Tuesday, December 30, 2008

Queen

"To tell you the truth...you talk in a vry queenish way...its a bit off ptting..."

I got this as a text message from some random guy in Goa, who I'd been texting for exactly 2 weeks before I decided to put a stop to the whole thing. Did it sting? Ofcourse! But it also got me thinking about me...

I have a voice which is quite unique. Its not the usual rich baritone that others of my age have. For some reason God decided to bless me with a voice which is thin like a woman's (copy of my mum's voice acutally).

Almost everytime that I speak I public I have gotten the "look". I have been made fun of, jeered, laughed at, ridiculed, irritated and sometimes admired and appreciated for my vocal capabilities.
More often than not if someone unknown was to call me, they'd think that its a woman on the other end of the line, thereby sometimes offering me the chance to get away from pesky phone calls

"Hello...am I speaking with Mr XXX?"
"Who's this?"
"Am calling from XXX Bank ma'am, I was wondering if I could talk to him about a credit card?"
"Oh..no no..he is in the shower please call after an hour"
"Oh Sure, thanks!"

...and sometimes causing great delay in me accessing important information..like from my bank account!

"...I dont think you're Mr XXX"
" I just gave you all the info about my bank account including my secret password..."
"Yes but still am not convinced"

But for everything I've never ever, even once wished I had a voice different than others. If anything I have been proud of this natural gift that I have, having defined me in many ways.

But that one sms tonight really did sting and for the first time in my life am considering trying to change my voice, begin smoking or something maybe...get in the set pattern everyone has for the world. Belong somewhere.

I think am a bit tired of fighting and ignoring all the barbs thrown at me.

Maybe its just better to be 'one of them'.

Thursday, December 25, 2008

Just Me

They say I should go out more often, put my profile back up again on networking websites, go to parties and meet men. I would find that someone I so desperately seek.
The truth is I am scared to do that. I am scared of doing that failing, like I have before. I am not pretty or muscled or look the way guys who get dates do. I am average and have been okay with the whole fact. What I am not okay with is the loneliness which comes along with it.

I have friends, those who call sometimes to talk about problems which affect them or things which bother them or address or phone numbers which they need. No ever calls to just ask how I am doing. To ask me if I, the me is okay. They all see my face, the calm composed and very rational and precise guy and stop right there.

He should be fine, he is not crying, he is not lamenting or is laughing. The truth is am alone. More alone than I have ever been in my life. I live two lives, one which everyone wants to see and the other I live when am not laughing or talking with others. I wonder what is the point of it, having any of thes people on my phonebook, on my messengers, on my facebook, on my outlook.

I run to escape my life everyday. And then realise that I can't so fail.
And fall.
Everday.

Sunday, December 14, 2008

Sex

"Are you sure?"
"...no...but it doesn't really matter, I wanna see what its like?"
"...hmm..don't worry you're going to like it"
That's how the conversation began in the front seat of the car. All that was really needed now was just a quiet corner in the parking lot for a little over ten minutes.

"what if someone came?..dont look down, you keep a watch out"
Casual encounter was the easiest way to describe the incident, only that the causalness of it was so exciting that it kept on happening for a while. A long while. There were parking lots, deserted streets, blind alleys, parks and once a deserted bunglow.

Wether he was attracted to me or I was, it is a bit hard to say. It was the convinence of the whole arrangement perhaps. We weren't the most beautiful of people have these secret rendevouzs, we were just two very medicore and very desperate people who were hungry. After knowing that, that one person who is supposed to change your life, might not actually come in life, we decided to turn to the next person we could find. Him. And Me.

I didn't even know if he was infact straight, gay, bi, curious or just horny. In anycase these labels mean very little to me, having at times not even seen the faces of those who I did the unmetionables with. And yes, I was safe.
But why am I talking about him so much tonight, because I saw him at the party.

We ignored each other. And no, there was no sex. Not anymore.

No More!

Its been a while since I have been a regular at the page 3 circuit and as much I hoped not as someone who is invited as a guest though, strictly for work purposes. It was super exciting in the begining to see all these celebrities so to speak, the designers, the movie stars, stylists, socialites, businessmen, bouncers and ofcourse the toy boys.

But lately all of the same people who I was excited to be with, interview or get answers from, have been the reason for my nausea. The levels of Botox and the number of facelifts and the amount of makeup has simply just put me on a bit of a back track, making me the odd one out at these uber cool events. I dont even know the point of organising them. Hell, I doubt even the organisers dont seem to know the point most of the times!

Like the brown skinned drunk bimbette who I met tonight said(taking me to be someone who she'd brrowed a book from) "Oooh...how lovely darling, I wish there was some more real people here, you know some of those stylists from magazines...its would be nice to see some prettiness!"
So, the reality of this is that there is nothing real about these 'real' people and I am just sick of them. Period.