Hunger

The Hunger for love is much more difficult to remove than the hunger for bread.

With the entry of Chuck and her care-taker/ house help in the family home, it’s the longest I have stayed at home. My every waking and sleeping hour has been revolving around the concern for being the one who will have to silently take the responsibility of letting go my basic movements outside the house, let alone work related – like watching movies.

There is a pleasure in this supposed pain though. I have never felt so patient and control of my words and actions, albeit a rare failure here and there. And today, the actions included staying hungry for food and a basic sense of respect for my choices, if I wanted to watch Rafael Nadal shine and win his 10th French Open Tittle.

I worked my best managing time between family dinner, looking after Chuck when no one felt like and in-between watching the match also. I couldn’t have done any better, even in the 10-15 seconds of argument with Bhai, where he as usual, shouted at me. He shows me eyes, like Mom, which only read that they are elder and I must do what they say, no matter the rights or wrongs and at times, definitely no matter my very self-respect.

I missed a lot of snacks, if not for Bhabhi who served me amidst all this. I really did not eat much dinner too, because by the time I joined, everyone was almost done and I had to be done with half of my daily diet, else I would have been eating while others finished.

The cherry in my hunger game, was listening to name calling over a genuine ant attack in living room, over a spilled sugary substance. Apparently the name calling was because Mom presumed me of being critical of ants nowadays, without even looking at real situation. However, funnily, when the truth came in front of all, there was no basic apology and in fact an add on shouting by Bhai over being royal snub to not do it myself – knowing well that he only told me to hold Chuck as all dogs were outside.

But then again, what was I thinking, because I actually smiled in my head, recalling few days old story of none between my parents accepting their fault of judging Maanji liar when they got to know over phone that their maid most probably did not come. I don’t know when the final confirmation was made about this but I did smile at learning what to unlearn if I have it in me – judgment without facts. Plus, a simple apology won’t ever make anyone small.

There is a terrible hunger for love. We all experience that in our lives - the pain, the loneliness. We must have the courage to recognise it. The poor you may have right in your own family. Find them. Love them.

I believe I am hungry for conversations but my childhood never gave me any moment for same. It was always agree to elders, blindly, even when they are wrong, and never correct them. I never understood this fake respect then, and I feel sad for never talking about it before. I guess I was weak, or maybe made to feel weak about my own beliefs.

No matter how much I exercise or eat correctly, I will never gain weight and get healthy, if I continue to be hungry for love and thereby real happiness. There is fear and pain in my relationship with my family, when it should be love. There is a limit I can live with quotes about being happy in my mind. I really need act also, no matter how smartly I may have to get.

My unknown and enrealised emotional upbringing makes it somehow a trickledown effect of my hunger for my relations with my friends. I am hungry for real friends but I get scared when life gets real, as they are not what my upbringing dictated me.

Bunny pushed me hard to talk to Ralli today and we spoke for over an hour. We spoke like regular times but I did bring the old topic again. I am guilty, PERIOD. I don’t know what was I thinking? I know I was scared but scared of what? If I am still failing at these conversations with myself; how can I ever talk clearly with anyone else.

I know history is recorded now; I just don’t ever want to do this thing again with anyone and I will be strong to never fear any conversation – it’s only then and there, as there is no right time in future. Think clearly and say what you need to say.

Love and hunger have the same Goal – Life should not Stop.

Karma is my religion but I need to know the facts to do any Karma in Life. Religion is a belief and beliefs are stronger when discussed. Discussion gives you knowledge about facts and reality and you don’t feel ashamed to apologise, as you know a simple Sorry by you will get you more knowledge, increasing your self-worth in Life.

A Happy Life, without any Hunger..

My Love Story

जो बिखरा वह नज़ारा हम सिमट गये..

हाथों में फैली लाली उठाए हम संभल गये..

शब्दों का जहाँ ठिकाना नही,

कदमों ने आज फिर रोका वहीं..

चंद लम्हों में साँस लिए,

बीते अश्क़ हम जी गये |

The Fault in our Stars

​So..

Bhai is getting married.

Dream come True, I would feel.

I am having sudden tears every time I listen to a good song to perform at Sangeet... I don't know... I feel super happy when I finalise a song in my mind... I visualise the choreography, and then smile big for some time and then I get emotional. I had tears right now while traveling in metro.

I am super happy but scared too. I know in my heart that I too will get married but I can not marry in court.

I am full Punjabi at heart and soul and am scared won't get a Lawan fere and Sangeet wali wedding. 

I know marriage is important as it's for life and wedding involves just few functions. So I should not be cribbing for a short lived stuff over a life long blessing of being married. In my mind, I am able to see myself being happily married but I still don't see my family part of my married life. It kind of scares me. That is so not what the biological punjabi child I was seeing; so what the world now has shrunk into small circles. I am still that child, I yet to psychologically grow out of my pre-third grade phase.

Sometime I say to myself that marriage should be about me and that special one whom I will call 'my guy' for life, yet I do question where did I go wrong in myself. I did not chose this, it is just who I was always when I started feeling anything about love outside the other natural relationships called family and friends. My feelings were as instinctive as my heartbeats - it's just there and don't know for how long.

I like a girl being all coy and blushing and smiling and laughing and dancing with me in couple routine. She is a gorgeous creation of God. Just recently I had the pleasure to dance with amazing girl dance on the super romantic "Enna Sona" from "Ok Janu". I still can not get her expressions and smile out of my mind. It was one which I strongly believe makes even the most heartless guys poets.

But that's it. I can try again but I know I did not feel anything beyond. One can watch a beautiful painting or even a picturesque spot, natural or man made, but sooner or later you would want to move on and take a thankful breadth which is best done when shared with someone special. It is not all about sex, but companionship and that love, after all.

I have cease to be vicarious. It's just dreams of the hearts that don't cease to leave me.

This time, that I am living, was, is and will always be one of a time; that will never repeat even for a second. And these tears, better be out that in me, no matter how painful to my body and heart. I don't want to live with them. I don't want to live with them. The fault, dear Brutus, is not in our stars. But in ourselves, that we are underlings.

I am better than an underling. I am better than this. I am a proud Punjabi and love my Big Family Life.

Family Matters... Under Pressure!!

Pressure pushing down on me
Pressing down on you, no man ask for
Under pressure that burns a building down
Splits a family in two
Puts people on streets

It's the terror of knowing
What this world is about
Watching some good friends
Screaming, "Let me out!"
Tomorrow gets me higher
Pressure on people - people on streets

Chippin' around, kick my brains 'round the floor
These are the days - it never rains but it pours
People on streets - people on streets

Turned away from it all like a blind man
Sat on a fence but it don't work
Keep coming up with love but it's so slashed and torn
Why, why, why?

Love

Insanity laughs under pressure we're cracking
Can't we give ourselves one more chance?
Why can't we give love that one more chance?
Why can't we give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love, give love?..

'Cause love's such an old-fashioned word
And love dares you to care for
The people on the edge of the night
And love dares you to change our way of
Caring about ourselves
This is our last dance, This is our last dance
This is ourselves
Under pressure, Under pressure
Pressure 

Words fall short to describe my feelings as despite under pressure from life, I get to find that the song that appeared in the movie from my graduation days is by none other that Queen, whose song "Bohemian Rhapsody" later became the very first song I adapted into a theatrical play script while I was sitting on college stairs, under pressure for my first ever College Interview.

I could not clear the admission process, coincidentally much like Matthew Kidman, the lead protagonist, and also felt letting down my parents, just like Mat.

Family matters, but so do Dreams!

Mat later did achieve his dreams; with a slight change of path, even as the dreams only developed into a better shape.

I too have dreams. They too are regularly evolving. But the journey to achievement will only be mine and I have to take chances, even if it means taking chances with Family.

How much chances will you take for your family love?

How much free can you let go for your family love?

How much family love is too much?

Who decides this "how much"?

"Family Love", it has to be the trickiest of all relationships for me; which is weird as it is meant to be the easiest and most natural of any relationship. It is always there, apparently; no matter any amount of fights and/ or bad mouthing, the blood relationship always remains as an emotional connect for the members - whether they accept it or not. The connect may fluctuate, as in "how much", but it can and will never ever be nullified. Well, at least that I would like to believe and keep my faith in.

I am a dreamer. Every now and then, I love to quote from books, movies and songs and the stories go on. The guy I am dating presently, Akshay, told me that I live by them a lot and should better look for inspiration in people around me. To that I always tell myself that I am an optimist, sometimes a way too optimist.

But the complete truth is that I do see a lot of negativity around - my parents (who are stubborn to the 'worldly fact' that they are elder to me and have reached a certain age that is beyond any change for personality), some of my closest friends and sadly at times my dates too (which especially make me wonder why really I am with them, especially after a one casual remark by my friend Manish few years ago, that their imperfections make me look better in front of them. I still can not let go of this thought as I am yet to decipher it.), but mostly inside my soul which has seen a lot of lonely moments. That is why even the bleak opportunity of seeing a ray of light from the quagmire I am tied in, I jump at that moment to seize it.

Maybe this entire negativity is in me only that I see in others because "Beauty, or as in this case negativity, lies in the eyes of the beholder".

At this moment of my thinking process, I just want to stick with the science of photography which says that, "Beautiful pictures develop from the negatives"

Being a strong believer in Karma, I accept the truth that, "God will never give you more than you can handle". So for the dark nights I have braved in my past, all alone, crying to the verge of feeling suicidal or running away, I have also been blessed with the brightest and happiest days. I never questioned the latter, then who am I to question the other side of the coin. I will never stop working on myself to attain my inner peace and remove every ounce of negativity and depression from myself. I just hope I don't let down the people who have stood by me in thick and thin.

Like the dialogue in the beautiful short "Café com Leite", "It's always hard to get used to things when they change. But in the end... Who knows?"

Just the process of expressing the little part of me above, in all its imperfections, somehow started the musical original score of the magical "UP" in my mind, with flashes of the beautiful story seemingly warming my heart.

This is who I am. I am normal and I am life, with all its days and nights. Breathing each day to grow out of every deep buried regret from life. There will always be bumps, it is for me to either feel them as important enough to sit there and repair them, losing time, or just take them as a stepping stone. I know when I will be truly happy with myself, my Karma will be truly happy for me too.

Now who decides this "True Happiness"?

I belong to a very average middle class family which aim for the skies but at the end of the day, are happy to "settle" with "adjustments". 

वक़्त से पहले और नसीब से ज़्यादा किसी को कुछ नही मिलता
कहीं ज़मीन तो कहीं आसमान नहीं मिलता
कभी किसी को मुकम्मल जहाँ नही मिलता

Like any other family, my family loves me, and so do I too. I may not have ever been able to express it to them but I will love them to eternity. But my childhood has been such that after clear thought process over the past few days, I feel I need to move out of my house, in order to save and nurture my relationship with my family. 

Why do I say so?

I am no one to judge or compare myself with anyone, for no one can ever and must never do that as it will never yield any result. But my childhood, any adolescence and my teenage life have not exactly been the picture of an average or may I say, to the risk of sounding arrogant, normal growing up years for an Indian boy.

My brother, ever since I came out to my family, has been calling me "attention seeker", any and every time he brings up my sexuality as a topic. Initially I did feel suicidal at this name calling but lately I grew past my initial outbursts and took it as a challenge on why he should feel this way. It is the exact challenge I took during my Asmita Theater days when on a  share-your-feeling kind of moment, my theater senior Pradeep Thakur called me "opportunist", or as I remember his exact words in full group presence - मौकाप्रस्त !
 

After a lot, and I mean A LOT, self analysis, I realised I like being popular. I was always popular. Just like I was always good at seizing opportunity and making the best of time.

Which brings me back to my growing up years...

I was a super hyper child. I started speaking comparatively very early, like I started crawling and even walking early. I always enjoyed being the popular child. I remember my kindergarten and junior school years where I used to get rakhi tied on both of my hands till my arms. I don't have any picture memories of same or my parents never seemed to recall for me the exact age of my first walk or my first crawl or my first word. I feel these are the things a parent must remember, preferably with a photo album, to embarrass their child. It is always a good embarrass and one every child deserve. I know I will be so loving but also embarrassing for my kids.

Now this above feeling or dream is exactly what I kind of needed to tell my difference in grwing up years.

I was fed, or may I say, I was unknowingly brought up to a very "western" style of living. My parents loved taking us out for movies but its the Hollywood films I remember mostly - well that and the Govinda movies and one Akshay starer Mohra which are responsible for my love for dance and all thing drama.

At home I loved watching the English cartoons but unlike any regular boy, I loved noticing and unconsciously picking up their lifestyles too. So the way Dexter and DeeDee responded totheir  family, school and dinner, it all slowly became a part of my ALTER EGO. And so did the characteristics of characters from Mask (his office and party style), Powerpuff Girls (their popularity and please all personality), Flintstones (the friendship of Fred and Barney), Heidi (the peaceful life up in the mountains), Spiderman (the superhero phenomenon), Cinderella (Karma), Mummies Alive (Fantasy in Reality) and Tom and Jerry (Craziness).

But it was not just the cartoons I grew up on. I used to read Tintin, at least try to, and Famous Five, Agatha Christie, Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew, plus the Archie and Jughead stories. For TV, as the dawn of Cable era began, I got glued to The Fresh Prince of Bel Air, Will and Grace, I Dream of Jeanie, Seinfield, Full House... Basically all things Zee Café...

I never saw any show in full but they did leave an impression on the vulnerable dreamy kid I was and I still am, to an extent. So even as I later started with Americal Idol or Modern Family or Glee or The Vampire Diaries, I was taking in the lifestyle.

I don't know if it is unhealthy but what is done is done. Add to that, I never really got to share the stories of these shows with anyone. Few times I did think and brood over my watching these shows, but I was alone, I was lonely, I was scared and these shows kept the dreamer in me alive. Like I said, what is done is done.

I am still a kid; the child in me is still growing up, despite the real time 27 years age. And so, I love anything and everything to grab - be it books or movies or songs. And this very child has felt that lifestyle of children moving out and struggling in real world to make ends meet, despite their parents support and money. This child needs to live that life, as this is the only life he has understood psychologically.

Which brings me to my Family again...

There was a time I blamed my family on their face in Amritsar for being a reckless parent but soon I realised they are just amateur as everyone is. It was and is and will never be their fault. They are living this life only once too and they are doing what best they can. It's just I got to experience life in a different manner but they never meant and will never will mean anything less that best for me. I am the mature one here as I understand myself. I hope one day they understand what is this maturity of me, as we live happily ever after, even if that means away from each other.

Away from each other...

I now recall two bits of this away from each other.

1) My get-away to Jaipur, and

2) My Goa Trip

Both times, it strengthened my bond with my parents, even if it was for a small period. But now, distance is required and not just vacation-distance, but Living-My-Adult-Life Distance. More than for them, I need to be selfish and live away from them, to realise my life's worth and shake off all my laziness and fears of taking chances.

Distance makes Hearts grow fonder, when there is True Love, or as in this case, Family Love. Because the High school boy in me is Under Pressure from his Best Friend aka his Alter Ego to live not just a Wonderful but also a Popular story for his Life's Yearbook aka Adventure Book, where he starts writing to finish, 

"I will always remember that... the juice was worth the squeeze."

Wedding Vows or Woes?

"Sometimes you realise the journey you've been taking has reached its final stop. So the question becomes, where do you go next."

Lord knows how this dreamy eyed kid has always loved everything about weddings. Indeed there has been time when I dressed shabbily to a wedding a child to protest, albeit silently, about my pathological need to dress up like Prince Charming at the wedding in new dress or at least all wedding-y. But I have never ever felt bad at a wedding. I always loved showering attention to the bride and/or groom and their families and even the guests, by being my charming self, even if that meant dancing, which I always did with my heart-out loud.

Weddings makes me feel good, no matter the extravagant or the simple they are. They make me feel good because it is the most joyous moment in life; it is always meant to be so, no matter the culture or generation you belong to. Bringing a life to this world in the form of a child, be it first or another number, is precious but wedding is one which is for lifetime - not even children are for lifetime; they will have to eventually move on.

Why I am being that little kid all over again?

-- The little kid who was all smiles riding the horse with his Mother's brother on his wedding, even as the kid's elder brother was too scared to do same.

-- The little kid who eventually feels he literally grew up on wedding in family to ultimately mean Delhi Cantonment Gurudwara for Anand Karaj and Lavan Phere, apart from the wedding ground opposite the Gurudwara & the Taj Group of Hotels for Wedding Receptions and all thing wedding-y.

-- The little kid who still has the first suit he ever wore, apparently at Ishu mamu's reception. I can still feel the settings of the reception, the entry gate decked with flowers, the dance floor, the relatives and my love with dance floor in my very first suit.

-- The little kid feels happy to know about the wedding of anyone, be it a celebrity. And feels a kick knowing that he is writing this on the 9th Marriage Anniversay of Abhishek & Aishwarya Bachchan - two human beings so far away from his reality but still feel happy to have lived their wedding.

-- The little kid who has growing up feeling Aww whenever he seeing a smiling couple. It's like I am all the while expanding islands of relationship-goals, Inside-Out.

That little kid is now 27 year old, attending weddings of close friends and even school junior, for whom he always felt brotherly love. He still gets a smile of affection and love from the friends and parents for being an attendee; not to mention the relatives tell him to be in other functions as "who will dance if you won't come; you dance very good."

That little kid was always responsible, for his family and for his teachers and for the neighbors and for the relatives. He was never reckless like other kids his age. He was dreamy but never careless.

In all these years, the little kid grew old in age, but being responsible and careful did made him miss out on the childhood every child is meant to live. Fall down playing, get into fight with mates, have a broken limb or nose or dark eye, throw tantrums to get gifts and toys and bags and clothes, get scolded by teacher, break furniture in school, get handed over with a yellow card (a BBPS aka my school, thing for wrong doers) light firecrackers in schools and colleges, abuse and then quickly make up with besties, be carefree, make friends in society/ neighborhood, and just be a regular child.

The little kid who missed all still lives in me and as Anant, a friend I made on social network, shared about that kid once to me, he is still not outgrowing in me for me to live my age. I do live my age, but the kid still yearns to break free.

Which brings me to the Present..

I had been down with Chicken Pox since past two weeks (almost) but the disease is over now and only the weakness remains. Yet, I did made fair time to attend Karan's Cocktail and Wedding (2 day programme) and Mahak's Sangeet last night - all in three nights in a row.

However, back from Karan's wedding last night and the random little chat on stage when Karan said, "it's your number now" ended up a huge sentence for me. I could not sleep easy last night, woke up late, only to be emotionally weak and breaking my certain wank pact to self.

Not that I don't want my number to be next, but I am scared when will it be. I am very scared.

I was down with a similar feeling after Ankita's wedding last November but the realisation of being the last single one standing with married friends really got into me after coming home and lying on my bed all alone.

Ever since my school days, I have been literally called by girls and even some of my friends aka classmates that I will be the best husband and father. I still remember one of my teacher later told me at a reunion that the faculty thought of me as the student who will be the first to get married in his batch.

It is a huge compliment and will always be for me and I am not scared to live up to it. But now as I see it, I feel my reality was way far beyond what all these people saw in me - my reality of dreams and a lot of times, nightmares.

I was all happy at Karan's wedding but ending up in despair. Why, you ask me? I guess, correction, I really want to be in that wedding chair and looking at the guests. Earlier, I felt I want a wedding, but it is the marriage I dream for. I also want to be one half of the cute couple and I am not a bad person to not deserve it. I am scared of when.

I really feel that my moment will do come. I am scared that the same kid whom everyone loves, gets alone and aloof from his society where he thrives his energy from.

I am scared I will break hearts among people I know because I am gay. I can not break hearts, for that kid loves winning hearts and he will never out grow rightly if he breaks hearts. Kids are supposed to get "Awws" and "Hugs" even in their mischief. That little kid want to, correction - need to grow old with those "Awws" and "Hugs". That little kids needs to grow old normally. And being normally does not mean ordinary. I am an extraordinary normal kid.

I will keep attending the weddings, as at the end of the day they are not meant for guests like me, but for the couple. I will feel blessed, maybe selfishly, to be a reason even for a moment of smile on the couple's and their family and friend's faces. It makes me feel happy; no matter how scared I feel. The moment is bigger that my wedding woes.

Just that I don't want to lose any of these friends. That really scares me. Especially when the universe somehow end on throwing me with a new song about the same feeling.

The song below (by "The Head and the Heart") is one I came across an emotional episode of "How I Met Your Mother" just last afternoon, while being in my most vulnerable and emotional "wedding woes" place.

A year from now we'll all be gone
All our friends will move away
And they're goin' to better places
But our friends will be gone away

Nothin' is as it has been
And I miss your face like hell
And I guess it's just as well
But I miss your face like hell

Been talkin' 'bout the way things change
And my family lives in a different state
If you don't know what to make of this
Then we will not relate
So if you don't know what to make of this
Then we will not relate

Rivers and roads
Rivers and roads
Rivers 'til I reach you

I love being all out out for my friends on their special day and always wish to make it more special for them in whatever way possible. 

Words fall short to define the song for the Ted Mosbey in me. For Ted loves all things wedding-y - He is the best man for wedding speeches, is best friend to many and is all probability, the nicest guy around. But it took him years of "Rivers and Roads" to reach his own wedding.

I know I am still traveling the "Rivers and Roads". I am just scared to fall apart in the journey; fall lonely in the journey. I can not and will not live with wedding woes; for weddings are meant to only go with vows, be it for that little kid or the 27 year old grown up.

The Wedding Vows!

Sweat and Smile

"It takes 17 muscles to smile and 42 muscles to frown"

The above quote needs no introduction and for me personally, I guess I was in school when I first encountered it. But it was only today when I really tried to test it in practical manner.

I have only very recently started giving my morning time for a good old simple morning walk in nearby park. I am not consistent with my time but I will not bow down to my bad habits. Coming back to the quote, I tried today walking with a smile on my face and boy, IT WAS TOUGH!

It got me thinking (*rolling-eyes*) that why am I finding it tough to use 17 muscles when the 42 other muscles are mostly on war-like attention mode.

Now this is my own theory... GRAVITY!!

I looked upon the faces of several others walking and jogging in park and everyone who was not talking had a frumpy look on their lips, except one (there is always an exception) who was seemingly whispering to self and smiling. It has to be Gravity that pulls down our lips, I am sure. :P

So I took a leaf out of Cam's online photography class. "SHAKE OUT MY FACE". Every time I did it for a few seconds, my face muscles got relaxed and I was able to smile better and better and for longer period. It was tough initially as I could feel a weird smile in the beginning that inadvertently got me into "Get Your Adult Braces" mode but very soon, I felt super comfortable with my smile.

I mean, how easy and simple was that and it actually made me sweat today. Simple it was, the more muscles I use, the more I sweat. I know it will not show that quickly to others but it mattered a lot to me.

*feeling like going into drama queen mode*

I have to keep patience and I am holding out to it. But only lately understood:

Patience is not an ability to wait, but the ability to keep a good attitude while waiting.

— Fact (@Fact) August 3, 2015

In the (twisted) words and style of Skipper,

Just Sweat and Smile Baby.. Sweat and Smile.. :)

The Suicide Letter

जब जब दर्द का बादल छाया..

जब ग़म का साया लहराया.

जब आंसू पलकों तक आया..

जब ये तनहा दिल घबराया..

हमने दिल को यह समझाया दिल आखिर तू क्यूं रोता है.. दुनिया में यूं ही होता है ।

यह जो गहरे सन्नाटे है.. वक़्त ने सब्को ही बाटें है..

थोडा ग़म है सबका किस्सा.. थोड़ी धूप है सबका हिस्सा..

आग तेरी बेकार ही नम है.. हर पल एक नया मौसम है..

क्यूं तू ऐसे पल खोता है.. दिल आखिर तू क्यों रोता है ।।

Its weird how I am beginning a suicide letter with a positive thought but If I may put it as a mere coincident that my phone's playlist began with same during my writing, yet no one can ever disagree that isn't every suicide letter started with the most positive light of one's life..

Dear Mom Dad..

Add to same the immense strength and great self-understanding it takes to write a suicide letter; the second greatest an individual can ever show in life, the first being at the time of the actual act of committing suicide.

However here I stand struggling to write one suicide letter of mine; all in a public declaration.

I write same, keeping in mind a very thought provoking motivational quote by Gore Vidal, an American writer and Public Intellectual (whatever the latter means):

"Write something, even if it's just a suicide note."

So here I formally, informally begin:

...

Dear Mom Dad..

I love you a lot, no matter the many times I have hated you, felt embarrassed by even your existence in my every breathing moment. You are my mom and dad and will always be my mother and father. And your undying love and wishes for me is what makes me angry and extremely temperamental in my expression of love for you and to an extent, with bhai also. I know you all love me and maybe its just not you.

Papaji, Maanji, Naniji, and by God's grace many others I am blessed with in family and friends. Like Priya, who has always been at the end of my moods, the most among all my friends and yet stood by me, wishing nothing but the world for me. And this love and bliss is what has always driven me to end my life because I am tired of not even knowing who I really am to decide how to reciprocate. Frustratingly strange indeed when I wrote in the beginning how it takes "immense strength and understanding it takes to write a suicide letter".

Ever since the past few years when I first developed HOSH in my JOSH for life, I have just wanted a normal life. Yes I have dreams and career goals but I want to be normal. And I am not able to understand what is normal to me, what is natural to me. This suicide letter germed from same insecurity; of the war in my soul to know the real and natural me.

I am living a dream career which I recognised by exploring my own strenghts and weaknesses through work and many bruised fallings but at the end of the day I enjoy my time in office to the extent that can leave workplace with a meditation state of mind, heart and soul. But as I age, I fear all wrongs I wished in anger in my life. I fear living a life from a plague thought tongue of past. I fear my sexuality taking my life. I fear being gay.

"I fear being gay."

Shocking, is what I am now feeling as I continue giving words to my thoughts. Never ever did I use this sentence, even in my worst nightmares. Then why did it came in my head to find a typed memory?

After years of struggles, from sixth standard, to be precise, to the moment before I wrote these four self-shocking words, I was thinking that I have made peace with me being gay, which is by the way just a part of my life in the gamut of emotional diversity in my character and personality. But Now I stand more tired than ever.

I am not ashamed of myself. I feel scared, disgusted from me fearing the wrongs that my true self can bring upon in questions and, God forbid, in taunts (also) to all my loved ones.

I really wish I could swing permanently in life but even after tremendous torturous periods of excruciatingly mental and physical pain (that continue till this very moment as I write), I do know this is me - not completely gay, not really gay, but just gay. And I don't want this to be the 'only me', which I feel is only possible if I let myself go from the worry.


Dear Mom Dad..

Writing this letter, my mind is inundated with the thought that truth be told I have failed in a lot of things in life but why when it comes to suicide, all my reasons for suicide are always and always falling on my most private part of life - Being Gay!

It's human nature to worry about the unknown and this feeling can never be curbed, I guess. I do also worry about the unknown as I am also human. But why is it that every time I worry about something, it is about me Being Gay at the crux of all worries.

Its like my whole life is absorbed in just these four words:

"I fear being gay."

I want to share this suicidal part of me, but not to transfer my worries but only to release my worries. For the Buddhist said it wisely, "Till we don't empty our filled cup of mind, we can not explore filling it with anything new. And anything poured in the filled cup will only spill on the sides and it will show in serving."


Dear Mom Dad..

I love you and I only wish to see you happy and proud of me. I don't know what the future holds and how much, buy my present is here for you. And its full of insecurities I have been dying to pour my heart out.

I fear driving, because I think I won't look good driving.

I fear my friends, because they were only filled with lies by me, lies which were very well crafted, to hide my true self.

I fear going out even in our neighborhood meeting the neighbor,because I think I won't be able to stand as a proud man, despite my little achievements.

I fear all our relatives, including you, Mom and Dad, because I won't be the perfect child who grew up to be traditionally married with children, upholding the family's honor.

I have started to fear my office mates because they think I am the perfect catch for a girl because of what I am in front of them but isn't half truth also a stab in the back?

I fear internet, becuase despite it giving me tremendous space to grow, I may got over the lust for sex, but I feel helpless in watching porn. I am addicted to it and it shows on my health. I watch it feeling all I am not in terms of a man. Strange but true, I fear I am not a man - even a gay man. And yet,

"I fear being gay."

Dear Mom Dad..

It was about three years back when during a documentary shoot for a gay aquaintance I realised how happy I am when I am really myself.

I had to speak in front of the camera how I feel about the straight people around me; sort of like tossing the coin on the question of how straight people feel about gays around them. I was told to be funny in my replies but oblivious to how to be funny, I just went with the flow.

By the end of my shoot - in central park - all in open, I was smiling and so were the two girls in production team, the straight cameraman who was my age and the other gay stud who was next in line to be interviewed.

I still can not recall when was a time before this moment when I felt happy about my self as I was feeling that time. I still remember even the straight camera guy became very relaxed with me after the shoot, during the lunch. It made me happy about myself/

The documentary never got made because of some unforeseen circumstances but I am glad I did muster up the courage to shoot, even though it was way more rebel than courage; for Priya and Manish did warn me of 'future' consequences if the documentary, being made for film festivals, became public.

The shoot remains one of the best and definitely the only memory I have of being "out of closet" without any fear. Then why do i fear being gay?

Dear Mom Dad..

The shoot was in April 2012. So technically it will be three whole years in three months from today since that happy memory. And thus it has been since, that I have been trying to come out. But alas sigh...

Dear Mom Dad..

You have brought me up in a very 'responsible' state of mind from my very childhood, and for that I am eternally thankful and emotionally indebted to you. So it excites me and scares me in equal and extreme level that I wish to give you all the happiness in future. It kills me every closeted moment of my life that I won't be able to give you a daughter-in-law and grandchildren in the traditional way. It kills me even more seeing bhai not doing anything to fulfill that dream from his side.

I am scared because of bhai.. but am I right to be same for him? Am I being too selfish to put the responsibilty on his shoulder or am I justified to at least expect this little from him?

I have this faith in me that I will find my true love forever. The day I will find peace with my true self, I know I will find him. Just like one of my most favorite quote for life,

“When a person really desires something, all the universe conspires to help that person to realize his dream.” 

I don't want to come out in anger and frustration, and a temporary state of mind. I want to be happy and satisfied with myself when I come out; with a genuine emotional coming of age understanding and acceptance of self.

I don't need a job security to come out.

I don't need dropping hints to come out.

I don't need my forever love to come out.

I don't need the world to be accepting of gays to come out.

I do need to drive my new car out of my garage and into the traffic, without worrying about the red lights in my path or the rash drivers who may hurl abuses on my for my driving ability and may even leave scratches on my car.

I just need to drive my car. I really do, but I am scared.

"I fear being gay."

Dear Mom Dad..

I want to share something today; something I am not able to control and is killing me, keeping me awake all night.

I feel alone in my room. Very lonely. It's like I need a hug and I don't have. I never really hugged you as a child and I have now grown up feeling an absence in me. I think of hugging you so many times but I just can not.

I feel because I was brought up listening "the responsible child" adjective for me, I unknowingly developed a shell of emotionless person who can take harsh decision even without the blink of an eye.

Mom you yourself did tell me I am heartless but I guess that is how I grew up. In obscurity, especially during my middle and high school days, alone in the second floor room - not into sports - in my dreams - and even struggling with my initial days of puberty when I could only think and feel gay.

I really used to blame you both for ignoring me and turning me gay but with better sense I really realised that it was no one's fault I am gay. I mean, I have pondered over my past to such lengths that it is futile for me to even think more about my past.

However I can do share how I have grown up as a gay person.

Phase 1: REBEL for LUST:

I started as a rebel. I was young blood. I really wanted to get the first sex thing out of my system. After a few unplanned innocent encounters with school mates and in relations, I was the sex freak who just wanted it at any cost. I like the attention I was getting from the gay circuit.

Phase 2: GREED:

The rebel streak grew into challenger when I quite literally wanted to get anyone whom I can not get by going every extreme. It was during this time when I was first proposed of love and the idea of moving in with that person with his new job in a new city (not Delhi). I got scared here and ducked that person, even though he was the sweetest. I still feel really bad about how badly I ignored him to get rid of him from my life. I wish I can wash my bad karma from this incident; I really I already have.

Phase 3: OVERCONFIDENCE KILLS:

This I would like to say the time I got a bit matured from the love incident. I started to think who I am and what do I really want for future with such a character. But the start of self observant nature brought the most painful and temperamental side of me. It really confused me; making me run for sex to punish me for my deeds. I was never happy in sex during this phase. I cried a lot, cursing Waheguru, feeling like an atheist. It really made me lose some of the golden opportunities during my stint at BVB. I could have really scaled great heights with the support of the college teachers and my friends but I failed to capitalise it. It was extremely painful.

Phase 4: FIRST TRUE LOVE:

This was after my BVB and a few freelancing work when I fell in love for the first time. I proposed him over phone, saying the most non rehearsed lines that, "you made me love those things in me which I have always hated as you love me completely." Our relationship was really short, not even a month. But it was our every night conversation which made me fell alive like I had never been. But then he cheated, I shouted in anger and pain and agony. It really felt like the end of the world.

Phase 5: NO TIME FOR SELF:

This started just after the heartbreak. I was lucky to get start my theater the very next morning of heart break night. I let go all my anger in theater, got myself completely emersed in this professional life, from weekend theater to daily round the clock 7 days a week, 365 days an year theater. Occasionally I started exploring gay party circuit, trying to find like minded persons to laugh with also. So it was all work, even the parties were extreme work..with lots of drinking and drugs (the lighter ones only) in life.

Phase 6: REALISING BUILDING CAREER:

I loved every minute of theater. It made me confident about myself, introducing me to a Guru for life, friends and team mates who never lied to me. But I had to end it to begin what I really wanted to do for life, as a career. If only wishes were horses and I could have never grown old, I would have never left Asmita. But being brought up as a "responsible child", I had a responsibility to be a man of successful career and life. So I left with the biggest lump of heart in my throat. I had decided on journalism after many lists, both in mind and on paper that had many options which were scratched to a final one. There were options like Acting, Modeling, Porn Star, Traveller and Politician that still remain on the list as I hope to achieve them with dedication and a clarity of mind. But all this took many months of self loathing, a short stint at gym, a not so happy but inspiring time at a call centre and many heated rebel moments at home.

Phase 7: FINDING LIKE MINDED by BEING LIKE MINDED:

It was a probably the most confusing, yet my first true Coming of Age Phase. Some two years after BVB, I first realised my overconfidence in my abilities and a strage relying on luck when I went for TVTMI interview without any preparation. Rahul Kanwal Sir failed me badly. But mom dad suggested ISOMES through an advertisement on News 24. I went there, along with Indian Express, cleared both with average to good self analysis but chose News 24's ISOMES for I wanted visual media. The college started good but it started falling apart, with exams and strange fight on self presentation and sexuality. I realised I wanted to be with like minded and only interacted with gay friends, even without sex. I was almost hating the straight guys. But realisation of my actions through my straight friends and teachers, all oblivious to my gay self, made me this time act on changing it all. For the first time I was being with the world in all its imperfections. I was learing and growing and not scared of failing for I knew I will only learn from even that unwanted failure. I was actually growing up normally. I made friends in college that I still love, because they accepted me in my imperfections. I started my career in journalism and earned a goodwill of hardworker, even if not the most talented. Slow and steady to not just win but even enjoy the race with my past negative self.

Phase 8: LAYING PATH FOR COMING OUT:

After an amazingly lifting phase, this one will without doubt remain the most unexpected phase of my life. Unlike in the previous phase where I wanted to stay only with gay friends and contacts for I was hating how straight people treat and mock us, in here I was hating to be in and around straight world for I was hating myself to not being myself and whom I truly am. Hating for being not being myself. Hating to lie and hide about myself, as if I am ashamed of it. All of it probably made me unconsciously feel,

"I fear being gay."

I am however fighting this fear, meeting friends and relatives by finding all the courage I can. I am struggling and I really need strength to not be a failure, else this suicide note chance of becoming my farewell letter in reality.

I really want, correction - I really need to begin my Phase 9 with all my loved ones around. I want my parents, my bhai, my friends, Papaji, Manji, Naniji, Mamu, Micky Mami, Mona Masi, Lady Maasi and everyone - all in the pink of their health. I dont want to lose anyone. I am scared but I am really praying. Please Babaji.

Dear Mom Dad..

This letter has become quite a long one, but what is this meek length in front of the more than 26 years of my life, which today stands at 9671th Day of my Life. I need to do a lot of things but I need patience more to do everything right and just. Forgive me everything for the past; I really love you.

“Everyone believes the world's greatest lie..." says the mysterious old man.
"What is the world's greatest lie?" the little boy asks.
The old man replies, "It's this: that at a certain point in our lives, we lose control of what's happening to us, and our lives become controlled by fate. That's the world's greatest lie.”

Dear Mom Dad..

You will always be loved. Please forgive me for taking this step. The Phase 9 may be OUT PHASE but for a 10/10 with Phase 10, I know it will be FORVER LIFE.

Please forgive me. I don't want to feel nervous, ashamed, disgusted. This suicide note is my heart to you, which loves you a lot, no matter how rarely I may have said so to you in person. If I able to think even this much, it's because you are my parents. Sorry for letting you down in any and every way possible. I never really breathed for it.

Your son

Bhavdeep Singh Chadha