The meta-post

The past few days, a couple of the fellow co-conspirator(s) (as one of our dear blogger friend prefers to call ourselves) had detailed their hardships in christening their entries. Fair. Even I have had had my share of title travails. Like for example whilst I tried to figure out a name for today’s post. I have a wide array of stuff to write about, albeit personal. And I was left to wonder as to how to sum it all up. I didn’t have to think too hard to come up with, what some might call an ‘intelligent’ title. [Pause, with a gracious bow to raptures of clapping from the audience comprising of 5 people.]. Thank you, thank you ladies and more… uhh… ladies!

I guess I’ve been rambling about sleeping troubles (references 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 and 6). I’ve been ranting about solving those, at least to myself (in my head), for at least the last couple of days. Today I did it. Yesterday, I forced myself to fall asleep reading a book. That seemed to be the unanimous choice of experts from all corners of the globe to the clinical phenomenon of disorder of falling into sleep. If you are not aware, most of the medications prescribed by shrinks and pharmacists for sleep, are actually to let us fall asleep rather than to make us sleep more. [Funda 1 of the day] This funda will be highlighted in a tangential drift vide infra.

I spent about 2 hours reading Alan Hollinghurst’s ‘The Line of Beauty’. It’s a charming book mainly because of the fantastic adjectives and phrases which are only used in formal parlance in the high English society. So I had my Oxford Advanced Learner’s Dictionary beside me constantly providing me spasms of unusable knowledge. I distinctly remember four instances when I was in the process of getting into the first stages of NREM sleep [Funda 2 of the day: Sleep is composed of stages which are divided to NREM and REM sleep] when sounds of squeaking and scrambling through my kitchen-stuff, which the classical music that I was playing was unable to drown, awakened me. I was frustrated. I wished if I could go to a supermarket and get those unhuman-fequency-noise-emitting-devices (reference)to ward off these silly weird creatures. Finally at around 6 ‘O Clock in the morning, I fell asleep.

I woke up to brisk knocking on the door at around 9 ‘O Clock. Warily, I got up from bed and opened the door. My jaw dropped when I saw that it was my landlord and his wife visiting their cute little apartment, after a period of 3 months of recluse in Dubai. Thankfully, the apartment was not too shabby (at least for a straight guy). Even though there weren’t any places to seat them, I invited them to sit on the longish cushion that I had made out of one half of the mattress which lay by the window in the living room. They refused. Instead they walked in and checked out the teeny-weeny studio apartment, which was my abode. I guess they were impressed at the levels of cleanliness and order (at least for a bachelor).

Soon the conversation shifted to what plumbing/carpentry/electrical work that I had done at the apartment. He had agreed to settle the expenses when we would meet. I was still delirious because of the relative hyposomnia and could not recollect the exact amount that I had ended up spending. The golden chance to procure some money in the darkest monetary phase of my life was slipping away. They were about to leave.

Then, something incredible happened. The landlord’s wife, an intelligent looking lady, walked to the little ‘table’ made out of the biggest carton that I had and began checking out my book collection. A rich sprinkling of the best of fiction from the recent years including the likes of Rushdie, Hosseini, Desai, Lahiri must have been the causes of redemption (despite the presence of Rand, Robbins [Harold!] and Crichton and Marvel comics). The conversation went on when I explained them that the collection is not only mine, but also my friend’s (Noise Market’s singer Jodi also reads a lot). I offered the coffee which was against dealt with a firm ‘no’.

By then the conversation had eased out and I think I was also woken up. I managed to convince them that I needed some money and I would appreciate if they gave me some money for the work that I had done. We rounded up to a nice sum which will be deducted from the actual amount at a later date and that was scribbled in a cheque and handed over to me. It was like my Christmas present without the Santa, reindeers, the cute sexy Santa-helper-dwarves and of course, Christmas!

It was such a relief that I forgot to pee in the morning. Okay, okay… I made this up entirely for recreational purposes. I’m a creative writer and I require that kind of space and freedom!

So, I was happy and relieved and felt like the little pieces of my life were falling into place again. After a brief roundup of news and my internet-footprint over a cup of black coffee, I was amused to observe that the effects of my good-fortune seemed to have crossed Sethusamundaram as I watched ‘See-wag’ and ‘Gam-bhier’ paste the ‘M’ duo around the Galle cricket ground. [Funda 3 of the day: This cricket stadium was a close witness and victim of the 2004 Tsunami as this ground lies next to the Indian Ocean.] The weather, too, was looking much better with the sun belting down on Mumbai. Without wasting my opportunity, I finished the boring chore of washing my clothes, put them on hangers to dry at the living room window. After a shower, I was ready to take on the world.

I spent the afternoon at the studio with the band. It was very entertaining with the conversation ranging from concepts for our first music video to bollywood gossip about the Khans and the Kaifs. We did all this chatter at a room beside the main control room where our dear audio engineer and his intern were mixing the songs. I’m proudly pleased to announce that it’s shaping up good!

As the evening started making out with the night, I cantered out of the studio feeling gleeful about the entire schema of my life. I felt that this money that I had just procured had unleashed me from my poverty, which had taken its toll on my lifestyle. I had actually stopped buying foodstuff like milk, vegetables and bread and had restricted myself to a diet with just rice soup and instant noodles with the occasional ordering-out from a cheap restaurant. Sauntering into the Reliance Fresh outlet with a guitar strapped to my shoulders and with an I *heart* NY T-shirt, I must have looked like a hippie rock star.

I indulged in some serious shopping ranging from groceries to shampoos to garbage bags. I think I must have had that glint in the eye of someone who just had sex or something because I saw a lot people staring at me. I don’t think that I deserved any further attention that normal despite the trimming and styling of my entire cranial hair that I had just got at a cheap saloon nearby. I even managed to get a seriously hot 32 and ¾ th-ish guy looking at me!

The walk back to the apartment was even more comic-o-bnoxious [in search of a better adjective here. Even Vinokur couldn’t help me out.] Add about 7 shopping bags to my otherwise rock-star look and you will coin some neologism yourself! I made it past all the reproachful stares in my apartment building where people make comments to each other about people like me in Tamil without even thinking of the fact that I might, just might, understand what they are talking about. The nerve!

Back home, it was time to spend a peaceful, satisfying, family evening with my husband/wife over Skype. You know, for those who don’t understand long-distance-relationships, it’s fun! We have coffee, meals with each other. We spend time with the other in the kitchen helping each other with our recipes etc. We spend time discussing art, books, music with each other. All of this thanks to Skype.

Today, Vinokur was not feeling great. He’s having sleeping problems yet again and to my dismay he has tried the tried-and-detested method of adjusting the sleeping medication according to his own judgement. I was unhappy and didn’t lose time in making my thoughts clear. Thereby, I again bring to light, the ‘Funda 1 of the day’. The sleeping medication that he’s taking is losing it’s potency to make him fall asleep. It doesn’t take an Einstein to figure out that by taking more of this drug will not affect the process of falling asleep in a person but will succeed in giving the adverse effect of excessive, prolonged sedation.

[Funda 4 of the Day] So kids, don’t try this at home. Don’t titrate your psycho-pharmaceutical drug without consulting your shrink.

And thus I come to the end of this post. I have a lot more stuff to write about and ask you people. I’ll put them as addendum.
  1. Do they have something like SnapShots (in WordPress) in Blogger?
  2. Does anybody watch cricket these days?
  3. Is anybody interested in music-related posts; say the review of an album or an artist?
  4. Am I too long-drawn and boring?
  5. Like flygye, should I list the characters on my blog so that readers could understand better?
  6. I’m thinking of a blog-post-chain where I want to sort of celebrate the amazing, thought-provoking Indian blog content that I have come across lately. Something like a mini-review appraisal of the blogs that I frequently read. Someone interested in doing that?

(PS: I think it's too long. Hardly any comments. Ergo, I'm ordering the last list. I'll also make it easier for people to comment by making a default template for comments. Here goes.)
Default Comment Template
  • About the rant:
  1. Snapshots:
  2. Cricket:
  3. Posts about music:
  4. Long?
  5. List of characters:
  6. Posts on other bloggers:

Da Saz - Jet Lag

During the blitz of social networking that I went through last week or so, I stumbled on MySpace pages of some labels (Counter Culture, and DemonStealer) of India's budding Indie music industry. Very cool stuff. All have started websites, and as you can expect some aren't exactly functional (Only Much Louder , Counter Culture, DemonStealer). But still it was a sign of life in the Indie music industry in India.

I, like my self-centred paranoidal mind, started searching for my record label's (Phat Phish Records) footprint on the social networking spectrum. Curiously enough, I couldn't find anything. Of course, they have a fantastic website which is a treat to the eye. But still, nothing on MySpace, Orkut or Facebook.

I decided to inform my manager about this little anomaly. I did that yesterday night before going to sleep. Voila, I got a reply today morning. Yes, the reply acknowledged the fact that they need to start their own pages. But the interesting fact is that our manager got very defensive of the label explaining that they can't be compared to other labels and stuff. And the reason stated, as if I needed another kick in the nuts to get me going, and I quote 'We actually signed you guys.' If I were to picturize this in a sit-com situation in a real conversation with my manager, the camera would have zoomed out of my dorky face and focussed on the manager who would have had an expression of disbelief/irony/dismay!

Okay okay. I understand that they have been generous to support us. And I'm thankful of that. And that's the reason why I'm posting this wonderful video that our music label has made for the artist Da Saz. This, I feel, is one of the best music videos that I have seen to have come out of India. Just the kind of stuff that I reckon is cool. I must also not take any credit away from the music.



And I confess, I'm proud to be associated with our record label.

PS: My band mates and friends think that I, and only I would do such a thing, should not encourage other competitive bands and records and all that shit. I mean, how naive and self-centred is that huh? What do y'all think?

PS2: If this post comes posted more than once, blame it on YouTube. I tried posting it from there where I first saw the video. But then, it didn't come up.

Unbelievable chat transcript

I was being a nice boy, reading my big chunky Orthopaedic books listening to cultured music (Jazz and Classical; this is my way of getting back at my life and my academic career [read sloggging] which denied me any exposure to the 'so-called' high-culture until now) on my satellite radio when I heard my phone buzz. I was curious to see a message from the Yahoo SMS service. For clarity sakes, I keep myself on 24/7 on my Spidey Yahoo ID so that Vinokur can get to me in case of any problems with the computers/power/internet etc.

gothamsexyboy24: do you like to suck mine?

Before I could react

gothamsexyboy24: [ding]

I replied

krisbass: No way! And stop bothering me from henceforth!

gothamsexyboy24: Ok

What do people think when they see my profiles on Orkut/MySpace/Facebook posts on my blog or GayBombay? That I am a sucking machine? Give me a break will ya? I mean, he's just 24!

Shame-even-lesser

Advisory: This post might result in abnormal, violent reactions from all kinds of bloggers who might want to drive their artsy daggers down my back.

Those of you, three of you the last time I counted, who read my blog regularly, might have been happy after reading my last blog entry. Finally a dull, boring medico student had the epiphany of his/her life. That he/she was a loser in missing out on all the good things in life thanks to the drudgery of slogging in medical school and where not. Not just that, I had just resolved to correct this faulty evolutionary path taken by my mind with my lover Vinokur, who had knowledge about all the good things in life.

I took it up yesterday night. Vinokur was tired after another pointless visit to one of the doctors in NYC. Yet, he was anxious to imbibe into me something that he loved and cherished. We started it with a brief lecture (over Skype video for those who just lost themselves in this trans-oceanic communication weirdness) explaining how cave art evolved into stuff like Impressionism and Cubism. I listened to the lecture with multiple, somewhat stupid queries, which definitely interrupted the flow I guess.

He explained to me how the evolution of the painting schools was affected by the development of Photography. As he put it so clearly 'Romanticism was an attempt to fool the eye and photography beat it by a fair margin. Thereby, it led to other artists trying to capture 'what they felt' on canvas.' It sounded scholarly and good. But I was still confused.

I asked him 'Why would an artist want to impose his/her feelings on any scene when the viewer would want to make his own judgement/feeling about that, lets say, with either a photograph or a romanticist painting?'

That I think denoted the point when the lecture became a pain for him. He tried with jest to show me examples of art, with the gracious help of Google image thumbnails, ranging from Rembrandt and Eugene Delacroix to Van Gogh and Picasso to Salvador Dali and Frida Khalo. But in vain.

I loved the work of Rembrandt and Delcaroix and it made sense to me. Even the surrealist stuff looked something like fantasy. But the impressionist and cubist stuff - simply went over my head. For me they seemed under-worked. And I asked him the question (prepare yourself for an hour of shuddering, puking and depression) 'I think that Picasso looks like an amateur art... something that even a kid could do with a set of crayons. Explain to me why it isn't?'

That sort of capped the unfortunate evening for my lover. He resigned in despair saying 'Look Kris, I'm afraid I'm not going to be 'with' you on your voyage to discover and understand the history of art. I can't stand an intelligent, observant person like you opining and ridiculing art which have been acknowledged by the world over after looking at Google thumbnails for 4 seconds! I have been studying them for centuries and I think you are judging them far too early.'

The analogy that he tried failed me. 'Imagine a virgin classical music enthusiast listens to a grunge song by Nirvana. Wouldn't that person think that what he or she is hearing noise?' My counter argument was that 'Look, I introduced to a band Seether a few months back and you were able to appreciate the music which was going on. That was despite you liking Jazz and Classical music more than anything else. In my case I love Romanticism. But still I can't even relate to stuff like Cubsim. I mean, I don't even see the rectilinear shapes on the Picasso's self-portrait!'

The discussion, from there, went to becoming even more depressing for both of us. I suddenly realized that my 'education' had ruined me. I wasn't exposed to stuff that I should have been exposed to when I should have been exposed to. I'm already fucking 28 years old and I have no hope of understanding such art. I don't know anything about literature, architecture and painting. For somebody buried neck down in music, I hardly knew anything about music other than what Seattle Grunge has offered to the music scene.

I felt bad. I felt really bad. It felt like my life just died on me. And I don't know how to start mending.

Shameful

These days, my nights have been getting later and later. Every night, I would say 'good afternoon' to Vinokur early (around 2 AM or so) and try and go to sleep. But somehow or the other, the wretched routine of sleeping late and getting up even later has caught on to me. I need to break this and I don't know how.

Theoretically, for the last few days, I've been spending the entire day at home because of the weather. Well, excepting the visits to the movies/plays etc. But then, that too doesn't amount upto a lot of physical activity. And why do I need physical acitivity? Because I believe that I might fall asleep easier if I'm tired. Fair, I would say.

What did I do today to try and break my habit? Well, after I got up around 11 in the morning, I cleaned up the apartment. I did other chores like washing the sink and stuff. I washed some clothes and exchanged them with those who had already dried. Social networking and engrossing blog-reading captured my in-between time. And after a brief period of 'study', it was time for me to head downtown to see a gig!

It felt good to be back to being at gigs; either playing or watching. This time it was one of India's premier English language rock bands - Junkyard Groove, all the way from Chennai. For those unaware, Junkyard Groove has opened up for international acts like Iron Maiden, Slipknot etc. and they have a very fresh sound, courtesy their MySpace page. A couple of articles on TOI and Mumbai Mirror had erased any doubts as to whether I wanted to watch them gig or not.

So, I set out on my journey to the Hard Rock Cafe in Lower Parel. I was carrying my mp3 player (for those who don't know the fact: I don't dig iPods. Instead I dig the Creative Zen series of mp3 players and I own a Zen Micro), A Line of Beauty and my umbrella. Starting with the bus ride to the station, I was listening to the wailing of Alanis Morisette reading how the protagonist in the novel was charming an artful elderly gentleman with his knowledge of English literature, art and furniture. To For clarity and better understanding of the sequence of events, some of you might have to remember that I was 'soaking in shame' due to my lack of knowledge about anything interesting (read Art, History, Literature etc.) after reading and commenting on a few blogs that I came across this afternoon.

At the queue for tickets at Andheri Station, I was already reading articles about Impressionism and Cubism on Wikipedia on my PDA phone. Nothing should be draped in dampening adjectives here; I felt ignominous! I felt as if my entire life had gone waste. I didn't know tit from tat when it came to fields I had mentioned above. In the train ride, I was reading more of Wikipedia than the novel. And by the time I reached the Cafe, I was totally drowned in self-loathing. So much so that I spent the entire evening by myself, not even bothering to chat up with some of the familiar faces in the crowd.

At one point, I was feeling so miserable that I changed my source of reading from Wikipedia to NYT Science section. I felt more at home reading why glass isn't actually as solid but more like a liquid and why Santa can have his icy drink on the rock this year as well. For those who got confused, please go read the Science section of NYT. It's brilliant!

The actual concert was just an okay experience. There were big problems with the mixing of the sound and the fake accent of the singer from the band. Besides, I think I've lost the thrill of watching other bands play as I myself have been doing that regularly in the last few months. You know, that aura of a big stage and performance, something that I could not even hope a year back, has gone!

The only good thing that came out of all this is that I realized that I could acquire knowledge while living the kinky/fantasy of seducing the professor who would teach me. I meant, Vinokur! He's an expert in all such fields and he loves teaching. Fellas, it's a win-win situation!

The Vagina Monologues

When I bought the ticket for the famous play 'The Vagina Monologues' at Fame ADLABS a day before, I was thinking that I was sort of exaggerating my feelings towards it. This play which caught my attention about a couple of years or so back was something that I had wanted to see. My friends (straight ones) from the hospital saw it when it had first opened and thought of it as a fantastic play. That had made me jealous because I was the kind of person who would have seen such a play first and urged them to see it.

Today, as the skies leaked drearily for the fourth day in consecution, I found myself walking to a nearby multiplex for the third time in 5 days. For a broke person, this is luxury. I was wary about whom would come to see it. My fears came true when a bunch of bad smelling, straight office-going men (in their 30s) who had lame jokes and bad topics to talk about boarded the elevator with me. Suddenly, my '212 Sexy Men' perfume seemed inadequate and I was left feeling queasy. I was a bit relieved to see a lot of beautiful young women as well as other women at the screen entrance.

I had a seat at the front row and being poor finally seemed to make sense. Soon, five wonderful women, all very talented actors, came out in splendid attires of red and black, sat on high bar stools to lead us through an hour of wonderfully entertaining drama! I don't know their names and stuff. But everyone was charming. The eldest (looking) actress had this Vodafone helpline accent which, because of Vinokur, I have started to dislike. Whatever accents they chose to speak in seemed perfect for the narration. Otherwise, the tales of female happiness, pleasure, agony, excitement told through the 'mouths of vaginas' (Aargh, give me some Ipecac!; I'm just kidding) were simply a treat to the audience.

After the show, I waited in line behind a dozen of young women to write a comment on the book which was meant for the same. The one thing that came back to my mind to as I was collecting my thoughts to write on the book was this; The young woman sitting next to me (during the play), posh mini-skirt, high heels and all, was probably the only one amongst about 100 in the audience who hadn't raised her hand when one of the narrators asked us 'Who doesn't have a problem with saying the word 'vagina?' How ironic!

And here's what I wrote...
For a man who has had a lot of experiences with vaginas, but none in the sexual way, I was a bit skeptical about your play. It was simply a wonderful experience even for a gay man like me. After seeing your play, I feel that I understand the meaning of words 'liberation' and 'independence' better. Keep up the good work!

Dreams from a weirdo mind/brain - part 1

It must have been about six months back when Vinokur suggested that I record my dreams. It provides an insight into what’s going on inside the weirdo mind that I seem to have. Well, if not that, it should be interesting reading. I did not end up recording them. What I did though was to try and recreate the entire dream when I was with Vinokur. It was extremely interesting for us to do this. Some excerpts are posted below.
Thirst in the Desert

"I heard a cry. She must have been in extreme pain. I opened my eyes and looked around. My head was aching. Sand dunes were everywhere. I tried to get up but I failed. I remembered the thugs attacking us and taking us under their control. I don’t even remember what happened afterwards. What had happened to my sister and mother? It was hurting all over. Must have been the blows that they had given me. I tried to wriggle around from my position for a better vision. I saw my mother tied to a big metallic post in the middle of the desert. She was bruised, her clothes torn. She seemed to have been raped. ‘Give me some water… please’ cried my mother. I was ashamed of myself. I had failed yet again. I couldn’t save my mother from the enemies. Neither could I quench her thirst when in need. Why am I to live?"

This is probably my oldest dream. I used to have this dream in various versions when I had high fever. Since my mother and my sister were the only two persons who used to take care of me when I was sick, they are the only characters in this. I don’t know about the setting of the desert. I haven’t yet been to one and I don’t think that I have desert-o-phobia. I think the connection is the thirst that accompanies a bout of high fever.

This dream clearly underlines my childhood feeling of ineptitude and worthlessness. As curious as always, my Dad is not there in the dream. My sister is also someone who hardly ever makes it in any of my dreams. But she's here in here.

Shortcut to Happiness

I don’t know why I’m so interested in watching Hollywood flicks based in New York. People might have views on alleging that on my love to Vinokur who, by the way; I’m proud to admit this, is a New Yorker. It might also be that I’m in Mumbai which is almost like New York. I have attributed it also to the fact that almost all of the sitcoms, TV shows and superheroes have a predilection for the Big Apple. Whatever it is, I was lured into another movie viewing experience at a multiplex nearby while it was pouring.



The reason this time was nothing special. Just three three-fourths handsome men (Did you ever notice that the last two letters of ‘handsome’ are the first two letters of ‘men’? Thank you ladies and gentlemen! Actually, all this previous silly comment did it was to leave me feeling like the author of ‘Blogging for dummies’ or ‘Romance with English for Dummies’ or the male ‘Oprah Winfrey!) Ah yes, Monsieur Anthony Hopkins (who steals 3 points) and Alec Baldwin (takes the measly three-fourths) were there in this movie based in New York.

The rest of the cast is really immaterial for a twisted brain like mine. But the story is. Screenplay is. Direction is. And the bottom line is that all of it sucked. Not big time, but it still did. Just the fact that the Big Apple and the portrayal of the posh lifestyle of a ‘successful’ writer added some substance to the movie watching experience can’t take anything from the truth: Anthony Hopkins is red hot. Well, maybe a little overweight. But otherwise, just perfect. Wealth, honor, stature, wisdom, knowledge, mastery of language, humor, power, charm and all the other 3534 qualities that I usually find in an older man; everything encapsulated in a that brilliant man/character. I confess: I would do anything to get him into bed with me. Well anything but my soul really, cuz I can’t love Vinokur without it!



Oh by the way, the movie gets just 2 and half stars from me. 1.5 stars go to Sir Anthony!

Funniest ICL video ever

If you were wondering...

  • How I got money for the Kung Fu Panda movie...?: S got some money from his office. He returned me about 5% of the money that he owes me. That meant that I was able to pay the electricity bill and save up for about 20 more meals. I used up money for 2 meals during the movie.
  • What's happening to my studies...?: Nothing really. I don't have money to renew the Railway first class pass and I'm too lazy to travel in second class to the hospital library. Besides, I've been 'social networking'. On that note, I must tell you one epochal event. I have come out on Facebook, MySpace and Orkut in the past couple of days! Congrats to me!
  • What's happening to my band/recording...?: We have finished the recording bit. Now, mixing is going on. We have made the record label guys listen to the stuff and they love it. We are already drawing plans for narrowing down the singles and video concepts etc. The only thing is left to start gigging and let the money flow in!

Social networking craze

I think I mentioned somewhere that I had assigned my entire last weekend for getting back on the social networking glitz. First of all, you people must understand that when I keep something for some period of time, I normally end up getting so engrossed by it that it changes my entire lifestyle.

I am still social networking through MySpace, FaceBook and Orkut! It's been almost 6 days! It's fun and stuff. But it's kinda boring for people like one's boyfriend.

The last few days, we have been hanging out together. But there was hardly any conversation! I would keep myself busy by 'social networking' while poor Vinokur would try in vain to initalize a conversation. I guess it's a facet of my personality that he's never seen. And because we're husband and husband, he'll have to get used to it!

And by the way, the Music iLike plugin on MySpace is simply fabulous. It has a quiz on music. I scored more that 2,500 points at over 80% (correct answers) to become a Music Expert.

Kung Fu Panda

It's the middle of the monsoon season and yet, July had not seen too much of rain. If you remember, 3 years back, it had flooded on the 26th of July. As if someone had just reminded the weather goddess that she was forgetful and evil at the same time, it started raining yesterday night. It has carried on for most of today. This meant that I was grounded for most parts of the day.

Being grounded should have been fun. You know, I have a lot of stuff to do. Books, music, internet, tv etc. Despite all of this, I found a way to destroy the day by sleeping until noon. The only help that such an act of indiscretion led to was to save me the expense of a breakfast.

I heated up a cup of black coffee in the microwave and dived into the TOI. Nothing too interesting actually. The trust vote satire had given away to hollow promises of reforms and stuff. It took me hardly 7 minutes to reach the sports page and because of the encumbrance of rain at Colombo as well, even those pages didn't make me linger.

This meant that I was into Bombay Times way too early. There, I saw this preview for a very interesting movie. Anthony Hopkins and Alec Baldwin star in 'Shorcut to Happiness'. Now, that was releasing on Friday. A quick run-through of the movie possibilities (including Hellboy 2) in my mind led me to the conclusion that I should, under any circumstance, watch 'Kung Fu Panda', the only interesting movie that I had not yet watched.

To cut the long story short, I found myself walking to Fun Republic through a heavy drizzle in the evening. Although the 'crush'ing experience the last time that I had ventured to watch a movie had something to do with my present endeavor, it was not the only reason.



And the movie, as all animated movies go these days, was very good. 4 stars out of 5. The voice-overs were exceptional and the screen play was tickling-funny. Sometimes I feel that the animated movies, sort of, have to be good. I mean, they can't go wrong. First of all, you can't hope to get away with cheesy animation in an 'animated' movie. Therefore, shoddy direction, acting etc are dispensed with. Because people who make animations tend to be people who watch cartoons and stuff (and because of that, they are cleverer and interesting) they make interesting, funny stories.

Conclusion: you really can't go wrong in making an animation movie. Well almost. You will go wrong if you are in Bollywood and you want to make one!

My blog's worthlessness

You know something, I think my blog isn't worthy of this much of my attention. I do a lot of posting and commenting and criticism and other shit. I hardly get any comments and stuff. I have in fact changed my blog's header to a supposedly 'cute' picture and still no comments?

I actually did some research online to estimate how much my blog is worth. It came out to be some 560$ or something. That has at least temporarily saved my ego.

My blog is worth $564.54.


I'm still hurt. It will take some time to recover. You know, I'm an attention seeking, narcissistic arse. I need to be acknowledged and stuff.

The polls: the new ones

I had thought of a couple of interesting survey questions a week or so back and I had put them as polls. I have just two people contributing in. Why, what's wrong? Why aren't people judging me? And when I want you to judge me, I need everything to be positive of course!

Ray and May and Chuck

I think it's time for some updating about my friend's from Kerala.

Ray: I was startled to a coma when I read this message from Ray 'Hey what's up? I might get married soon. Talk to you later. Bye.'. The nerve! I mean, he stashes in such an epochal statement in between casual banter. I was at the studio when I received the message and I coudln't call him back. I did call him back today. Apparently, he needs a partner. And he is not happy with the 'male' partners that he has had. He, by the way, is a bisexual who hasn't had sex with a woman yet. So, he thinks that he might fit right into the straight marriage thingy. When I asked him if he's going to come out to the woman, hey said 'Not now. Sometime later.' I asked him when is sometime, he said 'A long, long time.' I don't know what to say. I can't force him. All I know is that I think it isn't fair for both him and his future wife.

May: May is the coolest woman ever. She finished her residency in Ahmedabad with ease. She's back with her parents for a little break in Bangalore. And the coolest part is that she's going to work in CMC Vellore as a senior resident in the department of Hemato-Oncology! How fucking cool is that? I am proud of her!

Chuck: Chuck is doing his multiple roled life to perfection. The perfect Dad, the perfect Son, the perfect Husband, the perfect Friend etc. He calls me up and says 'Look, I know you have failed your exams and stuff but you don't have to be so cool about that. You can call me up and talk to me. Anybody can fail exams. You just got lucky!' What can you say to that? Nothing! As always, he cheered me up and we talked about how fast his daughter is growing and stuff.

You know what I feel like? Blessed! Yes, because of the wonderfully weird set of friends that I have who care for me!

The crush

I had promised to write about that crush that had me done at the multiplex last friday. I had almost forgotten about it until I came across my own blog entry. Oh yes, I read MY OWN BLOG while commuting! I know it is narcissistic. But I kinda amuse myself by reading it. What's so wrong about it?

Scene shifts to the lounge of Sterling multiplex on a balmy Friday afternoon. I am hanging out there thinking as to how I can eat something without draining my wallet entirely. My poaching eyes roam almost robotically in such situations trying to find someone to prey on and this time I got real lucky. Well, almost. I see this 62 year old Mr. Lodge (from Archie's comics) replica without the spectacles. He was very very fair. So fair that his hands (the best attribute he had) reminded me of Vinokur's hands. He was trim without even the slightest sign of paunch. He was wearing a nice looking shirt and trouser pair which fitted him perfectly. It was not very fashionable stuff but perfect.

Let's dissect the face now. Classic handsomeness. A good head of grey hair combed backwards. Green eyes, trimmed moustache and a perfect set of teeth rounded up the appearance. Almost straight out of my fantasy gay fairy tale.

But the most defining aspect of him was his demeanor. He was charming in all the senses of the word. He talked with the cafeteria waiters with an encouraging tone, nodded and smiled when he received the order. Witth grace, he walked up to his wife and offered her a cup of hot chocolate. His wife was talking on the phone then. Soon, as the national anthem started inside the hall, as we got ready to get in, he gently urged his wife to hangup so that they could go in.

I was standing right behind this hot, hot Dad on the entrance to the hall. We all stood there until the national anthem finished. I saw him opening the door and graciously gesturing his wife in. I saw him greeting the ushers and talking to them about the fact that he and his wife needed a seat where his wife could stretch legs (she seemed to have a hip problem). He seemed to take everyone over with his charm. As I sat in my seat at the back, I saw the ushers smiling and chatting with him. I was very jealous of his wife then.

The Dark Knight stole most of my attention away in the first half of the movie. I had almost forgotten this guy when the intermission was announced. Suddenly I sensed an opportunity to meet up and talk with this guy. Who knows he might be interested in me. I watched his moves. Soon, I saw him take up the plastic cup of hot chocolate with him on his way out. That impressed me again. He didn't like to litter! I thought I could meet him in the lobby again and maybe strike up a conversation. I bolted down the aisle to grab the opportunity.

I was totally stumped when I met him at the door instead. He was coming in and I was going out. He had opened the door and we locked to each others eyes. Strangely he said 'Thank you!' and smiled. I melted again! What a smile! I actually couldn't manage to say anything because of the situation. I felt like a fool as I went outside and watched him get back in. I lingered around for a few seconds and entered the hall again. I looked into his eyes as I went past. He returned the stare with another one of the 1000 watt smiles.

By this time, his wife was getting curious. I heard/saw him gesturing about why he was smiling to me and stuff. Whoa, the whole package seemed so attractive to me that I wasn't able to concentrate on the rest of the movie. I was thinking of how to meet the couple again and say things like 'You know, I was the one who should have thanked you because you had opened the door for me. Thank you! What's your phone number?' I badly wanted to meet the couple after the movie and at least say something like 'I know it's weird, but I couldn't help but comment on the fact that you look like a beautiful couple! Especially, you sir!'

But that moment never arrived. I wasn't close enough to them or alone with them to allow for such comments. As I saw the couple ride back home in their scooter, I felt like I had missed out on a great experience!

Now the coolest part of all this is that, just like how I had chased my last Dad, Vinokur was the first person to know all that. I love the way we can be open about our crushes and stuff!

Noise Market blog

I've updated the Noise Market blog yesterday. Maybe you could take a look at it and comment. I would also appreciate if you could sort of put link it up with your blogs or webpages or whatever. If you plan to do so, please use the real name as I can't use it for obvious reasons of privacy here.

Another thing, if you could give me some insightful incisive criticism about he Noise Market MySpace page, it would be of great help.

Thank You!

It's weird, but I do it again!

Lazy Friday morning. I am woken up again by the pseudo-janitors of the building knocking on my door. I get up in my underwear, the weird checkered cheap trunks that I decided to wear, saunter up to the door, open the door and say with a sheepish smile, as I've been for the past four days, 'Hey, no trash today.' They nod understandingly. I close the door and in a superhuman effort star slumping to the bed at an impossible angle curving across a small dividing wall. In even superer-human effort I catch myself mid-slump and remember that I get the newspaper from the door when I had opened. I open the door again and I catch the janitors smiling endearingly at me. One of them seemed to have been eyeing my crotch. But he ain't hot, so I don't pursue it. I pick up the paper and close the door again. I start to realize that they realize that I'm actually a guy without anything much to do in life.

The perennial coffee mug is filled with coffee and pushed into the microwave oven. I turn on the TV and whilst watching CNN-IBN I start going through the Bombay Times. Now does anybody believe in god and stuff? Check it out, out of no logical reason whatever, I was reading Bombay Times on a Friday morning. God is there and she's smiling broadly on humanity! I took out the cup of coffee start sipping coffee and am caught mid-sip by the inviting combo of movies; Hancock, The Dark Night and Kung Fu Panda. The movie mania kicks right in. I feel the urge to watch a lot of movies and I frantically search for the timings. As in the last time, I decide to go for a cheap show in a nearby multiplex to start the proceedings.

I hurry up, take a shower and rush to Fun Republic, the nearest multiplex. A fat and ugly man behind the glass counter tells me in a fake Indian accent 'Sir, we have cancelled the show. There aren't any people to watch it.' I get irate. I start arguing with the guy reasoning that it was not fair and that they shouldn't advertise timings on the newspaper if they were to cancel shows. It gets pointless when the ugly and fat guy starts bickering and I start pushing the points about how disparately money is distributed in the world. I walk out of the multiplex irritated thinking that maybe I should go to the library instead.

Let's get the facts straight. I had 44 rupees on the wallet excepting change for the bus trips. I had another 101 Rs. in my bank account and a credit card to buy tickets with. I have breakfast a roadside dhabba just at my bus-stop where a ruggedly beautiful Tamil couple served wayfarers with tasty dosas and chutney/sambar combo. I spend 17 rupees there. I get on a bus and head to the railway station where I get into a Churchgate bound slow train.

There I get spunky again. I go through the timings again, this time eyeing the sequence at Sterling multiplex. I find the three movies slotted one after the other and I start loving myself once again. I decide to sleep through the journey listening to wonderful songs by Angels and Airwaves &The Raconteurs. I walk up the beautiful roads in South Mumbai and reach the multiplex. I’m flummoxed for the second time in the day as I find out that the timings given on the newspaper are different from the actual ones. I quickly decide to watch three movies once again. But this was at the risk of watching a corny Hindi movie between the two Hollywood blockbusters.

I pay for the tickets with my credit card. I’m happy once again. I walk into the cafeteria and I need something to drink. I give into a medium serving of Fountain Pepsi which made me lighter by 35 Rs. I start reading wiki articles on the first movie ‘The Dark Knight’. I’m thrilled to note that the plot is complex and that the movie is critically acclaimed. Bravo and I virtually pat by back.

  • The Dark Knight – 3 – 3.5 stars (only!): You know, I must admit that I was never as much a fan of Batman as compared to the Marvel group of super humans. I don’t know why but the movie showered me with reasons. So, the movie is fast paced with great screen play and brilliant action sequences. Heath Ledger’s performance is brilliant. The story line is also complex. So why didn’t I like the movie?



    First of all, The Batman character in the movie is dumb; he’s got this unnaturally monotonic mock-husky-baritone voice which deprives it of any emotional variability. He’s got a fucken suit which prevents him to turn his neck around. Now, for those who are really new to fighting and stuff, even in the Kingdom Animalia, one of the primary requirements is neck movement. Why would such a super-intelligent super-hero make a suit which forced him to be having a severe spondylotic cervical spine? Isn’t that dumb or what? The coolest thing about the movie is that they admit that it’s a dumb thing and try and improve the suit during the course of the movie.

    Another thing that I noticed; Batman doesn’t have guns with him almost in the entire movie. Yet, he manages to outfight militia and gangs with loads of guns and bullets firing against them. Can’t people get more logical? Does it really take a huge toll on the grey matter?

    The legendary Heath Ledger’s role in the movie is an Oscar-worthy performance. That’s one more reason why Batman and the co-characters in the movie look so stupid and inept. I mean it’s almost like mix-mis-match of a five-star movie when ‘the Clown’ is in da house baby and a 2 star action flick when he’s not around.

    I bought a coffee and a pair of samosas in the interval. That cost me 55 Rupees.

  • Kismet Konnection - 2 stars: When you start of badly, you don’t really hope that things would get better. So it didn’t. I wanted to watch the movie not just as filler. Vidya Balan, the heroine in the movie, was quoted to be one of JD’s favorite actresses on the radio show that we had. Besides, she was spotted walking in on of the aisles by JD’s side (about 2 meters of air separating them with Balan didn’t acknowledging JD’s presence in her environs) in the studio the other day.




    I don’t think I need to substantiate why the movie was bad. Bad characters, bad actors, bad screen play, bad songs … the list is endless. But there is something that I noticed after carefully listening to the audience in the movie.

    • Vidya Balan had a bigger biceps than Shahid Kapoor. That’s no mean fact. If you walk across any street in Mumbai, you will see Shahid Kapoor holding the brassy muscular hunk pose where he displays his arm muscles.
    • Shahid Kapoor had more cleavage that Vidya Balan. That’s also no mean feat thinking that Shahid Kapoor is just an average hunk and Vidya Balan is hot middle aged territory.
    • Vidya Balan and Shahid Kapoor were exchanging wardrobes. I mean, you must see the movie to realize this.

    I have to admit that Vidya Balan is overweight (I’m going really easy on words here). You know, I thought after seeing her Airtel ads with Madhavan that she had a charming smile and a warm personality on screen. Yes she has these qualities. But only in 57 seconds in the entire 2 hour long movie. You know, I think that she should opt for roles like ‘The average next door middle aged single/married woman who has an affair with an adolescent or two.’

    Shahid Kapoor in my mind should stick to ‘Jab We Met’. He could also use a hair cut and gain some height by undergoing some Ilizarov external fixators. It would be even better if he could get role with those. We could easily eliminate the fixators from screens and the pain provided by them would add a trifle of expressions on his placid face.

  • Hancock - 3.5 stars: Will Smith's funny one liners, sarcastic screen play and the concept are interesting in this movie. I think this movie is underrated. The concept of gods/angels/superheroes being amongst us leading a normal life is enthralling. If only they could come up with a better reason why they can't mate! This movie could have done much better if it had left the superwoman tale untold! Not to mention the dreary last 15 minutes of action.



    The most interesting part of the movie wasn't the movie. But I had this huge crush of a handsome older man who was watching the movie along with his ailing wife. He was so fucking charming that I couldn't but think about him through the entire second half of the movie. I need to post about him in a separate post.

    I grabbed a burger during the interval of the movie which cost me 35 Rs.

I was just left with one rupee in my account and change for the bus trips after this misadventure. Very, very reassuring!

After this movie mania and a kind a broken heart, I returned home to Vinokur to tell him all about the crush. This is the best part of our relationship. We can be so open with each other about our crushes and emotions!

I love my Vinokur!

I suck!

About a week back, when I and JD went out to St. Xavier's college for a seminar representing our band ie. people who have migrated from regular careers to alternate careers, someone in the crowd asked us to sing a song or two. Since JD had a sore throat, he declined the invite. But without missing a beat, he asked me to sing. As a self-deprecatory confession I had said and I quote 'You really wouldn't want to hear me sing. I sing like a croaking frog!'. A couple of people in the crowd thought that it was funny and chuckled.

Today at the studios, believe it or not, I actually sang like a croaking frog. It was the first time ever in studios on a professional condenser mic and stuff. I 'oohs' and 'aahs' like a big fat black singer in almost all the songs on the record. I tried singing for a four songs or so. In the supposedly easiest song of the lot, I fucked up like a moronic nincompoop. I was supposed to sing a couple of notes in falsetto and believe me, I sang almost all the notes of a fucken chromatic scale!

The sadder part is that I didn't realize it when I sang and my band mates, in an effort to 'protect my ego', didn't tell me that I sucked. I was disappointed to hear my recording. When I asked why I wasn't told about this while I was singing my heart out someone had to say 'Look, you very really bad. We thought you couldn't improve. It would have taken many, many more hours and we can't afford that!'

Fair! Why can't people say that I had fucked up so that I could try and improve in the first place?

The rift

A couple of years or so, this title would have suggested the obvious- a young gay male trying to separate himself from his family. But now, I’m talking about something else, which very well might be the starting point of something serious. It’s about me and my band ‘Noise Market’. Yeah, over the past weeks, things have certainly started to look as if my ideas are not fitting into the band's ideology. Slowly but surely, my ideas are becoming the pain in the calves of the band which is galloping towards fame.

In my various sessions with Vinokur, the only advice that he has to offer is that if your ideas and suggestions don’t seem to have any productive cause, don’t vocalize them. That seems utopian. I mean, I would have loved to have such self-control and an hurt-proof mind to indulge in that. But hey, I’m passionate about music. I’m very particular about what happens to songs and stuff.

I don’t want to sit quiet and let the rest of the band take the music away to such a place where I’ll resent being a part of the band. At the same time, I also don’t want to be feeling that I haven’t contributed something well within my capacities to make them sound even better. How do I strike the balance?

I guess such creativity issues are part of all healthy bands and would help to make something better than otherwise.

The Geek Test

I'm glad that at least I fare good in this test!

50% Geek

Created by OnePlusYou

The India Vs. USA health scenario

Having talked about Vinokur’s serious health condition, it’s appropriate sardonically, to talk about my niggling occupational injury. Because of my excessively aggressive playing on a new, relatively difficult bass guitar, I have injured the long flexor tendons of my left little finger. It has been hurting for a couple of days or so but it got aggravated yesterday. I myself was able to diagnose the condition. But I wanted to get it checked out my one of our brilliant Orthopods in the hospital.

I did get it checked out and the verdict was the same. Tendinitis of the Lt. Little finger. I’m on anti-inflammatory drugs and ultrasound therapy and am off playing the bass guitar for a week or so.

The contrast! I had a totally neglectable finger injury which was diagnosed and treatment started in less than a day. Vinokur has a life threatening clinical condition which is not yet diagnosed for more than 2 months.

Is India better than the USA or what?

Back to the libary

It seems precocious to everyone. The fact that I’m happy and cool about failing the exam adds to the weirdness. But it’s true, I’m back to the library from the next day after submitting the examination forms for the re-exam. I feel that now, when we are going through this phase of relative lack of necessity of Kris at the recording studio, I should ‘kick-start’ my studies.

Indeed, I did ‘kick-start’ my studies. It went well as well. I’m reading some paediatric Orthopaedics of a book authored by Tachdjian. It is fun to read when there is no deadlines and pressure. Ideally, I should have passed my exams as well. Then it would have been even more rebellious.

Honestly, I would like to put in as many hours as I can to studies when I get those hours because I know that in the coming months, with the hectic schedule of the album, videos etc I will be getting less and less of time to study, forget the peace of mind. To top things off, the album schedule coincides with my exam dates! Cool, ain’t it?

Queer Azaadi

Mumbai, the queen of all cities, decided to not take part in the pride marches held across the country about a couple of weeks back. Why? Because we wanted it to be more special. That’s the reason our very own pride march is going to be on the 16th of August this year.

Our team of activists have united and created a blog for this. It’s called Queer Azaadi. Go check it out and give us support in whichever way you can.

I’m very upbeat about this because it’s the first time that I am getting a chance to become an activist. The other day, I was talking to my sister about the march and the chances of me coming on television and the press. She was almost annoyed. She went on to saying that she didn’t think that we didn’t have the rights to fight for our rights?

Cool, ain’t it? I mean, defending my sister here, I don’t think that she didn’t mean to say what she said. But at the same time I hope that when she sees me in one of the press articles (if I come on them, that is) in a good light, she’ll change!

Vinokur's health

These days, when I meet those people who know that I’m gay and I am in a relationship, ask me ‘How are things going on with Vinokur?’ It’s almost as if the rest of my life is so painful due to finances and results that I have to be reminded of something nice. And I say to those kind, understanding tones in my kind tone ‘He’s much better. He’s improving. Now that the exams require me to stay back in India, we are planning to meet up once more in India.’

Actuality is different. Vinokur isn’t getting better. He has a lot more problems that before. He’s got extreme degree of what I diagnose as Cervical spondylosis and have neuropathic features in both his upper limbs. Such features are so severe that he is gradually losing his motor power.

The sad fact is that despite me urging him to see an Orthopod, nothing ever seems to happen. Things are so fucked up in the US health scenario that a person like Vinokur finds it daunting to go for such a check up. Let’s not just blame Uncle Sam, but even Vinokur is at fault. He’s not motivated enough to see someone because of the ‘waiting’ and ‘bureaucracy’ and ‘insurance issues’ involved.

Come on! Give me a break! Somebody is getting paralysed and nothing is happening! That can’t go on! Simply can’t!

Finally, I managed a breakthrough by forcing Vinokur to seek an appointment with an Orthnopod. The appointment is not until next Monday.

You know, sometimes I feel powerless sitting in my chair, blogging about things from Mumbai; a few oceans, sharks and mountains away from the love of my life. I’m an Orthopaedic surgeon in the making and I can’t have any effect on my lover’s Orthopaedics health just because of the non-proximity.

I at least hope that Sahaab, who, by the way, has already started his residency in Brooklynn, NY would take care of this issue in the future!

After all, I and Vinokur have to live happily ever after, haven’t we?

Livin' on a Credit Card

This month, after paying off the minimum amount allowed for the bills (credit card, mobile phone), I have just 300 odd rupees left in by bank. For all my shopping, grocery requirements, I am using my credit card now. And I’m not eating out other than when absolutely necessary. The food at the studios goes to the tab of studio expenses which we don’t have to pay for out of our pockets right now. That works to my advantage.

Otherwise, the commuting in the buses and the occasional snack at the canteen is what causes me to drain my money.

The looming darkness of the future is damning. What the fuck do I do about internet, cable and next month’s bills. Unless the record labels steps up and fulfills the promises that were stated at the time of the signing of the contract, I am going to be in tatters!

Kris Bass, M. B. B. S., M. S. Ortho (failed) Mumbai

It’s been a couple of months almost since my exams got over and the results weren’t out yet! Seems incredibly unbelievable, but it was true. Well, until today morning. I got a call from one of my college mates asking me if I was in Mumbai. I said yes. He said that ‘all of us’ needed to give the exam application forms again. I aksed him why? He said, we simply have to give again.

Then it dawned on me to ask him if the results had come. He said yes. He also said the aforementioned ‘us’ (inclusive of me and him and 5 other students; ie. 7 out of 11 students) had failed the exams and needed to give the exams again in November. I didn’t flinch, I didn’t have a single tear running down my right cheek. Nope! I was cool, calm and composed and I talked him out of his depression. I told him to chill it! We made a date to meet tomorrow at the college to fill in the form etc.

After I hung up, I called my folks and my sister. I broke the news to them. My Dad flinched on the phone. Yeah, I was almost proud to have been the reason for his astrological predictions fall apart. My Mom was sad and hopeful. My sister was supportive. I called the guys who had cleared the exam who just had M. S. Ortho tagged to their names forever. They were in a state of depression/shock as well because of the amazing 75% failure rate. I told them to chill it and enjoy the moment; the moment of success, the moment of glory, something that I have cherished wildly after my success stories in my previous exams!

On the friggin' brighter side, I topped a couple of papers on the theory side! And to think of the fact that I had NOT prepared at all!

The Rolling Stone interview

I have always been a fan of glossy magazines. Especially when they seem to portray the life and livings of rock stars and musicians like fairy tales. What could beat Rolling Stone to that? And thereby, I confess that I have always dreamed of appearing on the Rolling Stone. But I hadn’t given it a realistic dream. It was just out there somewhere stashed away amongst my dreams of flying on a spacecraft to find alien-kind etc.

A few days before, when we were lounging in the Rob’s apartment with cups of tea and Tiger biscuits, Joy got a phone call from a reporter in the Rolling Stone magazine. Apparently they wanted to do an article on us. Wow, we said in unison!

The interview happened a copule of days back on a dark cloudy evening over nothing (I really mean nothing. We couldn't afford anything)in a fly-infested outdoor café at Dadar. I was wearing one of the corny combinations of shirts and trousers that Sahaab had left me with after deciding to give his spare clothes to me instead of the maid that came to clean our hostel room. The interviewer was rather point-to-point, pushy and had a very small accommodating reflex for corny, cheesy sense of humor.

She asked us about the regular stuff; our inspirations, our roots, our music and why our music sounds like this etc? We found it difficult to answer as to why we claim to be alternative rock but we sound more like folk. I guess our versions of songs on the My Space page and the band blog don’t really sample our entire span of music. Can’t blame her for being left in the void regarding this alternative vs. folk question!

Anyway, this interview is going to appear on the August edition of the Rolling Stone magazine! Please, buy a copy and send it to me. Honestly, I can’t afford to buy one!

Recording starts

It is unreal, folks. I was pinching myself when I was walking up the staircase which led to the little dining area after a recording session – ‘Boy, am I really living this dream’. We are actually! We are recording our first album in one of the best studios in Mumbai. We have been blessed to have one of the best audio engineers/producers that the industry has and working with him has been a pleasure.

However, we have all had our personal disasters. I had this tragedy of my 2 year old Ibanez five string bass giving up on me on the first day at the studios. It was showing signs of cramping up but we didn’t expect it to do so on this auspicious occasion. What that resulted in was a few hours of uncertainty which ended up in a pleasant surprise as the music shop that’s helping us with the gear gave me a brand new Warwick (starter series) bass to record with! Now, this bass on my new amp/cabinet combo sounds brilliant! It’s a little diffiult to play as it is not player-tuned yet. Even so!

Even others have issues. Rob’s new Taylor acoustic guitar also seems to have an ‘action’ problem. On top of that, Rob has relapsing pain/numbness on the left hand which keeps him tied down. Dash has a fulminant (not that fulminant) lower respiratory tract infection which is making him not attend the sessions.

All in all, the recording, despite these little setback is going to plan. We’re sounding real good! I hope this CD will earn us critical and public appraisal.

Twisted relationships

This post should have been at a much earlier date. I couldn't get around to typing it in then. So, I'm posting it right here. Enjoy it!


Three weeks back or so, I met this interesting guy on SilverDaddies.com where I had met Vinokur. If you are wondering why I’m looking for men (who are looking for sex/relationship etc), even I don’t know. I guess I’m looking for an acquaintance/friendship of a man so that I could hang out in gay parties and movies with that person. Obviously, the qualities in the person that I was in hunt were that he must be intelligent, funny, pleasant to hangout with and who is not interested in sex/relationship. Handsomeness, class and wealth are bonuses.

Jay, the person who had replied to one of my ‘Are you interested in getting laid with me?’ e-mails sent months back, looked interesting. First of all, he didn’t have a profile photo. Now, you all must have had experiences is judging men (and women for that matter) with one of those mug shots. We fantasize the whole package with that single photo to that extent that we decide if we want to be with that person for our entire life. What? Did I hear a ‘Duuh, that’s YOU, not us Kris?’ I know! I judged Vinokur with that single photograph on his profile which I and he are thankful for.

Anyway, the lack of a picture added mystery to the otherwise bland profile. The profile text was also scanty. I replied to him saying that I would love to see his picture and get to know more about him. He replied back and in a couple of messages we were following the usual way to SilverDaddies.com to Yahoo.com video chat.

Soon as we started chatting, I got a measure of this person. Jay seemed to be intelligent and funny and he seemed to be fast in his retorts and stuff. I was craving for a picture by then and because he wasn’t alone at home (his kids and family were with him), I just got a glance of him. Again, the cheapness of the webcam and the inadequate lighting must have given his torso a certain uplifting effect. I had turned my webcam on for a few more minutes until Vinokur showed up.

The initial ‘Jay, I must stop chatting with you. Vinokur is online. Bye.’ gave me a hint as to how much of ego that I’m dealing with. He didn’t react to that well. In fact I think there was even a sarcastic remark about how I’ll ‘get over this’ in a few months time. Whatever, both of us were interested enough and curious in each other which demanded exchange of phone numbers.

The next day we were talking on the phone. The voice at the other end was powerful, defiant and when added to the speed of wit and actual wit, I was officially interested in Jay.

At that point ‘Noise Market’ was really pissed off searching for some rehearsal rooms for the final touches on our record songs. Since Jay was wan architect, he seemed to be a logical extension to our search for out-of-town places. In a couple of days Jay had come up with this exotic semi-finished cottage on top of a hill in the outskirts of Mumbai; right in the middle of the Sanjay Gandhi National park.

Since we were desperate for a place I had to give in to the very suspicious invitation by Jay. Jay wanted me to come alone so that I could check the place out. I was a little apprehensive. But again, you have got to have guts when you are 18! Hell, I’m a decade older! I said yes after consulting with my band mates and I set out on this lonely trip to this place.

I was supposed to meet Jay in front of the McDonald’s restaurant outside the railway station. It was cloudy and threatening for a downpour then. I gave him a ring on his mobile phone and he said that he’d be there in a few minutes. I spent the time waiting for him men spotting. I almost fainted when I saw this perfection of a bearish middle aged Dad come and stop in front of McDonalds. But as history repeats itself, all such people get hooked on to the subspecies with extra mammary tissue. In this case, he picked up his wife or mistress or somebody and drove away.

Finally Jay arrived. He looked ordinary. Just tall and great skin condition. Otherwise, a regular middle aged man. He was dressed in a half sleeved shirt and pair of cotton trousers and was riding a scooter. Nothing sophisticated. And most importantly, no seductive chemical components were detectable on initial examination by my nares.

It started drizzling and we started talking; literally shouting to each other over traffic and rain etc. Everything was smooth. No artificiality here. Alls well here, I thought. We rode up the curvy path to the top of the hill (a scenic experience). We reached the cottage which was designed by Jay actually. His client had run out of funds in the middle of the phase of construction apparently.

The place seemed incredible. The calm, the isolation, the serenity; everything tailor-made for artists wanting to do some creative work. But the cottage had the problem of rain-water seeping through the damaged plastic covering over the tiles on the roof. I wasn’t really sure about that aspect as we had equipment worth lakhs of rupees. After visiting, we discussed the prices which seemed a fair deal for me.

On the way back, Jay wanted to have a couple of drinks with me. I reluctantly agreed not wanting to upset a friend who had so graciously shown us a place. At the only restaurant bar in the place, we had whisky and soda. It was the first time that I was having alcohol in any form in four months or something.

The conversation got further lubricated to the extent we were discussing each others lives, choices and gay issues. As in the biochemistry experiments that all medical students have to perform during their schooling days where the colored ring slowly forms and becomes starkly clear at the end of the experiment, Jay’s personality stood naked out there; egotistic without the conceit, driven, pushy, defiant and at times having an extremely narrow point of view. Then he started commenting on my life. It is then, that I understood that there was this element of jealousy/envy in the mixture as well. As in the chat conversation he tried to underplay the relationship that I had with Vinokur as a ‘passing phase’ which I would successfully come out and focus on my ‘career’.

I wasn’t really sure as to why a man who is not interested in sex with me (for that matter, he really wasn’t really interested in sex with men), would want to try and manipulate. If the last part got you confusing, the truth is that Jay is a bisexual tending towards straight. His only experiences in homo-sex came in adolescence.

After the conversation, he invited me over to his little office in the town where we sat and discussed issues. I actually made him hear the songs that I had from our band through my phone speaker. Clearly, he wasn’t paying attention. I thought he was getting a little tipsy. I thought of calling it a day and going back. I must have said something like ‘Look Jay, I think I need to go back home.’ He must have asked me why. I must have said ‘I have to talk to my husband, Vinokur’.

That certainly triggered the threshold button of his veiled jealousy. He started acting pushier than ever. To the extent that he started questioning my strength of defiance which he thought was underexercized via a vis the relationship with Vinokur. Obviously, I wasn’t amused. I wasn’t impressed as well. After a few minutes of this edgy nervous conversation, he suddenly jumped up from his reclining chair, shut the front door, went inside the bathroom to rinse his mouth and came back to give me this forced mouth-to-mouth kiss which lasted for a dreary 10 seconds. No tongues involved.

After that he must have felt better as he said ‘At least that will give you the ‘strength’ not to talk to Vinokur tonight. I felt weird and despite being pissed, I acted as if nothing had happened. That guy was half drunk. Soon enough, I managed to maneuver my way out of his office and he dropped me to the bus stop.

As I watched him ride back home to his family, I was wondering at what had happened and why whilst being thankful and grateful for his efforts to show my needy band a prospective place to practice.

The day after, we (as a band) checked out the place. We decided against it. Jay came in late to visit at the cottage. It was clearly perceptible that I and Jay were trying to distance each other.

Since then, I and Jay have had a few brief conversations in Yahoo chat. He always wants me to be on cam with him. I cannot obviously; technically because I’m always on Skype cam with Vinokur. Jay has a lot of trouble getting used to my answers ‘Sorry Jay, I’m already on video with Vinokur’. He in fact even suspects that I’m lying.

I mean, how weird are relationships?

The GB trek to Sudhagad

Despite my band mates objecting to me going for a trek, citing a 'potentially risky endeavour which could result in injury which might hamper the recording sessions', I went for it. In fact, the first reaction that I had got about a few weeks back when I suggested this idea of the trek was so agressive 'C'mon, you aren't going for a GB TREK on the day before we hit the studio' that I was scared to tell them that I had actually signed up for it. Most of last week, I spent minutes contemplating the reaction of my band mates to my decision and thereby banning me from attending it to the financial loss of 650 Rs. (for registration) if I actually managed to skip the trek.

So, I got up very early (didn't sleep well at all). I climbed on the bus with a few of my GB acquaintances. During the entire trip to the hill station about 200 km off of Mumbai, I felt like I was with wrong company. It must have been tiredness and sleeplessness. It also must have been the sense of doing something that you suspect your band mates might use to back up their claims for my non-commitance to the band. Anyway, I settled on a window seat with a pile of Sunday newspapers and started reading them. In a few minutes I fell asleep and didn't wake up until we reached the destination. That, despite the ruckus of 'antaaksharis' and other frivolous fun activities going on with the very 'gay' GB members. That also had reminded me of the painfully boring trips that I had to undertake with my family and relatives during my childhood, adolescence and my young adult life. Almost similar levels of indifferent, thoughtless behaviour from the company I felt.

Things changed to good to great to incredible once the actual trek started. It was a hard climb, even for me, with the altitude depriving us of oxygen. The acquaintances had suddenly changed from intimidating to welcoming. The antecedent insomnia was the culprit cause for this particular delusion. The wonderful camera that Vinokur had gifted me strapped on my neck gave me the excuse to be alone and to spend time shooting nature. Although I wanted to take pictures of the landscapes, the solitude was also a way of escaping unwelcome conversations and potential 'hit-on's. Only a few people knew that I was 'settled' with this Gora Dad. To the others with their aquiline eyes, I must have been a handsome sitting duckling - maybe on the thinner side.

The climb up the slippery stony path bordering gorgeous gorges was really draining - both physically and emotionally. But I managed to take close to 300 photographs, all of which will be available for you at the end of this post. I fiddled around a lot with the camera and my 'framing' options, as I had a plentitude to choose from. Once on top of the hill I even managed to take a nap on a dry stone. Laying there looking at the dark cloudy sky blending almost imperceptibly into wonderful mountains and cliffs and drifting away to sleep, it felt like I was somewhere in New Zealand, in the past, a silly helper on the set of the 'Lord of the Rings' trilogy.

After having a half-cooked (in all senses of the word) lunch, we climbed down. Contradictory to expectations widely expressed amongst the group, we had an easy climb down. To add to it, the view had gotten better as we were facing the valley while coming down. This time, I could not manage to isolate myself from the group. That led to the uncomfortable situation; vide supra.

The ride back was hilarious. What could you expect when a gang of extremely excitable gays play 'Truth or Dare?' The truths were all about kinky, raunchy bed-time secrets to seductions. The dares were all about exchanging sweets between oral cavities and kissing and licking someone elses something. I was playing this game for the first time and I chose 'truths' always and ended up revealing my professional pre-seductions.

During the ride, I got a call from my guitar player. As usual, I was scared to even answer because of my inherent feeling of impending unhappiness with regard to something that I did/was doing which has/will/shall affect the band deleteriously. It turned out to be just a casual 'What's up?' call.

Why am I thinking like this? Why do I feel less confident about things? Why do I feel that I'm diverging away from the ideologies of my band and its members?

And the links to the photos

PS: Vinokur wants me to put up a poll in here asking you readers to rate me on a handsomeness scale of 1 to 50 as compared to the others in the trek; 1 being the best and 50 being the worst. It looks narcissistic and stuff, but he's my lover. I have to do this for him. :-)

Bankruptcy post

Today, after I paid my internet bill for the month, I looked inside my wallet and found five 10 rupee notes. I had to shop for some groceries and I walked into the Reliance Fresh outlet nearby. I was very, very choosy. I wanted something interesting to eat. But I was sure that it's not affordable. I bought stuff worth rupees 200 (exactly) (couple of cartons of milks, dosa batter etc, a spray to kill houseflies etc). I paid it off my debit card.

I was walking out of the store when I received a beep on my mobile phone. I looked it up and it was from my bank. And it was scary. I just had a few hundred rupees more to spend after deducting the rent payment coming up mid-month. What am I going to do?

I have to pay my mobile phone bill and credit card bill before the middle of the month. And if the money from my record label doesn't materialize, I'm going to be in deep shit.

Again, this sad epiphany sort of drowns the superlative rehearsal session that we had in the morning. It also takes the cheer out of our upcoming interview with the Rolling Stone magazine. It even takes the cheer out of the fact that tomorrow is the first anniversary of my relationship with Vinokur.

As a last ditch attempt, I'm posting a picture that brought joy to my life late in the evening India time. I love him!

Highs and lows

I'm pretty pissed. This is despite having had a good start to the day in the form of a great work out session at the gym and a meeting with our audio engineer which went pretty well.

The good news was easily overshadowed by the realisation of impending poverty and desperation in the evening. The money from our music is so not assured that depending on that to make ends meet is foolish. To not have realized that earlier is foolisher.

The bitterness was a briefly alleviated by a couple of very fair and handsome Dads who I saw on the bus station. My almost irrational attraction towards men who have extremely mani/pedicured hands/feet came to the fore. I imply Vinokur for this bias. Now, you know, I seem to have the view that such men are intelligent, wise and wealthy. Crazy, isn't it? The other day I was bashing my family and brethren from South saying that the matrimonial ads for a fair beautiful bride was baseless and racist!

But the low blow came in the form of Gay-O-Meter again! For the second consecutive day, it does me in!

I asked Vinokur to take the questionnaire. He did. Vicariously of course! (I selected the choices after reading the questions to him on Skypoe; ADD people work this way best!)

He got a fucking 53%!

Come on, I always thought that I was at least as gay as him. Now what the fuck should I do? Vinokur says I should get a French poodle or something.

Gay-O-Meter

I was going through the technorati page for my blog and I noticed I hardly have anybody who has a link to my blog. There were just three blogs which had my blog listed on them. I was checking out what kinda stuff they had and I stumbled on this link which tested the gayness of any person.

Believe it or not, I came up with a paltry 33% which is 'too-straight'!

Should I be happy or unhappy?

The hand and the ring

I just cannot get my eyes off this photo. Part of that is not becuase of the ring, but because of my infatuation for hands. Vinokur, by the way, has perfect hands!

It's happening!

I just read about this on the GayBombay yahoo group. A couple of days before, in the Bandra GB Sunday meet, someone jokingly said that the Section 377 was seeing its last days. Maybe it's not a joke anymore. Check out what the Prime Minister of India and a senior minister from the Indian cabinet had to say during a press conference.
"This calls for support for minority communities affected by HIV/AIDS, including homosexuals, and says that legal barriers that prevent services reaching them should go." - Dr. Manmohan Singh, Prime Minister of India

"Section 377 needs to go. This is something we really need to move forward on." - Minister of State Oscar Fernandes

Maybe, just maybe, AV and I can be safely settled in India in the future!

Engayging Life has moved to WordPress

Engayging Life has fully moved to WordPress

Yes, I am alive and I'm still blogging. Regularly. But on WordPress because offers an easier workflow for me. Here is a selection of wh...