Let’s Go Thumpa Thumpa Baby

As soon as we walked in we were surrounded by a world of some beautiful and some not so beautiful men (euphemism for ugly). They were there in all shapes, colors and sizes. And it was undoubtedly a celebration of physical perfection. You had to preen, pout, parade and of course pray that you were not missed by the hunk you were gazing at while sipping on some terrible house wine. Thankfully for me, after being offered BJs from complete strangers (which statistically can be broken down to 15% flattering and 85% grossing out at the same time) and being ass pinched for the 70th time (bum still raw and healing after that night of pinching- nope you perv. nothing else happened!), I met an old acquaintance, lets call him Hardy Boy.

So what’s up fellow Gaysi’s? I assume most of you in Delhi would have turned up for the Queer Pride, so breeders take note that ‘we are queer and we are here’, so make your peace with it.

For those of who did turn up for the Pride, good on you and for those who are still living in the closet, do find the courage (no pressure, take your own time and space, you will know when the time is right) to come out and play! There is a fabulous world out there with people just like you, dealing with the same existential crisis that you are facing and guess what, they will be happy to help you through this journey of self discovery. It was not too long ago, that I was exactly at the same place that you are and I can tell you one thing for sure; I am so much happier being out, rather than living a lie and conforming to the heteronormative pattern of life, which denies my very being.

Anyways, this week’s column is not on coming out but on queer spaces and the madness and mayhem that exists therein. It does make for a delightful read, even if I have to say so myself. So read on loved ones.

This Saturday night, after being brought on board to the Gaysi team, me and my two best girl friends ‘Twiddle Dee’ (total hottie, who isn’t yet forty-Rhymes) and ‘Twiddle Da’ (completely nutty and lover of coffee) went to Queer Pre-Bash Party to have our own celebrations.

As soon as we walked in we were surrounded by a world of some beautiful and some not so beautiful men (euphemism for ugly). They were there in all shapes, colors and sizes. And it was undoubtedly a celebration of physical perfection. You had to preen, pout, parade and of course pray that you were not missed by the hunk you were gazing at while sipping on some terrible house wine. Thankfully for me, after being offered BJs from complete strangers (which statistically can be broken down to 15% flattering and 85% grossing out at the same time) and being ass pinched for the 70th time (bum still raw and healing after that night of pinching- nope you perv. nothing else happened!), I met an old acquaintance, lets call him Hardy Boy. It’s strange but coming out (really, it is a continuous exercise) is way more fun, when the person you are coming out to has been gay since time immemorial. I guess in Hardy Boy’s case, even the deaf, dumb and blind would figure out that he’s gay.

Anyway after shaking my booty with reckless abandon and causing a gazillion sighs and moans across the room, I realized that some of my Pandus were on the dance floor (What Gaysi’s you don’t know who my Pandus are? I order you to read my first post asap). As I inched my way closer to one of the Pandu’s, I realized that he was a taken man and was getting it on, nice and hard with another Pandu. Hear glass shatter, deafening shrieks and a shrill voice say ‘Nahhhhhhhhhi’. Gay Delhi’s two most eligible men were taken. They were hocked, booked and cooked. This just isn’t fair!! Just when I was beginning to let my heart go aflutter, the world conspires against me. Anyways, Hardy Boy is as cute as a button and was a great distraction, and if only he shows a little more interest and showers me with affection, I would fall for him lock, stock and in his smoking hot barrel 😀 Hardy Boy if you reading this please note that pinging me incessantly on my black berry messenger doesn’t work. You need to show me some tender loving care and emotion, only then I shall be yours. Btw Gaysis, where do you find single, sensible and hot men in this city, who just aren’t after a booty call!! In case you are single and ready to mingle, write to me. It’s an order!

Anyways, coming back to the fateful night, after a few shimmies and pirouettes with an ex-dance instructor in a grey sweater (had a super time with you boy….if you read this, contact @Razorsharprolzi on twitter or Facebook me), some moves with a wanna be but never gonna be painter with dirty cuticles and a boring lawyer, it was time to leave and say au-revoir to the wild party. And…. just when we are about to leave we met with the two catastrophes of the evening.

Catastrophe One: Uggg Road Side Romeo (“Roadie”) sings ‘Aaati Kya Khandala’

Roadie walks to Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Da and insists on kissing them. To begin with, the gals assuming that he is a queer man in a gay club inform Roadie that in case he hasn’t noticed, they are women. Instead of walking away, this lead to his shocking revelation that he was not ‘A Gay’ and instead ‘A STRET’ (no these ain’t typos, this was Roadie’s terrible diction and grammar) and that he came to a gay club to find guess what??? Believe it or not, WOMEN. While, I couldn’t help but collapse at this most comical situation, his incessant flirting did get out of hand. Tell me Gaysis, is this a routine feature at gay parties? Aren’t these queer spaces?? While, we are happy to share them with all, please note breeders, this ain’t a spot for straight men to find women. Anyways to sort this problem out, the gals told our man, Roadie that they are lesbian and thankfully (there is a good lord), two lesbian women wasn’t this man’s super sexual fantasy sequence. However, this lead to catastrophe 2.

Catastrophe 2: Pandu 3, P’Cock says hello to our Lesbo Ranis

So P’Cock, an old classmate of Twiddle Da overhears the conversation between the gals and Roadie and goes ballistic at the prospect of an old classmate being gay. And then proceeds to interrogating our innocent Twiddle Dee, who, having no presence of mind at all, answer his questions rather squarely and may be, queerly (is that a word??):

P’cock: “Where did you girls meet?”

Twiddle Dee: “At work” (Giggling away…the effects of too many margaritas)

P’Cock: “You look so happy and gay?”

Twiddle Dee: “Yeah, this place is so much fun and the crowd is great. I love it and will definitely come here more often!!”

End result: As Twiddle Da and I watch in horror, Twiddle Dee has outed herself, when she is straight!! No wonder this chickie finds no men and is heading to Bangkok to literally bang cock.

So if you are reading this P’Cock, the gals aren’t gay and if only you spent more time on me and not on Twiddle Dee and Twiddle Da, we could attempt things more fun ;p P’Cock, please focus on me and let’s see your plumes!! We could discuss sociology at your place or mine.

Anyways time for Razorsharp Rolzie to call it a night and jump into his four coaster bed. So a big hug and a wet kiss for my Gaysis. Muaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! (You’re right that was one hell of a kiss)

P.S. – Hardy Boy, you are on the top of my list. Atleast for now. I love it when my man knows his art and craft. Poori Aloo, apologies I was totally out of line on Saturday, let’s blame it on too much of Boyzone and Backstreet boys which ruined my mental equilibrium. If it is any consolation Twiddle Da loves you and is happy to take you home.

About the author

Razorsharp Rolzie

Razorsharp Rolzie is a 20 something toy boy, who is as cute as button but be warned he has a sharp tongue (some would say acerbic) and isn’t afraid to bite. RR is passionate about design, art, cinema, dance and drama. Although currently, he is dealing with his quarter life crisis (subject for column number 67, yup dear readers you will have to deal with so much more of him), he is also embracing his homo identity and in his own words “Am queer and loving it”.