Tuesday, December 29, 2015

Fucked Up Intimacies

Everyone keeps talking about how great open relationship really is. Yes it is. 

In case you were wondering that this post was going to be me bitching about open relationships, it isn't. 

However, I do want to talk about what the most difficult part for me has been...being in an open relationship. It's been my tussle with figuring out intimacies. One thing that I have always been very clear in my head about before going into bed with anyone is that I can NOT get it up without being intimate with the other person. By intimacy I don't mean showering 'I love you's' or 'I want to spend the rest of my life with you' (thinking of which I have said 'I love you' to barely 5 people in my life) but requiring a minimum level of attachment with the other person. It could perhaps be me being attracted to the way he smells, or how intelligent he is, or good to talk to. I can not do anything without talking to the other person for some good time (which may stretch from 3 hours to 3 months).

Intimacy for me that does not really happen instantly, but something that develops. I don't really think I have a threshold of time against which I judge my each experience but I don't really have any particular sense of time that I ascribe as a pre-requisite for being...you know...there...fully. 

Few weeks back, I 'thought' (I don't know felt? experienced? felt hard at the thought of? wanted to suck his cock?), I felt a little bit *too* intimate with a guy. I liked the way he smelled, we have been talking since more than a year, I don't really know much about him, but something....SOMETHING about him, made me want to explore the possibility of being intimate, more than the usual that is. The problem, as has been since FUCKING HIGH SCHOOL WITH EVERY GUY THAT I FALL FOR is that he wasn't interested. 

But this incident got me thinking, am I really okay with loving more than one person? Yes, I do have really intimate moments with guys who I occasionally sleep with but what the fuck does this even mean? I think I also have the capability of living in illusions. For instance, how fleeting these moments of intimacies really are! YOU might think that you are having such a wonderful time in bed or having an excellent date with the other person but they might just be having a really average time or well, counting the minutes the hell gets over for them. And whenever I DO get intimate, I feel so exposed. It's like I am giving some part of me away.

And I don't think guys generally know how to deal with those moments. I have had guys completely ignore me after that because they just couldn't handle that kind of relationship without the tag of 'boyfriend' or guys repeatedly telling me 'I love you' because the level of affection and being there would just not be possible in a casual(?) moment. 

Where does that leave me? Because I genuinely DO want to explore these moments more. Without having to worry about being asked out for a serious committed relationship. Would it always be, that you are in it for all or nothing at all? Or just nameless senseless fucking? I mean these hook up apps are what we make of them right? Not just One night stands? Or gossip columns of who is sleeping with whom? 

Now I find it completely impossible to suck someone's cock and not look at them. It's just really powerful. To have someone's dick in your mouth and feel like you are in control of their entire body's movement. And see that sense of submission and/or lust in their eyes. Or to be fucked or fuck someone in missionary position and not be looking at their fucking forehead. To fucking look into their eyes and tell them to let themselves loose. To fucking give in and look at me in the eyes! Or to not just move from one act of foreplay to the next but actually enjoy being with each other in bed. To feel each other bodies. To not just smell each other but lick that fucking smell out of each other and taste it in each other's tongues. 

Well, to summarize, my time being all independent and in control of my life (I dont think I am, I just pretend that I am so that I can sleep at night) is not really that great. Because men in this fucking city only want to fuck for recreational purposes or to 'bust some stress'. Damnit I don't want to fuck for the sake of fucking. I want to enjoy it. 

I want to sign off (does anyone really reads this blog...) with something I had written for this group on FB called...oh wait...I'll be giving away my anonymity then..anyway..here it is.


"His eyes never left his face. He wanted to stare into his eyes. To assure himself that the depth of that desire ....of that longing wasn't just in him. He repeatedly felt his lips.His fingers, hungry, discovered every inch of that eyebrow, ears, nose. He was ready to expose his vulnerabilities. He was ready to lose himself.
.
.
.
Lying down, all he wanted was to forget. To forget that he could never fall in love again. To forget that he could never find himself through someone else. Looking would betray his thoughts. Looking would make him remember. Looking would be.....intimate. So he didn't.
.
.
.
'I had a good time'
'Yeah me too'
'See you soon then?'
'Yes. Of course'
.
.
.
And in that moment when he looked anywhere but his eyes, he knew.
.
He knew how fleeting moments of intimacies are. 
.
He decided never take the step to expose himself again.
.
.
.
'Well, goodbye then......'"

Monday, September 7, 2015

Lingering Coconut Oil Smell and (non) Hairy Chests

I think I have done lot of things in my life out of pure impulse and this was one of them. Couple of weeks back I went to a massage place with my friend. Now, this is no ordinary 'spa'. Catering exclusively to men, it's set in a very shady looking location in south Delhi and it's equally shady interiors don't really inspire confidence. Nevertheless, I was there, inside, so might as well go ahead with it.

What struck me the most inside, well beside the guys only in their towels roaming everywhere, was that there was Pro-Kabaddi playing on the TV in the hall! Kabaddi is a wrestling sport in India, more famous in the northern regions. And it has none of that fancy shit that the western countries have. Its just men (and women, but who looks at those matches) playing in the mud without any equipment or gear. I don't think I am doing justice in its description, so please do google it.

You did?

Yes?

Well...

So yeah. Moving on. I have never been to a brothel in my life. But I have heard about it, seen it in documentaries, read about it etc. One of the characteristic description of them is how when the customer enters the establishment, he/she is offered women/men by physically producing them before him/her. I wasn't really expecting that here in the spa. But it happened. Couple of these men were just standing there and chatting and suddenly they all were pointed out to me by the...uh...manager(?). And in that moment they all stopped talking and just looked over at me. It was awkward. I chose one guy. He was hot. Typical North Indian looking. Well built, blah blah, you know all those characteristics.

We went to a very small room which had just one massage table on it. Usually when I am new to places or circumstances, I generally go completely quiet or talk fair amount. In this situation I chose to talk, since the masseur initiated the conversation. Well leave the conversation aside, the massage! THE FUCKING MASSAGE!! It was so fucking good! The every inch of my body (yes, he did go through every inch of my body) was thanking him! He asked me while massaging me if I wanted 'body play'. After many moments of miscommunication, he gave me a hand job and I cummed bucketloads. I wouldn't exactly categorize my experience as 'hot' but god fucking damnit, it was extremely erotic. You know those moments, when the situation isn't really sexy in a typical sexual sense, but there is almost palpable energy of sexual expression? It was something like that.

The effect of this massage (I didn't opt to go for a sauna or steam) lasted for few days. I was so very intrigued by the entire setting. The shady spaces where no one is anyone but everyone is someone.

I went there again after few weeks. Alone this time.

This time though, the massage wasn't just a hand job. I said explicit yes to the question of 'body play'. The massuers there are supposedly all straight. Apparently they never give blowjobs but readily take them. They don't ever get fucked, but fuck clients. So yeah 'body play' happened. No penetration though.

This time I did opt for sauna and steam. I think if I had to summarize these places, it would be...too many hands trying to get hold of you....to touch you....to be touched by you. Do I really want to be in a place where men who I can easily ignore from the safety of my mobile app are present in my immediate physical space? How firm does my 'no' need to be? Insistence everywhere. I think what disturbed me the most about the place was how having agency over your body becomes very blurry. 

I walked out this time, somehow feeling less relaxed. The lingering coconut smell did not seem inviting on my body, but an intrusion. 

I think I got my closure from these places. 

Or maybe not. 

The massage wasn't that bad.....

Friday, June 19, 2015

Turn the lights off

I have always imagined that I have had a very diverse range of boys men in bed with me. No, I am not going to list down their races or ethnicity or their dick sizes (wait..I think I have already done that before). But recently, it just hit me. There is something which just runs common to all of them. Before you start speculating some recurring sexual position that I would be propounding on, let me stop you right there. What I am talking about is how every time, yes, EVERY SINGLE TIME, the person I was with had always insisted on turning the lights off. Or blinding the curtains. Or Shutting the window. Or put on an Invisibility Cloak. You have it.  

There is a song by Lady Gaga called Dance in the Dark in which she says, "Baby, loves to dance in the dark. Cause when he's looking she falls apart". It spoke of the insecurity that this woman has with her body. So conscious she is of her body, so uncomfortable she is with her body, that she would physically and emotionally fall apart when she would be met with the man's gaze. So the only way to fully exercise her control over her sexuality is in the dark. 

Exactly how I would feel more comfortable blowing a guy with me bending down. It is something I would never do in full light because I would be constantly worried about how the guy I am with would not like what he is seeing. Or me always choosing to be on top while getting fucked or choose to be missionary while fucking. It has always got to do with how this or that part of my body shouldn't be highlighted while I am having sex. It's funny how this post started with the tone of 'that mother fucking put the lights out' to something which happens completely on my personal terms too. 

I wouldn't be the first person in this world to admit that I have had body image issues. I was a healthy kid until my mother claims, 'jab maine tujhe khilana chhod diya' (the moment I stopped making you eat food). I have grown up in my immediate and extended family constantly hearing one god-fucking-damning ground breaking and extremely compelling question! Why am I so skinny! The shame that I am NEEDED to feel with my body was being thrown at me in various too many sentences and forms. Be it my mother telling me that she wouldn't take me to a marriage ceremony with her because 'what would people say when they see such a skinny lad!' Or my house helper looking at me and asking me very genuinely, 'don't I feel sharam (shame) when I look at myself in the mirror?' Well long story short, whenever I am in bed with a person, and the lights would go off, I did feel a sense of ease. My body would instantly react to another person's body when we would be engulfed by darkness. I would feel my muscles relaxing, enjoying foreplay more, imagining my body to look the certain way to the other person, And ALL because the dark would give me an unexplained agency over the situation. 

Lot of that darkness has also got to do with bringing that public secrecy to into the bed. How it is easier to deal with this sexual act in the fold of invisibility. It does make things easier, doesn't it? When you don't have to be constantly worrying about your body looking mis-shapen. I am also aware how extremely offensive such reactions are to a disabled individual. But this is something I have been fighting since a long long time. I am trying to become (more) comfortable with my body and not aspiring towards a particular form of body type. This silly assumption how everything in life would just becomes better if I reach that particular body goal. Ugh. What is wrong with me. 



Sunday, June 14, 2015

Running Away from the Past

Recently I was talking to a very dear high school friend of mine and we were being nostalgic about our good old times. Her ex-boyfriend is someone I used to have (still do, I guess) a crush on. I remembered those (few) days when I would hang out with him during recess breaks. I remember having a somewhat pleasant time.  To which my friend interjected by saying, "but I remember him making fun of you in front of the entire class!"

How clearly I remember that moment. How clearly I remember holding back tears.

I think there are times in all of our lives when we try to make sense of whatever experiences we have been through. Many such experiences which I keep burying in my mind are related to my painful moments of bullying through out much of my high school life. There are moments when I start thinking about just one incident and all of it comes rushing hammering into my brain. I don't think I still have processed all of these memories. It was at the moment when my friend spoke out loud about it, I realized how conveniently I have chosen to forget about those parts of my life and painted a glossy picture in which I was a super brave and courageous person who faced the world alone. The truth is that I was afraid every second. I was afraid of my every move in every place. How I would take a different route to the exit gate of the school so I don't run into those boys...every boy....
How I would pretend to laugh and pretend to be paying full attention to the person talking and standing next to me, not being able to shut out the jibes and jokes they would shout at me across the basketball courts. I remember them clearly. What the weather was. What I was wearing. Who was with me. Their faces. Their jeering, cruel, mocking faces. I wish I could just point out just that one incident that ruined my life but there have been so many. Across schools. Across cities. [I have had my education spanning over 4 schools across Jalandhar (Punjab), Lucknow (Uttar Pradesh) and Bangalore (Karnataka)]

There have been times when I had wanted to confront them. Maybe find them on facebook, write them a message. But would that help? Displaying my vulnerability? A friend of mine told me once, how his ex-batch mate messaged him out of the blue and apologized for being a bully. He said that unexpected message was one of the best surprises he had got in his life. Maybe that's what I am actively looking out for. To try to talk to those people and understand that why they did this to me. I want to let them know how much they hurt me. I want to tell them how scarring their actions were.

Since few years, I would keep jokingly telling my friend that I want to meet this ex-boyfriend of hers (him having expressed some vague interest in meeting me with her too). And somewhere in my sub-conscious I just want to hear those three words! I. Am. Sorry. And then suddenly I think that am I not strong enough? Do I actively look out for apologies from people just to validate my experiences? Is this the only way I am EVER going to get closure? 

All of this just led to one reaction. Me shutting everything out. It just became so much easier to pretend that I am strong. That I could handle the world. In fact, even now, it is so easy for me to let go. Because I always fear that intensity of commitment in anyone, because I always impulsively protect myself by shutting everyone out; be it any form of intimate relationship. 

I don't know where this post is headed. I know I will never have the willpower to actually give enough fucks in my life to seek out these people and message them. Because I don't want to look into the past. I have become stronger.......

have I? 

Monday, May 25, 2015

The attack of the *gasp* Pure Top!!!

Hello people! I write this blog entry after a week into my new first job fresh out of college. All I need is an expensive wardrobe change to feel like Anne Hathaway from Devil Wears Prada and I am set to take over the world! (Yes, subtle hint at bitchy-tough-to-deal-with-boss). Nevertheless, I like my work, so it IZ FAAINE. 

What's not so faaine are the stupid top boys who seem to be sprouting like motherfucking cockroaches. (yeah yeah, bad analogy) I don't know if this frustration is to do more with me being in Delhi (not just the capital of the country, but also the capital of maximum number of douchebags found in one place) or just life in general. But what the fuck is up with cis gendered men trying to assert their sexual position as top to prove their masculinity! What is this mirroring the sexual dominant position of hetero-normative people! Isn't it bad enough that we had deal with straight prejudice 22 out of 24 hours of our lives? 

I used to get confused by these two categories on Planetromeo, "Role" and "Position". Where I would come across profiles which had 'Versatile' as roles and 'Tops' as positions. What does this mean? WHAT THE FUCK DOES THIS MEAN? Hey! I am all for gender fluidity, role reversal, but how this translates into establishing your superiority over others, is what I don't get. Are you are doing me a favor by kissing me during foreplay and maybe sucking my dick? (Because generally tops don't do that?) That you have this weird idea about how in porn 'have I ever seen the guy who fucks do anything but fuck the bottom!?' WHAT THE FUCK IS COMING TO THIS WORLD!

Who could say better about ridiculous state of gay men in India than Ashley Tellis. And of course this sexual position comes with million caveats. For instance, "no girlies, no sissies, no uncles, no fatties" or an extremely obnoxious statement like "I am a MAN who likes another MAN, so no trannies or crossdressers". I think more than anything what it reveals about Indian men is that they are no less misogynist like other 'normal' men. They are just as big an assholes like everyone else. I know it sounds incredibly cliche to say 'Where has the romance gone', but seriously WHERE HAS IT GONE? 

And I totally hate dismissing this idea of passionate sex just because so many of us say that there is an entire culture of meaningless sex invading our interpersonal relationships. Why does one have to always detach a sense of deeper emotional connect in opposition to one night stand? Just because two parties have agreed to have a no-strings attached hardcore fuck, does that really mean that you have to demean each other by sticking to in-and-out top/bottom fucking experience? 

Top men need to realize how amazing being bottom is. Bottom men need to realize how incredible fucking is and stop referring themselves to submissive 'bitch boys'! We need to step outside these binaries not just in terms of the gender spectrum but our everyday lives, which very much includes our sexual expressions. Sex isn't just limited to poppers and condoms you know.

My reaction when the 'pure top' tells me he doesn't suck dicks -