Engayging Life

I wrote in my last blog post that my recent trip to the United States of America has changed my perspective about life. I have become a disenchanted Indian.

So apparently I have transformed into a stereotypical Indian who is disenchanted with life in India after visiting the US of A.

— Krishna Kumar V. (@krishna_kumar_v) May 27, 2015

What I mean by the that is that the way things are done in India, especially in Mumbai, don't particularly make sense. Unfortunately, these things universally involve people: people being uncooperative, people yelling at each other, people letting their kids to annoy other people, people not respective personal space, people talking louder than what's necessary.

Sure, when you aren't exposed to this year round, these will seem charming--they become a part of the India experience. That's what movies like Slumdog Millionaire and The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel do to you. Like allergens, anything unacceptable can be tolerated at low doses of exposure.

My close friend Rich, who loves this limited-exposure to India pointed this out. He thinks that Indian New channels, with 5 tickers, 10 people shouting at each other seemingly always, and the assault of colors on our retinae, are able to sufficiently encapsulate this phenomenon. I agree with him.

So the trip hasn't changed my opinion about the reasons underlying this public immorality. I still think people behave they way they behave because they were forced because of other people behaving a certain way. A closed loop, you see. So, technically, you can't blame them. They do what they have learned in their life and they probably haven't exposed to anything different.

What has changed, however, is that, before the trip, I thought that I had to adjust to it and remain relatively unperturbed. You couldn't do much, you see. You need to expose yourself to it if you want to experience life and not live as a hermit.

Now I think it is different. I feel that I'm being unkind and inconsiderate to myself by consciously exposing myself to this and bring the quality of my life down. Yes, I know that I will probably have less of a social life if I follow the strategy. But what I will have left will be more worth the trouble.

But what am I doing to change it? I will communicate my resentment more regularly. Here, I just wrote about it. Yesterday, on my way bag from a weekend at J's home across the bay, I had a conversation where I made sure the people who misbehaved understood that I was talking about them. Maybe Indians still have a certain threshold for shame that I'm able to overcome.

It started out with two conversations yesterday. One with someone I love and another with someone I’m supposed to love. Both tread over my mental minefield seemingly without a care. Whiplashes and big gashes. I was hurt and suddenly had lost faith in everything.

It was plain obvious – no smile, no spark, no positivity. Some I know from far far away tried to pick me up and make me feel better. He succeeded marginally. But what really helped was a a few of hours of sleep, albeit light, in the background of some eclectic music (loud).

I woke up early, almost having forgotten what had happened the previous night. I managed to make a lot of out the precious early morning. Then, went to work. The entire day was exceptionally productive. And on my way back, I tweeted – “ Time to give an extremely productive day an ending that it deserves. Don't you dare to spoil it now!”

No sooner had I reached home, there was an e-mail waiting for me – which broke me down completely. Then there was someone else on Skype who did his bit. And finally, I went to the chat room that I hang out usually, where I received some scathing comments under the pretext of humor. I ran out of the room scared.

I have never felt worse all year. Is this another episode of clinical depression that has been otherwise well managed by my medications? Only time will tell.

I explained what happened between me and him to my Mom. In an e-mail, that is - we still don't talk or chat. She told me to be positive and said that the right man would come. I replied saying that I am a little sad because I wanted to become a father soon.

She wrote to me today saying: 'If you want to become a father, you have to marry a girl!'

So innocent, so naïve.

I told her that there are other options like surrogacy and adoption. She hasn't responded back yet!

Last week, I posted about getting signals from a friend of mine that he wanted to be in a relationship with me. That turned out to be a false alarm after all. Today we talked on Skype and we have come to the conclusion that it's not going to work out because of some major issues.

But we'll remain friends!

So, I'm single again. I don't know if I should be happy or not.

Am I in a relationship? I would like to consider so. He is far far away and has a busy life. The maximum I can hope is to meet him twice a year when he visits India. But the crux of the matter is this - the kind of feelings that I have for him have not been reciprocated. Neither do I know if they ever will be.

These are the facts. I know for a fact that he’s not into me as I’m into him. I, actually, am almost in love with him, but I’m trying to keep my feelings in check. From what I can make out, I don’t think he has the skills/desire to keep the fire of a long-distance relationship raging on.

We talk to each other regularly – almost on all days. This is by phone – yes, long-distance calls on international calling cards. Our conversations are usually brief and we never get to a point where it gets nice and cozy. I hardly see him on Skype or Yahoo, and when I do, he is usually busy doing some chore or the other. It almost seems as if he doesn’t have time for me.

What do I feel? I feel a tad disappointed. Yet, I realize that I cannot force him to change - to propel his feelings to another level. At the same time, I feel extremely attracted to him and I think that he’s worth the bill. I would like to try to take this as far as I can and put in as much effort as possible. And I hope that we will reach a place where we can both feel happy about each other.

Of course, he will read this post some day or the other. When he does, I want to make it clear to him that this is not emotional blackmail. It’s just an honest assessment of the state of affairs.

I can’t explain it. It’s part telephobia. It’s almost like selective telephobia. I didn’t pick up a call from my sister today. I sent her an SMS saying that I didn’t feel like talking. She was apparently just trying to wish me a happy Keralaite New Year, and was extremely disappointed.

The only calls that I pick up without much of a problem are those from my band mates and those from my friends from abroad (older friends). Sometimes, I pick up anonymous calls, and if I find that they are telemarketers, I hang up almost instantly. Not even a courtesy “No thanks!”

The persons who I make calls to are even more restrictive – band mates and and my friends from abroad. The calls to band mates are strictly business-like, whereas to my friends from abroad, I open up and talk a bit. No family. No best friends. No college mates. No colleagues/ex-colleagues.

Yet, I’m much better off talking to people who I’m comfortable with on text/video chat than anything else. I haven’t a fucking clue as to how things ended up like this.

That day I made a promise
That I'd write a song for him
One month later, I'm far from keeping it

That day was the end of winter
In a noisy old hotel in Delhi
And now, I'm sweating in summer heat of Mumbai

That day, I wasn't lying
To a very dear friend of mine
And now, I'm waiting for him online

That day seems so far away
When I will see him again
And now, I'm waiting for that day again

My life, despite all its ups and downs, has been characterized by the presence of quality friends. Friends from every facet and phase of my life, and friends from every corner of the world. I'm truly indebted to those friends who care for me deeply and worry about my well being.

To all of you, I thank you, and I love you.

This is another song that I have just started writing. The last two lines of the first verse have been contributed by Vinokur. Both this and the song below have been inspired by status messages on FaceBook. FaceBook statuses aren't that bad after all.

‘What will you do tomorrow - write a song about me?’
I had said yes, but I haven’t yet
The words will come and the song will be
An ode to a friend that I’ll never forget

What I did today was to think about him
To reminisce the wonderful moments spent
And the words came along and the song is now
An ode to a friend that I’ll never forget

What I will do tomorrow, even I don’t know
I’ll hope for more such moments of fun and frolic
And the words have come and the song is now
An ode to a friend that I’ll never forget

How do such friends come along – that no one knows
How lucky I am to be with them – that only I know
How happy I was with him – that everyone can see
How glad I would be with him – that only time would tell

This is a song that I have just started writing. My friend Athiran contributed the last two lines of the first verse.

Don’t know what I should do now
Be myself or hide behind a pretense
Feel I should call him now
The pain I feel is so intense

Let’s blame it on love
Baby, that’s my only defense

Someone suggested to me
‘Be yourself, that’s the easiest way’
I swear by that rule, and hey
Have followed it scrupulously to date

Let’s blame this on them
Baby, that’s my only defense

I wait for an hour or two
Before calling him twice
I get no answer either time
Must’ve been busy, I pay the price

Let’s blame it on the situation
Baby, that’s my only defense

Hoping for a call or a message back
I stay up until half past one
I still haven’t heard from him
Must be sleeping now, like a baby

Let’s blame it on the distance
Baby, that’s my only defense

The last day of our trip started out with a heavy breakfast – as usual – at the rooftop restaurant. Both me and my friend had to catch morning flights to our destinations. The hotel arranged for a car to drop us at the airport. Because my friend was going to the International terminus T3, we dropped him off first. The taxi driver took Rs. 200 extra from me to take me to the domestic terminus – that’s how cut-throat these Delhi cabbies can be. That’s one of the reasons why I dislike Delhi. It is a beautiful place, but conveyance is a pain in the neck. I think the metro is a fantastic thing to have happened to Delhi and has made intra-city travel so much easier.

My flight was delayed by 2 hours primarily because of fog and secondarily because of (what I feel) as the sheer ineptitude of Go Air, the airline which I was flying. Despite my breakfast, I felt hungry and had to grab a miniaturised chicken zinger burger from the KFC and a coffee from the Costa Coffee before I boarded the flight at around 1 pm. There is nothing much to write home about regarding the flight except that it hovered in the Mumbai airspace for close to 20 minutes because of airtime congestion. Darned! Had I been home on time, I could have worked half-day and saved that much of leave.

I took an auto-rickshaw back home from the airport. Unlike Delhi, I asked the rickshaw-wallah to put on the meter and he obliged. That’s the beauty of Mumbai. On the ride in the rickshaw, I carefully surveyed the roads of Mumbai and compared them with those in Delhi. One thing is certain – Delhi might be brilliant, spacious, and beautiful in some parts. But it can’t beat Mumbai in terms of consistency and charm. Of course, conveyance is the other glaring “fail” of Delhi.

After reaching back home late in the evening, I started working on the photos and my blog posts so that you can read all this. All in all, it was a fabulous trip to Delhi and I had the wonderful company of a charming man! We sure are looking forward to our next trip together. Maybe it will be to Goa!

It was the third day of our stay. The clouds had cleared up – it was bright and sunny and perfect weather to sight-see in Delhi. We had the Qutub complex on our agenda. We took the metro down to the Qutub Minar metro station. There were share Omni cabs waiting to prey on travelers wanting to visit the Qutub complex. They packed 9 people including the driver into that cab at Rs. 10 per person. It was so cramped that the gear shift was between my friend’s legs throughout the journey. The clown that he is, he didn’t waste an opportunity to squeal every time the driver tried to shift gears!

The Qutub complex had the same racist agenda as the Red Fort – foreigners have to pay Rs. 250/- whereas Indians and natives of the SAARC countries need only pay Rs. 10/-. I had posted a couple of status messages about this blatant racism. Many people commented on it. One of them, an architect friend of mine, said that the Archaeological Survey of India uses the extra money generated from the foreigners to maintain the monuments. However, she also pointed out that despite the money taken, basic amenities like drinking water and clean toilets are not provided for visitors. This was not the case in the US apparently, as confirmed by my friend, who said that most landmarks did not ask for a fee to get in and offered world-class services.



Anyway, we spent about an hour and half at the Qutub complex. A bunch of school kids were also visiting at the same time. Some of them were sporty and posed for pictures. I’ll post a few for your reference.

We decided to take a rickshaw back to the metro station. The rickshaw driver insisted that we visit a couple of emporiums on our way as he would get some free gas cards if we did that. We visited the Rajasthan emporium where I tried to buy a kurta pyjama set for my friend. Unfortunately, we couldn’t find anything that would fit my friend properly. So we left the emporium without buying anything. The rickshaw wallah stopped us at Saket metro station. From there, we took the metro to INA station and went to Delhi Haat for the second time in three days.

It was such a different experience this time. All the stalls were occupied and there was so much more to see. We shopped around like crazy – my friend bought more scarves, jewelry, and a Madhubani painting, whereas I picked up some exotic ball pens (from Rajasthan), some wrist jewelry, and a handmade leather-covered book for my colleagues at the office. I bought my friend a handmade leather-covered book and a framed medium size Madhubani painting as gifts. Once again, we ate at the Kerala food stall – this time we had Puttu + Kadala Curry, Appam + Chicken Curry, and an Onion Oothappam.

We ran into a mom/daughter couple from the USA – we had met them on our fist vist two days back as well. Pamela, the mother, wanted to use my phone to get in touch with her husband – she didn’t have a local phone. Our conversation with her was raunchy and funny and she immediately realized that we were ‘seeing’ each other. She indirectly told us that we were a beautiful couple. It was the second time in Delhi that strangers had recognized us as a couple and complemented us. It felt wonderful!

With all the stuff we had bought, we had to take a rickshaw back to the hotel. We celebrated our third successful day out together by sipping some beer (that too, Fosters) that the room boy had specially arranged for us. After relaxing in the room for a couple of hours, we went up to the rooftop restaurant of the hotel, where the chef had made a special Hyderabadi Chicken Biriyani for us. Although the spices weren’t all there, he did a remarkable job of making one for us. We finished another bottle of Fosters beer along with the dinner. With a heavy stomach and a heavy heart full of thoughts having to leave each other and the wonderful city of Delhi the next day, we returned back to the hotel room.

The second day started out with a fantastic breakfast at the roof-toop restaurant at our hotel. It was still overcast and there was a threat of drizzles. We first set out by metro to Chandni Chowk. Central Delhi isn’t really a place that will appeal to a foreigner who’s expecting Delhi to be a shining demonstration of India’s emergency as an economic superpower. After getting out the metro station, we walked around the maze of Chandni Chowk. We found an interesting chaiwallah who allowed us to photograph him after some initial reluctance. His chai was amazing and we would recommend him if you ever visit Chandni Chowk by using the metro as he is on your way out from the metro station to the main street.

We walked through some of the bylanes in Chandni Chowk looking for some items for him to buy, but we didn’t find anything interesting. Then we headed out to the Red Fort where we were greeted by the great Indian racist propoganda – Rs. 250 entry for a foreigner and Rs. 10 for an Indian or those from the SAARC countries. After getting our passes, we went in the majestic red fort which wasn’t look all that red.

Inside, we found an interesting row of stalls selling antiques, jewelery etc. He was suggesting that we should visit all the shops with cute Indian men and as soon as we said that, we walked by a shop which had a couple of handsome Indian men up front. We walked into the shop and we were greeted by a third handsome man who took us to the interior of the shop to demonstrate his wares.

We got into a friendly conversation with him. Soon enough, the vendor recognized us as being a gay couple and outed himself as a bisexual guy. He showed us fantastic paintings of the gay Kama Sutra – apparently, that shop is the only place which sells such paintings in Delhi. We had such a wonderful, flirtatious chat with this vendor and we decided that we would come back and buy some paintings if my friend’s client would answer positively to the e-mail that we would send later that evening.

We then visited the interior of the fort, which was a pleasant experience. On our way back out, we checked out some more stalls and my friend bought a few bracelets at a reasonable price using all of his charm on the vendors. I can’t believe how all these vendors love him so much. He’s such a charmer, I say! We then headed back to the metro station. We grabbed some cheap vegetarian fast food on our way for lunch.

We bought our tickets to the Central Secretariat and got into a packed train at Chandni Chowk. We were almost crushed to death three times during our trip – funny, it wasn’t even rush hour. I consider that as an experience even worse than the rush hour in Mumbai suburban railway system. Somehow, we managed to get down at the Central Secretariat and walked on the Rajpath to the India Gate. This part of Delhi, the South Delhi part is incredibly beautiful – despite some puddles and mud on our way because of the rain.

We hung out for a few minutes at the India Gate where some vendors came up to my friend and started talking to him in English. Suddenly, my friend started talking in Japanese. The jaws of the vendors dropped and they asked me in English if my friend was Japanese. After a furious minute or two of conversation in fluent Japanese, during which my friend indicated his lack of interest in the items the vendors were selling, we took a autorickshaw to Rashtrapathi Bhavan at the other end of Rajpath.

We spent a few minutes taking pictures and my friend posed for pictures with an extended family from Uttar Pradesh. Then we took the same autorickshaw back to Pahar Ganj. We were really tired for the second day in running and relaxed for a couple of hours while drinking beer – I watched the World Cup warm up match between India and New Zealand while my friend got busy with e-mails and photographs.

We headed out to find another restaurant for having dinner. We ended up at a cheap roadside dhabha at Arakasan road which had a tandoor. After having rather disappointing dinner comprising Tandoori Chicken, rumaali roti, and half chicken tikka biriyani, we took a walk around the disappointing neighborhood. I played with a few of the stray dogs – the stray dogs in Delhi are so much more friendly than those in Mumbai – and after that, we returned back home for the night.

Waking up in the morning and catching an early flight to Delhi is stressful enough. That too, to meet a person whom you have never met is almost terrifying with the weight of expectations, how much ever you try to control them. But I wasn’t really terrified - I was happy and excited with Madonna giving me brilliant company through the trip and FaceBook threads giving me enough entertainment as a distraction.

When I got down at the Terminal 1 of the Delhi airport, it was cold and overcast. I had to find a way to get to the new Terminal 3 (T3) - I found a free inter-terminal GVM bus which was rather convenient. At T3, however, as the time of arrival of my friend’s flight drew nearer, it started raining, it got really cold, and my anxiety was almost unbearable. His flight was slightly delayed and it took some time for him to clear immigration and get out. He couldn’t find me initially - and was wandering around the couple of exists for a few minutes until I saw him.

I called out for him and he turned around and we walked toward each other. He looked even more beautiful than I had expected him to be. He came over and we hugged each other. It was a surreal experience to have met someone so special within 7 weeks of meeting each other online. We took a cab to the hotel in the cold, rainy weather. Incredibly enough, the road leading from the airport to the city was lined by various things under construction and the rain made everything blur into a muddy mess.

However, the conversation was easy and smooth I felt at ease with his company. Our senses of humor were complementary – that is why we got interested in each other in the first place – and it was obvious that we made an excellent pair intellectually. And he was crazy and eccentric – just like the clown that I had grown used to on Skype.

For some reason or the other, the cab driver took us through one of the less beautiful roads of Delhi to the dirty Pahar Ganj area, a hub for cheap hotels. We were expecting the worst when the cabbie rode up a filthy side lane into a the Arakasan road leading up to our hotel. Our hotel looked a tad better than the rest of the other neighboring hotels and we were ushered into our “Premium” room. Despite it being late in the morning, we decided to have some breakfast and ordered in the complimentary breakfast.

After resting for an hour or so, we planned to head out to the streets. The room-boys told us that it was raining heavily outside – but we didn’t want to get stuck indoors. We took an autorickshaw to Connaught Place to check out the various state emporiums and showrooms of handicrafts along the Baba Kharak Singh Marg (NH8) and picked up a couple of umbrellas from a shop.

Connaught place was an incredible mess, with the rain spoiling everything. We took some time to find out an ATM and a currency exchange vendor before having a cup of average coffee at the Madras Coffee House at P-block. We asked around for Baba Kharak Sing Marg but we got confusing responses from the people that we asked. Finally, a boy pointed us out the right way.

We went and visited almost all the emporiums on the road. He wanted to take a look at silk scarves, bracelets, necklaces etc to see if he could make a reasonable wholesale purchase. It was incredible the way he interacted with the vendors. Cracking jokes, making them smile, and making them extremely friendly! They all loved him and he loved charming them! Although we didn’t buy anything, he got an idea about the various options that he had in Delhi (as compared to the open markets in Thailand, Bali, and Burma).

We then took the Metro from Rajiv Chowk to INA and went to Delhi Haat. By this time the weather had cleared up and it was a little warmer. Although we were greeted by a message at the ticket counter that some of the stalls are closed because allotment of stalls was taking place on that day, we weren’t all that disappointed. We walked in and found an incredible array of stalls featuring products such as silk scarves, pashminas, rugs, jewlery, paintings, paper work, puppets and more. There were some food stalls too – I took him to the Kerala Tourism Development’s stall where we had appam (which is apparently called “huppers” in Sri Lanka) and vegetable stew.

We bought a few scarves at a reasonable price and also bought a couple of hanging puppets for decorating his tents – he resells all these scarves/jewelry items in the US after setting up tents at various institutions, schools etc. We then took the train back to the New Delhi where we had to wait for half an hour to get platform tickets to cross to the other side of the station where our hotel was. That was the really annoying part of the entire trip.

After reaching back the hotel all exhausted, we relaxed for a bit before taking a shower and then venturing out for dinner. The most ironic thing is that there were hardly any good restaurants in Pahar Ganj where one can have a decent dinner with drinks. We found a recently opened restro bar called Delhi Den where we had a cocktail and tandoori chicken along with rotis and palak paneer. The food was delicious – that’s Delhi’s asset, the quality of the restaurants. And we called it a night after that.

I must confess that all through the day, I felt the most at ease that I had felt with anyone that I had met in a long time. It was almost as if we had known each other for years. That concludes day one of our adventure in Delhi.

The morning went to plan
Until I get a call from him
Was he changing his plan?
Was it just me, or was it him?

I call him, my heart's in my mouth
Unfortunately, it's not a clear line
I hear his voice, he asks
'Is everything going to plan?'

I breathe a sigh of relief
I told him everything's just fine
I need to have more self-belief
Just to be myself, I'm fine

The morning went well,
The afternoon did too,
When the evening came, well
I was much like a cuckoo

The workday went a little too busy
My workmates were all happy for me
All of the wished me the very best
They wanted to see me happy, after all

At the very end of the day
My boss called me in the cabin
We discussed something important
And we shook hands and parted with a smile

It is my first vacation from work
In two years and a little more
I went back to my desk thinking about it
And my heart was back in my mouth

The morning went well,
The afternoon did too,
When the evening came, well
I was much like a cuckoo

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

I don't know what's happening to me
I'm nervous and jittery, its plain obvious for everyone to see
A bunch of butterflies have taken refuge in my tummy
Madonna and Trent Reznor aren't helping me take it easy

Waiting for a word from him
Waiting for a call from him
Waiting to hear his voice
Waiting to hear him say 'yes'

Every moment that passes does ever so slowly
Every time I refresh my inbox our when my phone vibrates
My heart goes into a flutter
Don't know if I can pull down the shutter

All this in the hope that
Every moment that I'll spend with him
Will be making up for these anxious moments
All this in the hope that
Every moment that I spend waiting
Will be rewarded by something special

This morning, the wonderful man that I am hopefully going to meet up with called me on Skype. He said that he couldn’t find a direct flight to Mumbai. I wasn’t quite disappointed when I heard this primarily because I was staring at his handsome face. Then a brainwave struck me. I suggested that he fly to Delhi and catch a flight to Mumbai. He said he hadn’t thought of that before. He said he’ll look into it and let me know by tomorrow morning.

All day at work, my brain was churning over about how to make this work. Then it struck me – why can’t I fly to Delhi and meet him there. Soon, I was looking up tickets to Mumbai–Delhi to-and-fro flights online and I found some really cheap fares. I was so excited that I had to call him. I did, and he answered –for the first time in a couple of weeks. I informed him about the developments. He sounded cheerful and asked me to forward the information about the flight tickets.

I forwarded the information in an e-mail and I haven’t heard back from him except for the acknowledgment of his receipt of the e-mail. The excitement/suspense is killing me. That was very evident in the office when I told my friends about what might happen. I’m so dying to wake up tomorrow morning to his call on Skype informing him about his arrival to Mumbai. More crossed appendages please!

A few weeks back, I had written a song about a wonderful man that I had met online. I sent the song to this funny guy who commented that he liked it but wanted more instrumentation in the song. Anyway, I thought these two lines were the weakest lines in that song.

Wishing that us and this would be real, really soon
Wishing that it would be, sooner than soon

Apparently they aren’t. He made me really happy today morning on Skype. He said that he might visit me in a couple of weeks in Mumbai. I have every paired appendage in my body crossed hoping that this would happen. Please cross yours with me. I have already applied for leave expecting his arrival and our first meeting.