Monday, 23 March 2015

If heaven had a window

If heaven had a window and God granted me a view,
of all the beauty it beholds I'd only look for you.
I'd listen for your laughter that was always music to me,
your beautiful hair and hazel eyes is what I'd wish most to see.
If I could only view once more the smile that warmed my heart,
I'd treasure that moment as long as I live and we must be apart.
Here on earth I search for you and pray to God for signs,
and every day that passes you're still with me in my mind.
I know you're happy in heaven you've earned your mansion indeed,
I imagine your kitchen table and you waiting there for me.
I love you and I miss you more than words can say,
and what I wouldn't give just to talk to you today.
I hope that you can hear me and listen to my thoughts,
and where ever this life takes me you know I've not forgot.
That once upon a time I was blessed and loved its true,
and if heaven had a window I'd only look for you.

Sunday, 22 March 2015

A Boy And His Closet: My Coming Out Story


So how did you figure out that you’re …gay?
The first time someone asked me this, I was in the 10th grade and I had just come out to my best friend. We had a free study period due to the CBSE board exams just around the corner, and she asked me why I had been so fidgety all day long. I tried to go with the ‘I’m nervous about exams’ excuse but she knew otherwise. So we went on a long walk around the school to talk it out. I was 14-years-old at the time, a highly self-motivated student with big plans and seemingly no worries. It would have taken me a second to tell her, ‘I’m gay’, but it took me an hour to gain the courage. She had no qualms about the fact that her best friend was gay but I still didn’t have an answer to her question.
In 7th grade, I spent most of my time with a small group of male friends. This meant that our conversations spiralled around 3 topics that we apparently weren’t supposed to be talking about: hot girls, the human body, and sex. The only information we had about these ‘trending topics’ came from popular movies, music, and ridiculous classroom rumours like ‘masturbation will give you pimples’. But although it was very exciting to talk about all of this, I could never quite relate to how my friends felt. While they described their vivid dreams about some porn star’s breasts, I told them fake stories of how some girl made me feel some way. I kept waiting to feel that certain way about a girl so that I could tell them real stories, but that never happened. I knew by then that I was so much more fascinated with the male body but the idea that I was gay never struck me.
In 8th grade, the word gay was synonymous with stupid, lame, and inferior. It took me another 2 years and lots of internet surfing to realise that homosexuality was more than an insult and that I wasn’t the only male who was physically attracted to other males. I still wasn’t ready to call myself gay though. In my mind, no one else in India was gay as far as my teachers, classmates, and politicians were concerned, and I definitely did not want to be the odd one out. Especially not in high school. I was also told that it was a choice, so I chose to ‘un-gay’ myself, or tried to, at least. That didn’t work either – for me, Varun Dhawan was still hotter than Alia Bhatt. What’s worse is that I actually believed for some time that I brought on my sexuality through some set of decisions and choices, and that I could get over it by engaging in sexual intercourse with a girl. Since no one talked about it, the silence only convinced me more of all my misconceptions.
Finally, in 10th grade, I fell for a boy and things started to change. I had a puzzle of mixed feelings for the funniest guy in my class, and when I put the pieces together, I could call it a crush. In retrospect, it was the silliest but most exciting experience to have at the time. It was the first time I could feel butterflies in my stomach, all those awkward cheesy feelings, and that curiosity about what it would be like to kiss the boy I liked. There was something intriguing about holding a secret so tight, but I had so many unanswered questions and a lot of hesitation. I finally wanted someone to talk to about what I was starting to experience. Subtle homophobic bullying plagued the school corridors with remarks about how homosexuality is disgusting. But when non-heterosexual representation increased in the media, people were finally talking about it. It was starting to get lonely and dark in my closet, but at least I could recognise the closet I was in.
As the doubts haunted my adolescent mind, I was so afraid that I may never be able to have a satisfying relationship with anyone. If only I saw more gay people that I could relate to in my school, in movies, in newspapers and in books, I wouldn’t have felt that way. All I needed to know was that gay people existed in my country and that they were completely ‘normal’ – that I was completely ‘normal’.
When I explained this story to my best friend during our long walk, I realised that my answer to her question shouldn’t have been so complex and long. If only we’d learnt earlier in school that human sexuality is diverse, intrinsic, and ubiquitous, perhaps we would think twice before pushing more teenagers into their closets.
Today, I can see how much has changed since that significant day. I’ve come out to all my friends and my closest family members, and almost all the reactions have been positive. For most people, it was the first time someone came out to them, and so a lot of explanations were needed. But would it have been different for people like me if we knew about human sexuality already? The student bodies in our schools today are taking forward the pressing need for Comprehensive Sexuality Education with initiatives such as Social Awareness Week . Perhaps if we start to #TalkSexuality in schools today, the impact will shut more ignorant ideas and open more closet doors for students nationwide. Perhaps, as people will then be more informed about gender and different sexual identities, which may decrease the likelihood of bullying and derogatory comments from peers and teachers, and prevent people from feeling ‘wrong’ or ‘alone’, among other issues.

NOTE: We , the people at stupid cupid house take it as an immense pleasure to support the people who are not able to express themselves. We hereby declare that we are not making any mockery, of any section of the society.

Porn, For All Its Pleasures, Is Not Reality. It’s Entertainment


It was fifth grade; the time of hopeless misinformation and burgeoning puberty. The mornings were reserved for droning lectures that put us to sleep but our lunch hours were reserved for erudite discussions about history, art and politics. No, I kid. It was the hour when young boys discussed the topic that confounded us most – the funny feeling we got sometimes when we saw a girl.
In due course of time we turned to the most useful source of information available – porn. One morning, a classmate beckoned a group of us excitedly. We were four gawky nerds. Our friend, by dint of his slightly extended curiosity about sex, was the ‘wild one’. He told us he had found his older brother’s collection of porn on his desktop and had watched one of the videos. We had never seen our friend so animated. He broke into a stream of garbled sentences about its sights and sounds. The woman was moaning loudly. Her breasts flapped in a rhythmic motion. They were having sex. We were all appalled at our friend’s shocking lack of moral behaviour, but also a little jealous. After all, one of the qualities that define a boy at that age is sexual curiosity.
A few days later, when the friend in question’s parents and older brother were safely away, we congregated at his place. We were too young to realise how weird it was that four boys were watching porn together. That activity took an exalted tone. It was our rite of passage from boys to men.
The video started and all I remember was being disgusted. Sex looked so painful and messy. At that age, with my obliviousness to the nature of sexuality, the people in the video came off like grunting animals I had once seen in a zoo. We couldn’t believe that our parents had indulged in this repulsive act to bring us into the world. Once it ended, all of us were silent. We said our awkward goodbyes and went home. I couldn’t sleep that night because the guilt racked me.
As I grew older, I realised that watching porn wasn’t a sin. In fact, it was also a great stress reliever (that’s about the classiest way I can put it). Every year added a few notches of awareness and porn viewing slowly became part of our ritual as teenagers. We used to exchange videos, debate the hotness levels of the women in Naughty America videos and discuss those close calls – when parents walked into the room at inappropriate moments.
This dissipation of guilt was also accompanied by a deeper understanding of porn once I got into the age of relationships. I realised that it was far from a realistic depiction of sex. Not all women maybe ready and willing to have sex in an elevator or perform oral sex at the man’s beck and call. Moreover, women in porn generally have giant breasts, tiny waist sizes and Brazilian waxes. It’s very much a romantic fantasy catered towards men, not unlike those Anne Hathaway romantic comedies that teenage girls like.
Moreover, my penis does not resemble the members I’ve seen on-screen, which seem to have a life of their own. I spent part of my childhood worried if my penis was the right size because porn had normalised large sizes as the benchmark. Not to mention the ones on screen were erect all the time. If porn has unrealistic depictions of women, it also reinforces standards of masculinity, which we, as men can’t live up to.
Porn also unfortunately creates a stark racial fantasy. Most middle-class Indian boys are reared on porn that features white men and women. I had a heterosexual friend once tell me that he didn’t watch porn if it had a black man in it, even if he was watching for the woman. It was easier for this Delhi bred boy to put himself in the shoes of a white male than a black one, even in partaking in such ludicrous fantasies. I also wonder how many young men in India have formed their primary impressions of white women based on the porn they have watched. It’s not correct to conflate the play acting of porn with the likes of an entire race of people but like porn, a lot of men, for reasons that are extremely debatable, are fantastic at categorising women into good girl, slut, bitch and aunty.
It’s only natural that all of us turn to porn as a source of information. We have few platforms to discuss sexuality in India, least of all with teenagers. This is a country where a majority of schools don’t have ‘sex education’ classes. Even in classrooms, students’ natural curiosities are shut down with either avoidance or curt responses by teachers.
Moreover, female sexuality is still taboo. The few times it is discussed in school by female teachers, boys are sent out. Don’t boys also have a right to know what changes are taking place with the other gender? Puberty is a time of shared concerns. Openly discussing masturbating and menstruation will only engender mutual support and respect.
Ultimately, we are failing our young generation by leaving them to uncover such information covertly. Porn for all its pleasures, is not reality. It’s entertainment. Using it for education about sexuality is like looking towards Dabangg for information about the Indian police force! And if our young men traipse around and expect a woman saying no to actually mean ‘yes’, it’s because we have left all the edifying to videos with titles like ‘Indian aunty hot sex’.
Do you think porn is one of the sources of information on sexuality for young people? Is that information reliable and accurate? What other sources do young people refer to for such information?
Conversations that remotely have any connection with sexuality are more often than not pushed under the carpet. Vikas Joshi and Stupid Cupid House through#TalkSexuality have taken a step towards creating a space for these conversations around sexuality highlighting the need for Comprehensive Sexuality Education.

जागते जीते हुए दूधिया कोहरे से लिपट कर, साँस लेते हुए इस कोहरे को महसूस किया है ?


सर्दियाँ हमेशा से बड़ी पसंद हैं हमें... कि थोड़ा अलसाया, थोड़ा रूमानी, थोड़ा मिस्टीरियस, थोड़ा सूफ़ियाना सा ये मौसम बिलकुल अपने जैसा लगता है...

इन सर्दियों के पहले कोहरे ने आज सुबह सवेरे दस्तक दी... अमूमन आजकल देर से ही उठाना हो रहा है... गलती हमारी नहीं है... ये कम्बख्त रज़ाइयाँ तैयार ही नहीं होती अपनी गिरफ़्त से आज़ाद करने को... ख़ैर आज सुबह उनकी तमाम कोशिशों को नाकाम कर के बरामदे में पहुँचे तो देखा नर्म शफ्फाफ़ कोहरा अपनी पुर असरार ख़ुश्बू का मलमली शॉल ओढ़े लिपटा हुआ है धरती के आग़ोश में... जैसे सदियों से बिछड़े प्रेमी मिले तो बस एक दूजे से लिपट गए सब लोक लाज छोड़ छाड़ के... कितने देर तलक उनके इस पाकीज़ा मिलन को यूँ एक टक तकता रहा... सोचा के फ्रीज़ कर लूँ इन दिव्य लम्हों को मन के कैमरे में...

मेरी इस टकटकी को तोड़ा बातूनी कबूतरों के एक जोड़े ने... जाने क्या गुटर गूं  - गुटर गूं लगा रखी थी सुबह सुबह... आप बेवजह हमें बोलते हो की हम बहुत बक बक करते हैं.. देखो इन्हें... इत्ती ठंडी में भी चैन नहीं है... ज़रूर मम्मी को कोई बहाना मार के आये होंगे सुबह सुबह कि बड़ा ज़रूरी कोई काम है और यहाँ कोहरे में छुप के बातें कर रहे हैं... ख़ैर करने दो.. हमें क्या...

ये कोहरा देख के हर बार ही मन होता है कि हाथ बढ़ा के छू लूँ इसे... या फूँक कर उड़ा दूँ... ताज़ी धुनकी रुई के जैसे कोहरे के इन फाहों को... जो बैठ गए हैं हर एक चीज़ पर और सब कुछ इनके ही रंग में रंग गया है.. या चुटकी भर ये कोहरा चाय में घोल के पी जाऊँ... या फ़िर लेप लूँ अपने तन मन पर मुट्ठी भर ये मदहोश कर देने वाली गंध... के जैसे साधू कोई भस्म लगा लेता है तन पर...

जानते हो कैसे मिली इसे ये भीनी ख़ुश्बू ? कोहरे और धरती के उस पाकीज़ा मिलन से... पर तुम तो न कुछ समझती ही नहीं... याद है कितना हँसी थी तुम... इक बार जब कहा था मैंने कि मुझे इस कोहरे की ख़ुश्बू बहुत अच्छी लगती है... कितना मज़ाक बनाया था तुमने मेरा... ये कह के कि तुम पागल हो बिलकुल... कोहरे की भी भला कोई ख़ुश्बू होती है... देखो न जान आज फिर से वही महक तारी है फिज़ा में अल-सुबह से... आज फिर तुम हँस रही हो मुझ पर...

मुझे इस कोहरे की ख़ुश्बू वाला कोई इत्र ला दो न जानां.. कि ये कोहरे वाली सर्दियाँ पूरे साल नहीं रहतीं...!

A lost hope

Fountains of lament burst through my desires for you.. Stood like the height of a pillar that you were, I could see your moving eyes ...