The title of this story which is mostly a memoire is quite
self-explanatory. I am going to narrate
the feelings and experiences I have been through in my formative years. But as
this is a story, and no one cares about the historicity of someone like me, I
will add some spices where it is needed. And the disclaimer is, if you see any
similarity of any incident described here with your life, then it is quite
intentional.
Well
where do I start with? The first time I realized that I have a thing for guys
or the first time I had sex? Now I know everyone like juicy sex stories, but I
am not sure if I am ready to shock my family, as I know they will be the first
to read this. Anyway I think having me in the family is pretty shocking and
they have developed their shock proof ability quite well over the year. So I
cannot remember when I actually first had sex, yes it has been so early in my
life it seems I was born with an erection somewhere inside at least. He was a
playmate of mine and we used to call it our “secret game”. I remember while
playing with other friends couple of times we told them that there is one
“game” that we two can enjoy only when we are left alone, and those bunch of
stupid (they grew up as straight men so what else do you expect) guys gave us
our privacy. Most probably I never needed an addiction (like ecstasy drugs) during
my teenage as I was getting it elsewhere.
So far
things have been OK, and the readers (I hope this time it is a little more than
my mother, sisters and close friends) must be thinking where is the “wanna be”
straight part? My advice to them, patience is a virtue and I will get there. So
things were going pretty well until my “friend” reached his sweet 16 and
suddenly realized whatever we were doing was very wrong and the Gods (am sure
the bearded ones) will punish us heavily for it unless we quit it right away. I
was kind of dumb (I still am) and I thought he must be right just because he
was 16 and I was mere 15 years old. And hence started the confusion. I could
really not understand how can something like sex (now do not ask me the details
of the act at that age, just know it was good) be “Wrong” while doing it we
never felt wrong, and I really wanted to try it at least once more with him and
see if we both felt wrong during it. It took me a long time to realize, it
never feels wrong during the act, the problems in general start afterwards.
Anyway, with the first rejection of my life came the guilt and the question am
I wrong? And I looked around, and oh boy! Everything around me told me that it
WAS ABSOLUTELY WRONG! Look at the movies, only the guys who move their hips by
360 degree when they walk and wear lipstick are attracted to other men.
Further, everywhere I looked, everyone I talked to were talking about how
amazing life is when you find your partner (definitely of opposite “polarity”).
All these still could not convenience me that I was wrong. What it did was made
me not talk about it, but I fantasized every possible good looking guy. I
remember just before the board exams, my friend (this one is really just a
friend) and I used to do group study (I know it sounds kinky) and one day he
opened up to me. He said that he feels so guilty that he likes girls and thinks
about them all the time and he is so jealous that I am so focused. I screamed
within saying oh boy if you knew what I think about half of my classmates.
As my
confusion regarding my sexuality kept growing so did time. In the mean while
wherever I heard the word gay, I started growing increasingly cautious
outwardly but at the same time the single word enticed me in side. During this
time there was no sex in my life, but I read somewhere that if a an young guy
goes to the Curzon Park in Calcutta after sundown he is assured of getting a
blow job. Although I really wanted to experience that, my inhibition and the lack of knowledge of
whereabouts of Curzon Park stopped me from going there. When in college I used
to like one of my classmates very dearly, we had a complete platonic but
romantic relationship, where we complimented each other to the extent he loved
football and I loved it only because I could see hairy legs, he loved organic
chemistry and I used that text book as my pillow.
While I
was enjoying this platonic romance with my classmate for long three years, at
the same time I was becoming more and more religious and ritualistic. Somehow I
felt that gave me a validation against the “sins” I was committing every day. I
would pray to the Gods day and night, especially at night before I went to bed,
asking him to fix me and “straighten” me literally and figuratively. But I
think there had always been a conflict between the conscious effort to hide my
sexuality and a more subconscious denial to hide it. Hence I continued
disliking sports in public, liking art and museum and anything finer in life
and mostly continued enjoying gossips, all very “gayish” traits. I loved gossip
so much that I remember when I was taking my university level physics exam, the
two examiners kept bitching about their respective mom-in-laws and I was
intently listening to them and not writing my paper. At the end one of them
noticed me and told me “hey, you will not pass by listening to our stories Mr.
so get back to writing”.
In this
time frame I did two major things, the first was I called a gay help line in Calcutta,
but I was so afraid that I could not talk. And the second, brighter thing was,
I started talking to a girl online. The joy of being able to make a friend
online for the first time was confused by me as being attracted towards her.
But this very feeling would make me so happy and I would tell myself, thank god
at least I am bi (by this time I was conversant with all the terms in this
line). We talked for days and months, and then finally the day arrived for us
to meet. We met near the Globe, and trust me she was pretty and was really
hoping to continue this dating thing. But somehow when I went to meet her and
met her actually something did not feel very right. There was no anticipation,
apprehension, butterflies in the stomach situation which in general happened
with me when I saw a good looking guy. The problem was I was too “friendly” and
hence that was the first and last girl I ever dated.
Much
later on, when I was older and “wiser” I have been attracted towards several
girls. Each time this weirdness of attraction has made me crazy and
infuriating. Why the hell that bloody bearded guy need to confuse me like this?
During the last attraction I asked myself a very simple question, how do I know
this is a real attraction and am not trying to be a conformist finally? And
will I be ever be able to be completely happy with a girl? Both the questions
had very vague answers, with the second one the answer was 80% no. So that very
day I realized this is time I open the door of my closet and come out in light.
I did eventually to my friend Divya first and then to my mother, most of my
friends and my sisters. That list grows every month and am so lucky that most
have them have given me love and support although I suspected hostility. I will
not say the life after the “wanna be straight” phase is easy. Getting past the
one night stands and the fear of catching some bug on the way, the fear of
losing hair and getting fat and being single and dying alone and mostly the
fear of not having kids ever haunts me and alike. But I can still say, that
timid boy of north Calcutta, who was never a conformist by his habits, is happy
today.
