Jaipur - Pink City Indeed.

I’ve lived in Jaipur for a few years. Enough time to get to know the local gay crowd in a rather intimate manner. And it had been a terrible experience – and a wonderful one at the same time. I mean, I did fuck around a lot, and got to understand the eccentricities of the gay scene there – and that’s what I wanted to share.

Jaipur is gay! I mean – I’m saying it. If you know the right places to find people, the right parks to hang around, even cruising spots and theatre halls, Jaipur has it all – it’s gay as hell. I mean it’s called the Pink city right? So there’s this website called guys4men. It’s been rechristened gayromeo or something, but I’ve not used that account for more than a couple of years now. Anyways. So you sign up for free and viola – instant gay hook-ups. But wait – not without the speed-bumps; the hiccups.

So you log on and people either have a fake pic, or have their dick/undie pics or a pic taken in such a vague manner that all you can use it for is to make out that it’s the profile of a human. And once you start chatting – you’ll get used to the proverbial “Hey Dear, do you have a place?” That’s the first thing guys will ping you with. I mean, who the hell says ‘Hey Dear’ in India? And that too in real conversation? And I used to really dislike the whole ‘Do you have a place?’ come on. I mean, I know I’m on a site for hook-ups, (though it says it’s for personals and finding true love as well – Ha! Good luck with that!), and I know that while women need a reason and a proper person to have sex with, men just need a place, but still…

My good friend AJ (I’m gonna use only his initials otherwise his mom would spank his 25 year old ass if she finds out what he’s been doing), used to cringe at my behaviour.
“Why the hell do you need them to speak good English?” he would ask. “All you wanna do is fuck! So why the hell do you want some suede sophisticated dudes?”

“It gives me a sense of security!” I would wail, though I knew my hypocritical ass had been handed over to me on a platter.

But anyways, Jaipur was one helluva place. Kinda good and kinda bad as well. With the high influx of foreign tourists, there would constantly be Jaipurites clamouring to get some Firang action. And since the local fag population (or should I say online fag population – yes, I’ve reached a point where I am comfortable with calling myself a fag!) wasn’t that high, Everyone had slept with nearly everyone – I mean you;ve heard of 6 degrees of separation? Ha! that cnebarely define it. Jaipur gay scene is more like 2 degrees of PENETRATION. And what’s even better (or worse) is that everyone knows who’s slept with who. Talk about efficient grapevines! And everyone used fake ID’s and names. And EVERYONE is deep in their closets. I mean REAL deep. This whole sex / gay thing is kind of a dark secret they would never let out. (can you sense some hypocrisy again?) I mean between me and AJ, we had a listing that covered who was there on the scene and who wanted to join in, who had taken it up the bum from who, who was how big (I’m not talking age here), and who ives the best blowjobs, and who was using a false name even though he knew that others knew that he knew that…. You get the picture. It was awful. But you’d still find me prowling around for a new fuck every other week.

But then that was also the place I met AJ. And we’ve shared an amazing friendship since. And despite what one might think, there’s been no transfer of bodily fluids between us. I mean if there are 2 fags and they’ve known each other a long time, they must have fucked right? Nope.

So anyways, that was just a background to the pink city – and where I’ve spent countless nights waking up in strange beds. But more on that and more graphic details for another post.