Married Gay Men.

Oh yes. We’ve all heard a lot about them. Every second article in the international press about homosexuality in India, even ones talking about the repeal-ment of 377 talk about millions of gay men being trapped in marriages in India. And believe it or not, I am dead against sleeping with married men too. And just for that I had limited the age barrier for my tricks to be at most 26. Ok, ok, 28 if the guy appeared well-spoken and produced a good pic (which would turn out to be a picture taken 10 years ago in most cases). I also would not fuck anyone younger than me – I was mostly scared I would end up with a 16-17 year old and then I would REALLY by doing something wrong.

So there’s this time I was meeting this guy in a hotel room for a sleazy encounter – in good ol’ Jaipur. And I had spoken to him a couple of times over the phone - which is twice as much as I had spoken to most guys over the phone before I met them – and then I met him at McDonald’s near Raj Mandir. And even though he looked much older (and a lot, ahem, different) from the photo he had passed on to me over the internet, I had this severe case of blue balls and followed him. He said he was 28 – that was probably true.

So then I went to his room and things started getting a little hot and steamy and we started making out and my shirt slipped off and he started sucking my nipples (God, I love that!) and I threw my head back and sighed. And then a thought intruded my ecstasy. “Dude, are you married?” I suddenly asked.

He paused the flicking off his tongue (and I missed it immediately) and responded immediately. “Of course not!”

A smile replaced my worry and I tilted my head back again as his talented tongue went back to what it did best. “I am engaged though.”

I gulped. And then I slinked away, much to his surprise. I scooted over and quickly stared getting back into my clothes. “I’m sorry!” I said, “I can’t do this!”

He looked annoyed. “You’re leaving coz I’m engaged?” he asked angrily. And when I didn’t reply he asked in a softer tone. “I shouldn’t have revealed that right? Then we would be fucking in ignorance right now.”

I left, slamming the door. Back near Raj Mandir I hastily caught an auto and headed back. And then I felt a little bad about my sudden exit. I texted him – “SORRY 4 LEAVING LIKE THAT. HOPE U UNDERSTAND”

He texted back – “I UNDERSTAND COMPLETELY. SO YOU’LL COME BACK FOR SEX?”

Boy, was I peeved!

So my straight friends, who have an ancanny interest in hearing all about my tricks found out later and I later had an argument with a friend of mine who actually supported my soon-to-be-married trick.

“It’s not his fault Saumi!” my friend wailed, “You were his only outlet.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to do things for him!” I shouted back. “If he wants an outlet so badly he can go buy one!”

So what is with Indian gay guys and marriages? I knew tonnes of people in Jaipur in their 30’s and 40’s and even older, who would sneak out to fuck around with a guy. I know – we’re in a background where the majority of the population still doesn’t even UNDERSTAND the word gay, but still – lying and living a double life like that? Hmmm. Maybe I don’t understand the situation well enough, but lying and deceiving and infidelity like that – not my cup of tea. (I know this statement is gonna bite me in the ass later – remember the whole hypocrisy thing?)

Kinda brings me back to the discussion I had with my parents (or lack thereof) When I came out (or rather was found out in a rather embarrassing situation), I made one thing clear – that whatever happened, I was not getting married and ruining some poor girl’s life – and this too when I was 16 – boy, was I wise when I was younger!

Anyways – saw a bunch of movies on the same topic (though not with an Indian context) – always end in tragedy. You can check out Segunda Piel (spanish), Le Fate Ignoranti (spanish as well) few others I can't recall...

As for my own blue-ball crises at that time, I guess I solved it the next day with some unmarried non-committed guy the next day – or maybe with my own right hand.

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.