As someone who followed the Jessica Lal case very closely, watching almost similar turn of events unfold on the celluloid screen in the film No One Killed Jessica was quite emotional. Well so it ended up being. Now mind you, it was a film I knew I would like even before the reviews were up or the film was released.
My younger brother was out to a holiday party, and my parents asked me to come sit with them. I was assuming they wanted to watch an old Malayalam movie with me or something, but in retrospect that would have been the less torturous option. Instead, my parents wanted to discuss my “lesbian tendencies”. I’m beginning to think my dad should copyright the phrase “lesbian tendencies” for usage by future homophobes/jerks.
It appeared perfectly straightforward. I thought "Heck, I read every single thing on Gaysi , I am just going to pick all my posts as the best." Apparently, my co-author on this piece [In heart & spirit only, I assure you] Rashmi, had the same 'diabolical idea'. Her exact words were "I am sure you will do a great job!
Nervously, I rubbed the baking soda and water mixture into my scalp and rinsed it out with diluted lemon juice. I was surprised that the kitchen supplies actually cleaned my hair. After getting dressed I rinsed my face with the rose and honey face wash I had made the night before. I was so proud of myself, but very amused by the whole routine.
It’s been about six months since I have known Kreacher and for most part I have been chasing Kreacher for what seems like eternity now (in reality, about three months). But my attempts at trying to snog Kreacher have been disastrous so far. This post therefore is my attempt at chronicling Love (not in the time of Cholera) but in the times of the Twenty Ten.
... when the conversation goes past the usual "Hi, Bye and what did you cook?", I know this is a coming out process starting all over again.
How do you know
What is really happening
When you’re unconscious?
How do you trust,
Really trust, those around you?
If you are left pregnant
And you hadn’t had sex,…
You know the clock doesn't tell you the year but you feel relieved with the fact that there a few hours less to go than when you turn 18, even though its months away. You think your life will change. You'll be in college, and you'll have really nice friends and you'll have the perfect boyfriend and your life will change. You can start fresh.
Here’s the deal. Yes, I’m bisexual. I don’t like the word (I greatly prefer “queer”), but I’ll use it for simplicity’s sake here.
I visited New Jersey last year to visit some family friends and we took a daytrip to Manhattan. I wasn’t paying attention to the scenery, but when I was paying attention I wasn’t really that impressed. New Jersey was boring and Manhattan was claustrophobic.
I was never the type of person who had the big dreams of moving to either coast, and I (unfairly) looked down at those people in High School that did because they rarely moved to those places in the end.
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.
I had another epiphany,
At about 11pm.
I was thinking on break ups,
On their entire need to exist.
For binds that aren’t
In a toxic state,
I was amazed …
By letting you know I am Queer, I brought you into my closeted world – where the rules of society are stifling and empathy runs rampant. It is hardly a terrible place, the people in it make the best of it – they live and love when the whole world points and stares and decides for them otherwise. I knew how hard it would be for you. I knew I would be responsible for everything you went through hearing of my sexuality.
I first came out to my parents about a year and a half ago. I hadn't been in college for a full year yet, but I was already tired of keeping secrets. It went over like a lead balloon, and my parents were both upset and disbelieving - they considered it a phase. We barely mentioned it again, and eventually, I became aware that I would need to come out....again. However, I didn't plan to do it anytime soon - I fully intended to wait until I was done with school. Life had other plans....
What do I mean? Well, I went to a co-ed school. I read books and had people about me who thought that finding out stuff about sex was to be expected and encouraged. So theoretically speaking I’d come across the possibility of same-sex relationships by the time I was, maybe, 12ish. (Okay, that’s cause I used to sneak into the adults section of the library.) It took me till 15ish to realize people around me, grown up or otherwise thought same-sex sex was a hideous awful thing and people so inclined were sick, genetically or otherwise.
Here’s a look at an article published on CNN Go (Asia) stating the 10 Gifts from Mumbai’s LGBT community.
Do I have your undivided attention loyal Gaysi reader? I know that the lady folk have seized this website with their ‘clit active’ material but now it is time for us men to ‘RAISE’ our consciousness (nothing else you Pervert, this ain’t that sorta site!!) and as your self-appointed representative, share the concerns, fears and worries that plague us Gaysi men.
So darling boys, log off Xtube or whatever else your ‘dingle’ dangles to and devour this delightful factual account of my experiences in coming out or at least, attempting to come out and the madness and mayhem that follows in my attempt to find Mr. Right.
As I have been juggling 5 different medications for my epilepsy I have been lifeless, friendless, and loveless. As I have stopped eating I have lost weight and I have been secretly excited about it. Who is this that is excited about being skinny again? I thought I was that fat-positive queer, feminist. Where has she gone?