About nothing. Or, how I convinced somebody I was a lesbian.

Whyyyy don't I have anything to write about these days. I definitely don't feel like ruminating on 'moments of quiet' and 'parcels of happiness' and 'unknown paths' and 'battles against life' and all the other pseudo-reflective crap I've been spouting recently - mostly because of the not-having-anything-to-write-thing. I'm trying to think of the last funny thing that happened to me, but I can't. I'm sure there are, something disastrous happens to me every week, but I don't remember right now, so obviously they couldn't have been particularly interesting or distinctive.

Every time I meet my Indiranagar friends - not as often as I used to - and they ask me what's up, all I say is, "work". Which is a lie. I mean, I'm busy with work, but not that busy. But it's become my standard response. I guess it has some uses after all. 

Oh here's something. I've told this story to practically everyone I know (and sometimes I've told it twice without realising - see how little I have to talk about these days?) but I might as well mention it here since I have nothing else to do except edit a crap video for a crap client. 

My friend and colleague Saikat told this other colleague, Hareesh, that I am a lesbian. By the way, a side note on Hareesh - he's the kind of fellow who has teddy bears hanging from his closet and he knows all the best beauty products and he knows that honey's good for dry skin but not oily skin. (Hareesh has oily skin, just in case you were wondering.) 

Anyway so that's what Saikat - who is a fucker (not literally but who knows) like Friend - told Hareesh. That I'm a lesbian - in case you got dazed because of the honey thing and forgot. 

You know what Hareesh's response was?

"I thought so."

Which I found a little insulting. I mean, I have nothing against lesbians, look at Ellen DeGeneres for example, but why would someone think I'm a lesbian? I don't dress like a man these days - not much anyway - and  I've even started wearing skirts and dresses and cardigans and shit. Seriously - I own a cardigan. An orange cardigan. Pill made me buy it because he said it depressed him to see me in black all the time. I explained I have a dark soul but it didn't work.

Um. Not that lesbians don't wear orange cardigans, I'm sure the two aren't mutually exclusive...ah, fuck it. I'm going back to the story. 

So one day Hareesh asked me about it and because I am blessed with a marvellous sense of humour - most of the time anyway - I played along. 

"Yeah, I am." I said. "But don't tell anyone. I'm not ashamed of it or anything, but I don't particularly want it broadcast to the world. I'm sort of private that way."

"No, no," said Hareesh earnestly. "I won't tell anyone. I have lots of lesbian friends. Want me to hook you up?"

I grew slightly alarmed. 

"No, no," I said equally earnestly. "I'm already in a relationship."

"With who?" said Hareesh sceptically.

"A girl called Mawii who lives in Delhi." 

"I don't believe you. I don't think you are a lesbian actually." 

So I sighed a heavy sigh and logged into Facebook. Out of sheer coincidence, my profile photo was one of Mawii and myself. And because life has its moments - her profile photo was the same as mine. And he bought it, oh, he totally bought it. 

And then he started asking me questions.

"Did you always know you were a lesbian?"

"No," I said. "I had boyfriends in school, but I didn't realise until I got to college." (Okay, so I had one boyfriend in school, but in this instance, as in most instances, boyfriends sounded better.) 

"How did you realise?" 

"Well, I was roommates with Mawii and we were together all the time, and I sort of started having funny feelings and..."

"So how did it happen?" He was looking visibly excited at this point which was a little disturbing. 

"We got drunk at this party, really drunk, and then we went home and...y'know." 

Hareesh nodded wisely even though I seriously doubted he knew. I mean, come on, he has teddy bears in his room. (He isn't gay, just effeminate.) 

"Does your family know?"

"Most of them don't, but my mother does."

"What did she say?"

"She wasn't happy about it, but she understood."


The conversation sort of ended there, but I was curious abut one thing. 


"Yes, Colourful?" (His nickname for me is Colourful, god knows why since the only non-black things I own are my cardigan and a couple of scarves.) 

"Saikat said that you already sort of thought I was a lesbian. Do I look like a lesbian?" (This is something my brother has always told me - that I look like a lesbian - though I hadn't taken him seriously until that moment.)

"No, no. You don't look like a lesbian."


"Remember that time we were drinking at Hoppipola?" 


"You got drunk and came away with three women's phone numbers."

Yup, that probably explains it. 

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

Thanks man.