rugged” Indian men (Rickshaw and Cabbbie Drivers can jump the queue) They would only have coffee at costa and barista. (Please ensure that you pronounce coffee in a way that the tip of your throat feels tickled- ‘KHAUFFF… EEEEE’). They hate GrammarGandus (grammar assholes) like me and read fat novels. Their general talks revolve around cars and bikes while other lowly creatures would be cribbing about the time table of local trains or metros going haywire. They are clearly the divide between HS (high society) and LS (low society). Everything that’s not English is LS. You have to shake your head and acknowledge – (understand this “emancipated into the doctrine of being flabbergasted about the core identity of queerdom and the hetronormitive nature of the homosapien that is lost in the core indulgence of fornication.” Didn’t understand? {rolls eyes and says to self : Fuck! Eww! How dumb! } And if you don’t know who Dumbledore uncle or Rowling aunty is then you are definitely simply not their “type’. Every party that plays Hindi music is a nautanki. Bollywood is a no brainer. “I wanted to go to a party, and uff.. I came to this mujra” – have you heard that before?

Self- Confessed Saints
“ I like him. But I don’t like his devious ways.”

The above statement doesn't mean that he doesn’t like him Okay!. It only means that he doesn't like him when he does something stupid, but likes him otherwise.

Such people think they are god’s gift to mankind. Every day there will be people thanking them on their facebook walls. They would have fan pages and secret admirers. Some would flaunt their photos with them, while others will simply make them their man-mandir-ka-devta. (God of the temple of the heart) They are the ones who flaunt their entourage of fans and are seen in TV all the time. (So much that if you don’t see them on TV you wonder “I hope he is alive”)

These people are like cats. They have 9 lives and rush behind the media like how your friendly neighbourhood Tom runs meowing behind fisherwomen. They are people who would orgasm instantly when you spell the M of media. Their eyes pop out and they turn into a different species when the camera is switched on. They recycle the same things in different words in different channels. (Well its not their fault if media calls them? – they say. Like they are the only gay man alive in India) They are shameless self patronizing kinds . These people will never take a stand because they are scared that their sacred position will be threatened by opponents. They are the do-gooders who will not risk their position by being the queer king speaking against anything or anybody. I wonder how they always have a sad story to share. I’m seriously bored of seeing them rant about their life perpetually virtually every time.

These are people who bitch about the whole world in the pretext of writing an article on Gay Bitches. Media Sluts like Harish Iyer fall in this category. (Guess he has a Hate Page on facebook – leme go and LIKE that)

How convenient? Isn’t it?

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