JADOO ZINDABAD!!!

I had several mutual friends with Jadoo at Facebook form a long period of time but we never really added each other. I didn't know him much but all I can sense from his statues or comments posted here and there at Facebook told me that he's a very respectful human with liberal and secular approach towards life. He will never rub his religiosity into people's face while having a discussion and will always draws analogy from humanism. Whenever, there will be any incident of discrimination or violence, against any one, from any one, he will always be there, unapologetically voicing his thoughts against it.

Though that wasn't enough to impress me because I know and have seen many online activists who talk and talk, accuse every one under the sun and will use all the possible 'shoulds' in the world just to show how much they care for issues and people, but sadly only online. Because when it's about getting together and working for it, they will have some personal commitment or professional liability to fulfill but will promise to come back with unlimited zeal, once again only online.

So, I thought he's one from that bunch of 'online activists,' but I was mistaken. As we become friends online, I came to know that's it's not like that. Being raised in a conservative and traditional family, and the way he has taken a shift from the tradition perspective calls for an everyday battle. He haven't told me so but I am assuming that his family might have been giving him a tough time, because that's what happened with me and it's still going own.

In Pakistan, people with secular and humanist mind set have to start waging battles from their own homes before going out and speak what is right at human level, instead of following any religious, cultural or social standards.
The way he denied to sign the document for his passport renewal, which was declaring Ahmedi community non-Muslims and the arguments he had with a renowned bookstore of Pakistan to remove anti-Ahmedi community books from their shelves is pretty amazing.
So, having such a strong and humanist ideological approach, we really get along with each other. Moreover, having an actually mature and sophisticated taste in music and art, made him even a more appropriate person to hangout with.

Another thing which I want to mention is that he neither tried to convert or discriminate me when I came out to him. The respect and the impeccable understanding he bestowed upon me was beyond my expectation. Though he was curious about the dynamics of gay sub-culture, and I instantly gave him a crash course in it as well as in Punjabi language and turned every stone up to ruin his sophisticated Urdu, which I was unable to do so far, but as they say, you never know.

So, I have been looking forward to meet him on my Karachi visit but when most of my so called 'friends' got issues and denied to see me, I started thinking that now he wouldn't be meeting me also. I was wondering that my own community members denied to see me than how can he would be comfortable in meeting me. And I mentioned that to him but he didn’t change his mind. I even tried to explain that I am out to many people and a LGBTQI activist who might earn him a bad name, so he should consider about his repute but he gave me shut up call and planned to meet me.

We met at dinner time and first thing I noticed was that he looked much younger than his profile photo and then I hugged him. He was wearing a black polo t-shirt and blue jeans and I asked him, "Do you know what you are wearing?"
And he replied in his dignified typical Karachi style Urdu, "Matlub"?
"I have heard that there's a gay group in Karachi meeting regularly at Farrer Hall and when one is going there first time, he has to wear black t-shirt and blue jeans as a dress code."

And I started laughing and poor Jaddo joined me with his embarrassed laughs.
We went to a fancy restaurant at Zamzama Boulevard. It was a tiny yet comfortable restaurant and we started off with a potato soup. I never liked soups but he insisted and I thinking of trying some Karachi stuff complied and amazingly I found that potato soup really yummy. After that I asked him to order something having rice and white sauce in it. It has always been very hard for me to order anything, so every time I go out to eat something, my friends order for me, after I tell them what I want in general, like rice, chicken, pasta, etc. It was a yummy food indeed. Really yummy. We talked about our mutual friends at Facebook, about life, activism and life in general. I also registered my protest to him that since my arrival at Karachi, I hadn't seen any handsome guy which is highly objectionable. To which he started laughing and said, "Acha! aisa hai."

Then we went for dessert and I ordered a cone of some weird flavor, which I have never had in Lahore before. Then we roamed around here a there while talking and talking and he dropped me at my rest house. He also gave a wonderful book along with a magazine I asked him once and I was so much amazed about that. I never mentioned that magazine again to him and it wasn't on my mind when I reached Karachi, even when I was going to meet him, but he was so thoughtful that he brought it anyway. It was a really nice hangout which rejuvenated me out of all my day long, tiring work.
Next day, we once gain met and this time we went for a desi food and had some yummy chicken gravy at Boat Basin, while sitting on traditional takhts. It was Sindh's culture day as well and people were celebrating it on the road, while dancing on Sindhi tunes, in ajjraks. It was nice to see all this cultural exhibitionism while having food. It was also a really nice hang out yet again.

Jadoo's hospitality, respect and understanding are worth mentioning. My trip to Karachi wouldn't have been so much fun without him. And it's also an honor to meet an individual of such a pure heart and transparent personality who is though grounded in his culture and traditions yet so much reasonable and humane in his approach that one keeps on wondering how he got that balance. His tolerance and forbearance are the most shinning characteristics of his personality I wish that if we can have many more people like Jadoo, then Pakistan will become a progressive and tolerant society, which willn't marginalize any Christian, Shiite or Ahmadi Muslim, under privileged class or queer. A big hug for Jadoo.

Photo Courtesy: Google

PHUNKO ZINDABAD!!!

I came to know of Phunk Factor (Phunko) when he started commenting on my articles in Chay magazine, several moons back. He seemed to have a rational and secular approach towards the issues which other people might interpret in a religiously orthodox manner. So, after sometime, out of nowhere, I thought of looking up for him on Facebook and send him in a friend request. While searching him, I realized that he's actively writing blogs, which was a pleasant surprise. I still remember when I found out about his blogs very first time, I remained glued to my PC and by the end of almost two hours, I had read most of his romantic encounters and experiences and I was like 'Wow'. I could never imagine that anyone can actually write so openly about gay politics and subjective romantic/sexual experiences in such an open and blatant way, without any scruples. Reading his posts made me a bit embarrassed as well as excited at the same time. I was behaving like those self proclaimed morally righteous bitches who love to gossip but while chanting 'tauba tauba' at the same time.

After he accepted my friend request, we started talking, texting, emailing and tagging each other in various links at Facebook. Adding him also earned me a plethora of individuals at Facebook who wanted to be 'friends' with me. But that's another story, which I post some other day. Initially when I started talking to him, I was kind of skeptic about him because of two reasons. One, he was younger than me and in my experience, younger gay guys with somewhat LGBTQI awareness acts too immature when it’s about activism in Pakistan. Two, he was so much Burger that I thought I wouldn’t be able to relate to him in any way. He talks in English most of the time, and that’s also with an accent and I just can't bear so much English. I am desi guy who uses English out of necessity but in spite of these two reservations, I continued to be in contact with him and slowly and gradually I discovered the real Phunko who's so simple and pure of heart. Moreover, now as I look back and try to make sense out of our friendship then I think that apart from other reasons and rationales, it was GLEE also which help us to bond with each other.

Though we did have few differences but through our maturity, mutual respect and value for each other, we went through difficult times. I guess every relation has to go through this process, which actually testifies the credibility and durability of the relationship. We were two different people with two different cities and cultures in different fields but writing for same cause, LGBTQI community and that conquered all. The guy who used to be a gentleman started calling me "Didi, Baaji and Khusri" and other G-talk terms (call it Gay talk, it's an informal desi slang kinda sexually explicit and fun oriented style and mannerism apart from being a language). He was opening up to new ideas imported from Lahore and I was making myself at ease to write about my intimate encounters, as openly and honestly like Phunko. He was an inspiration in that regard.

Phunko always make me feel energize and happy and fortunately without any Khusri Drama (gay melodrama). Unlike majority of the gay men, he didn't have any emotional or psychological hiccups; any leftover (ex) in his mind, low self esteem issues or delusions of grandiose, he seemed quite grounded and comfortable in his skin for being what he is. And that's make him even more hooottttt. We had always wanted to meet each other and after more than a year I got this opportunity to visit Karachi, his hometown, to meet my online brother, friend and inspiration.

He was hell busy with a lot of things going on in his personal and professional life and I had few days with a lot of work to do as well. But still we reassured each other of meeting one another and as he put it, "It will a benchmark in the history, Hadi Hussain LGBTQI activist and blogger is meeting equally genius blogger Phunk Factor, Lahore meeting Karachi." I laughed at the way he put that thing into words but actually on a serious note, it was like that. Though I did have the fear that like many other Karachities, he might just ditch me in the end but he met me in real.
Despite time constraints and professional liabilities, we both managed to meet each other, once, for lunch. I have always objected at Phunko for meeting up guys in malls and paradoxically we both ended up meeting in a mall. As I got out of rickshaw in front of the mall, I saw a cute little guy waving his hand with a big smile. Though I had seen him virtually, but still the experience to see him very first time in real life was so much exciting. After showing off my khusri walk across the road I wen to the Phunko the hero, who was wearing a blue superman tee-shirt. We hugged each other and then tucked into the mall after letting guards put their dirty hands on us (for security reasons you know, off course you know we are sex bombshells).

Now if you ask me how he was, then I will straight (though it's really hard for me to be but still) away say that he was simply adorable. There was a certain innocence wrapped in wit which made him an outstanding guy. We went through all the floors of the mall, while chatting and posing in front of movie flexes and posters. Worth mentioning photo was in front of the poster of Desi Boys (Bollywood movie) in which I tried to kiss semi nude John Abraham. After cruising around on not so hot guys (I told Phunko that I haven’t encountered a single hot guy in his city, and that's a shame) we decided to have a meal, thus we ordered stuff and once again sharing mouth watering gossips, along with heart to heart emotional stuff.

After the food, we ordered some dessert suggested by Phunko and it was really awesome. I don't know it was chocolate rush of the dessert that I started singing "Oh la la, tu hai meri fantasy" along with all the "ahhh ahhh" (rather adding few more ahhhhhs at different places as well) and Phunko was like "stop it bitch" as it was obviously audible to the people around us. Though he thoroughly enjoyed it and asked me to mail him a recording of the song in my own voice. We talked about our friend Aaron Khan and decided to make him jealous of the blast we both had together.

Although I so much wanted to spend some more time with Phunko but I had to run back to my work so I resigned and hugged my adorable little friend and got on a rickshaw. I was really happy and satisfied after meeting Phunko which made me think that at least some Karachities are real and who didn’t try to pretend someone else. He made me believe in him as well as in the goodness of real people and I'll always cherish that feeling. The comfort level we used to have online or at phone was there and without any reservation we were communicating. It wasn't as if I was meeting some alien who I was hardly aware of. I suppose we were never masked since our very first interaction and that's the reason we really got along well with each other.
Thanks Phunko for being who you are, and for the respect and love you have showed towards me, especially when others were having a cow. Bear hugs for you.

Photo Courtesy: Phunk Factor

Karachi and its Disasters

Last weekend I was in Karachi and it was a memorable experience in many aspects. What started off as a professional research based trip turned out to be quite surprising and full of insight in personal sphere as well. Apart from my work, I was so much excited and looking forward to meet all my Facebook friends in Karachi who were desperately waiting to hang out with me. Before starting off with the actual events and the friendliness of my friends in question, let me tell you that I have never been attracted to Karachi, the city. All I know about Karachi is that it’s a city full of street crimes and every day is like a battle field where survival is difficult. Other than that, this city inhibits few of my intimate partners and we broke up in nasty manner. Then there's a guy, the only guy in the entire world, I hate unconditionally, is also a Karachite. Therefore I didn't have any reason to like Karachi apart from my online friends.
In this post I am going to write about the negative experiences with Karachi Facebook friends. The real drama with these friends started as soon as I announced my trip to them.


CASE1: A guy who used to count me as his very close and dear friend, who has asked about me and my life, contact information and all that, with whom I have talked and chatted for hours and hours, who had planned to send a birthday gift to me since August, and who has always insisted me to visit Karachi as soon as possible asked me, just a few days before my visit, "Can I trust you.?" And I was like, "Ask your heart." To which he texted, "But my heart does make mistakes at times, that's why I am asking you." I replied, "I don't know, it's your decision." No further exchange of texts on this issue, though we texted each other few times after that in which once I told him that I 'llnt see him.
He didn't contact me during my visit to Karachi and neither did I. So, that's the end of an apparently beautiful and bosom online friendship (pun intended). I was really hurt when he posed that question; I mean I can understand that he a closet shit hole who has billions of issues but then why the fuck he was always so pressing on meeting and all that?


CASE 2: I know this guy from almost a year and he's very much dear and close to my heart because I can see a younger Hadi Hussain in him. His on-going conflict between his sexual orientation and religious affiliation reminds me of my struggle with the same issues when I was of his age. We both confided in each other and really think that we are really good friends. Though I have issues and strong prejudice about him for being an Aquarian (sorry but my bitter life experiences have made me so) but still I couldn't leave him alone in his struggle, (the humane bitch inside me). Before this visit, I had plans to visit Karachi but it was never materialized. At that time, he clearly refused to see or meet me because he is also a closet shit hole and don't even want to see another queer, (he's extremely closet at facebook as well, though I was privileged to have his contact information and to see his pics, which I never asked for by the way). I was really taken aback at that time and the residual feeling was still there, so I planned to give him a surprise this time. I told him that I 'llnt meet him because of his reaction last time. (By the way his gift was also scheduled in the August, which I haven't received yet). So, I started this pretense but as I reached Karachi, I called him daily several times, in order to check whether he's at his place or at work and most of the times he ignored me calls or texts and at others sounded so grumpy that I never told him that I really wanted to see him. But on my last day in Karachi, I called him up and straight forwardly asked him to see me to which his reaction was "rehnay do ab". Latter he texted and showed interested in meeting up. We fixed a spot and I took a rickshaw (three wheeler ride) and went off but on my way he texted me saying that he's having panic attacks, palpitations and all that and couldn't meet me. And I was left with "Ok Tc". It wasn't in my wildest nightmare that I would receive that kind of treatment from him.


CASE 3: This guy I presumed as queer but told me otherwise, has been quite a mental fuck. He used to talk and debate over issues of social and political importance and of queer politics and all that. He was also determined to take me to show his hospitality and his city but before my arrival at Karachi, I realized that he's extremely homophobic and ready to wage war against every queer in Pakistan, though his profile has hundreds of queers, even those 'ready to squeeze your tool' kind of sleazy guys who I can never add to my profile, even being a gay myself; with whom I have a number of only queer mutual friends; and who's so much anonymous at his facebook profile that he never posted any face pic of himself (internalized homophobia!!!)So I decided not to contact him myself during my visit and he also didn’t bother to do so. Well I wonder how can a person like him can confide in a filthy sinful obnoxious gay guy is still a mystery yet to be solved.

Analysis and Profiling:
• All three of them use Khan at the end of their pseudonyms.
• All three of them are religiously conservatives (rather bigots).
• All three of them are perpetrators of homophobic.
• All three of them avoid confrontations and debates.
• All three of them display very good and generous nature, though which proved to be otherwise.
• All three of them are closet shit holes.
• They can aptly be called "Real Housewives of Karachi" after taking in account of their manipulative and cunning nature.


Photo Courtesy: Peter Kas

US embassy’s pride celebrations in Islamabad: More damage than support

In accordance with the US President Barack Obama’s May 31, 2011 GLBT Pride Proclamation that, “we rededicate ourselves to the pursuit of equal rights for all, regardless of sexual orientation or gender identity,” US Ambassador for Pakistan, Richard Hoagland and members of Gays and Lesbians in Foreign Affairs Agencies (GLIFAA) hosted an event declared as ‘Islamabad’s first ever Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, and Transgender (GLBT) Pride Celebration’ on June 26, 2011 in the Federal Capital of Islamic Republic of Pakistan. This high profile event was reportedly attended by 75 people including Mission Officers, U.S. military representatives, foreign diplomats, and leaders of Pakistani LGBT advocacy groups who showed their “support for human rights, including LGBT rights in Pakistan at a time when those rights are increasingly under attack from extremist elements throughout Pakistani society”.

Unthankfully, all the sensational and flowery claptrap peddled around this event turned out to be a disaster for the budding underground Pakistani LGBT movement as the US Embassy conveniently oversaw the repercussions this event would have brought in an already critical country which is fighting against terrorism and radicalization while sacrificing its peace, its liberty, its sovereignty and countless lives of its law enforcement agencies and civilians alike.


Ambassador Richard E. Hoagland greets guests at GLBT Pride celebration on June 26, 2011. Photo via islamabad.usembassy.gov. The US embassy posted a statement on its website saying: "This gathering demonstrated continued U.S. Embassy support for human rights, including LGBT rights, in Pakistan at a time when those rights are increasingly under attack from extremist elements throughout Pakistani society.
Within a few days, the streets of major urban cities of Pakistan namely Islamabad, Karachi and Lahore were hailed with the students and political workers of Jamaat-e-Islami, a religious political party, chanting slogans at their highest pitches against homosexuals and America. For them it was a golden opportunity to kill both ‘the evils with a single stone’. Banners were displayed in major cities, especially in the federal capital, within a few days demanding persecution of gays and accusing Americans of propagating and imposing this ‘westernized’ idea. The lash back didn’t remain limited to the Jamaat-e-Islami only but sooner most of the political parties joined this bandwagon to form a coalition against the government for their menial political interests.

On the other hand, the Pakistani media, especially the local Urdu newspapers and channels dealt with the issue with their usual approach i.e. lacking all the required sensitivity and knowledge to handle this crucial issue. Their sole concern was to raise their TRP’s and circulations and that’s all. Although a few liberal and sensible voices were raised through articles by Nuwas Manto, Hashim bin Rasheed, Marvi Sirmed and Mohsin Sayeed but most of these were published in English dailies or in their online o-peds and blog sections while leaving a huge void for majority Urdu readers. There was a dire need to represent a sensitive and sensible portrayal of the issue in the Urdu media to counter the venomous articles and hate speeches by Orya Maqbool Jaan, Aamir Liaquat and Ibtisam Elahi Zaheer, who not only openly condemned homosexuals but also denounced them as sinful, non-Muslims, lesser than human beings and demanded capital punishment for them with full zeal.

Meanwhile, our media circulated and aired all this hate speech while completely overlooking its ethical and social responsibilities. I guess it’s high time that our mushrooming news channels and newspapers start differentiating between free speech and hate speech because without it, they are only damaging the fabric of an already complex and fragile society.

This unnecessary brouhaha by our sensational media started not only an untimely debate in our society but also in our households. I had never heard my mother, an ardent Urdu daily follower, having any strong stance against anyone, say it a murder, a rapist or a dacoit but one day she said, “All homosexuals should be stoned to death.”

Being a gay, living in Pakistan, from a traditional Muslim family background, it was already an ordeal to be myself but after this US Embassy triggered media frenzy things have turned even worse. The people I am out to, are now looking at me with a different perspective. They either consider me an undercover CIA agent with hidden agenda to ‘westernize’ the cultural values of Pakistan or look as if declaring that when the rogue mullahs will come and deliver me from my deadly sins, they will religiously mind their own business. This isn’t solely my own story but of several completely out or partially out queers in Pakistan. On the other hand one can imagine the suffering and tension of all those unheard, closeted voices, which were already afraid of coming out and pretending to be ‘normal’. The level of concern and uneasiness resulted from this highly inefficient and implausible event has made them even more vulnerable at the hands of the society, which is always ready to prosecute anyone different.

Surprisingly, it has also been reported that US embassy which claimed to “support LGBT rights in Pakistan” isn’t going to entertain LGBT Pakistanis for asylum. It’s as if that after starting a storm in the cocktail, they are also having an easy way out.

After talking to several local LGBT activists I have gathered two main stances regarding this whole fiasco and the future of Pakistani LGBT movement. A very small number of activists suggested that this event should be considered as a golden opportunity to come out formally and launch a full blown LGBT movement in Pakistan, after we had missed a similar opportunity in 2007 at the time of Shazina-Shumile case. On the other hand, the majority of the activists opined that it’s very sensitive and crucial time to come out and it’s better to remain underground for the survival of this movement. Change can be brought slowly and gradually, in safe and calculated ways. The recent incident where a young LGBT activist Falak Ali of Neegar Society was severely beaten up by the mullahs in the streets of Multan, a southern Punjab city, in the presence of police is just an example of the reaction of the public about this whole issue.

Still, Pakistani LGBT activists are hopeful and determined about the future of LGBT movement in Pakistan and they strongly believe that whenever there’s going to be any LGBT movement in Pakistan, it will be most definitely by Pakistani people for Pakistani people. No one else can decide or force the time for what and when we need to emancipate ourselves from the restrictions of the heterosexist society. We can have allies and support from other international organizations but the primary reinforces and stakeholders will be ourselves. Let’s hope for the times when Pakistani LGBT movement will be in full swing and our government will start accepting the existence of Pakistani LGBT.

(The Article was published in the July-August, 2011 issue of Gaylaxy magazine.)
Photo Courtesy: Google

Dear Maddy

Dear Maddy

You have no idea how much excited I was to meet you. For the very first time, I was going to see you in flesh and blood, and anticipating a more tangible association, which used to be a virtual connection several moons back. I was hell curious to see and know the guy with whom I had a four month virtual romance. I had several plans in my mind to make our day memorable, many things to talk about, many jokes to crack, many places to visit, many meals to eat, but as I came out of cab and you welcomed me formally without a smile, I thought I didn’t know you.
It seemed as if somebody else had disguised himself to be you. From there onwards, it was a journey of unsaid discomfort which was evident from every movement of your body. And I was going through it and I knew you were also living it and I was thinking why you came to see me? Was it a courtesy gesture, some vow you had taken or just a wrong decision you made in fit of a moment? Let me tell you that, seeing you in discomfort was making me feel guilty as if I had forced you to see me at gun point.
You were wearing blue, blue’s my favourite. Did you still remember that? I looked into your eyes while we were having cold coffee and there was everything except recognition. Did you know, you checked your cell 37 times precisely in our 2.5 hours long meeting? Did you know how many times I checked mine? Not for a single time. You were so aloof, so lost, so far away from me then that I was getting embarrassed. I had thought that we both had grown up since the break up and all the sour experiences and emotional damages have already been claimed and sorted out so for once in life, we could meet each other as nice friends. But you were not in the right state of mind to cherish all those happy memories of our virtual romantic past.
I wasn’t happy when you left me at the door step of that Sea View KFC all by myself as you had some stuff to do. I wanted to say, “Maddy! Look at me, this me Hadi, the same Hadi you used to love and wanted to meet so badly. For whom you were ready to die. I am the same Hadi man, just look at me for once. Don’t I count anymore? Doesn’t the twinkle of my eyes fascinate you any longer? Why, my million dollar smile, which used to get your attention easily, is unable to convince you to look at me, today?”
But I remained silent. I was feeling bottled up like a fizzy drink of confused emotions, potentially lamenting over the stale love once existed between us. For once in my life, I wanted to be all crying and wailing. I wanted to slap you, to curse you, to cry my heart out over what we had made out of our lives. I wanted to create brouhaha about all those unfulfilled dreams and unaccomplished desires I had envisioned for us but couldn’t materialise.
Maddy! The fact of the matter is that I can live being unloved but I can’t survive being unwanted and you made me feel so that day when we met for the first time. You have no idea how hard it is to act like a stranger with someone you have been very close with. It reminds me of a poem by Faiz Ahmed Faiz which he wrote about his visit to Dhaka after the separation of East Pakistan. “Hum kay theray ajnabi, itni madaratoun kay baad, Phir banain gay aashna kitni mulaqataun kay baad…”

Regards
Hadi Hussain

Image Courtesy: Alex Bruda

Maddy-Hadi Saga

It was September of the same Fari year, after Arsi left Pakistan, I heard of a gay social network website called Manjam. My folks mentioned really interesting facts about it, how individual manipulate others, how much people lie, how hilarious people can be and above all, how desperate they can be. So, I thought of writing an article over it and being a true social researcher I made an account at Manjam. Oh my Lord! So many seemingly hot and nude men, which I learned latter were either some less popular models or photoshoped cases. But this make me realized one thing that gay men really put a lot of importance to good looks and I latter realized it when i started reading the profiles of people. Khair, I will write some other day about folks at Manjam but right now I am going to start my post about Maddy. It was during those research days when I met Maddy online at Manjam. Among all flooding superficial, into quick shag guys, he was different. First of all his profile was full of details regarding ABOUT ME. He messaged me and said, “I am jumping in excitement after reading your profile. It was interesting to actually come across someone whose profile has actually some write up instead of ASK ME everywhere”. And I was like “Well thanks for your comments.” I also read his profile and mailed him detailed comments. And then it all started. We exchanged email addresses and cell numbers and one day out of nowhere he called me up. And then after brief introductions, aspirations and aims in life, he said, “I want to officially ask you out for a date, though I am far away from you but I seriously want to take you out for a lunch someday”.
“Well thanks, I would love to go”.
“You got really nice voice by the way”.
“Thanks.”
I may be appearing such a dull guy after these dialogues and I accept it. I don’t give many compliments and when it’s about receiving compliments, well I suck really bad time. Most of the times I think other person is buttering me or making fun of me or lying and he/she doesn’t mean it. Though I am do love receiving compliments from friends and family because they rarely compliment me. But in general I don’t take people seriously, especially who are appreciating me. But I liked him saying all that. It was a strange kind of elated feeling which used to bring a big smile on my face.
He was living more than 800 Km away from me and slowly and gradually as we started talking to each other more and more, sharing all the things starting from Good morning to good night messages to having sex through sms and chats, things started getting complicated. Our expectations and demands started to show differences. For me he was an immature, severely depressed guy who is too stubborn to change and let go things. I was a mature authoritative, control freak who’s so impulsive that he couldn’t talk to me something good. We started having fights more regularly after first two months of our online connection. I desperately wanted to see him but he was would always say that he would come first to Lahore to see me and that wasn’t possible in the near future.
I had told him about Arsi and he told me that it’s his immense pleasure and luck to know a person like me, even if I weren’t going to love him, he would still want to be in contact with me. I was emotional involved with Maddy instead of Arsi and that was the truth. I knew that fact as I was having emotional connection with Maddy not with Arsi. I was so clear about that.
My writing abilities, my psychologist status, my activism and my handsomeness, especially my eyes were a complete turn on for him. He used to appreciate me for all these characteristics. I don’t know why he never talked about the reservations he had with me, the things he disliked about me. I was always protective about him and he took it to be as controlling, dominating and bad. Although my intentions were never so. And after almost a year after our breakup he kind of told me about the problems he had with me. Even Booze told me latter as he became friends with him.
What I liked about him, hmmmmm, he was really cute. I liked the way he used to say and text me, “My janu, my Hadi.” I still remember the first time he said so, I got tears in my eyes. He was Syed which was like a dream come true as I always used to idealize having a relation with some Syed due to its religious/spiritual significance in my mind. And there he was a gaddi nasheen (heir of a sufi/religious order) with followers in his native village.
Constant day to day life pressures, missing someone at one’s side, long distance, lack of frequency matching, immaturity of both of us, and constant rows and disagreements finally resulted up in a break up. We departed at a very casual stupid reason and I never thought so it was coming but then he wrote an email and deleted me from Facebook, from Gmail, from his cell and from his life. And I was like, okay it do happens Hadi, though I was in deep pain. I knew we were fighting but never once I thought of breaking up but I guess he had thought about it. I didn’t stop him or tried to contact him again till a year later when I got his number from Boze and I texted him and apologized for the bad things happened between us. And since then it’s also going to be a year now, we are on good terms. We talk more maturely and without any reservations. And it’s going good. I still remember that bhe used to say that he would die without me and I always used to reply him back, “Nae tum nae marro gay. Koi kisi kay liye nae marta.” (You willn’t die. No one dies for anyone.)
I met him 1.5 years after our break up and it was a disappointment because he wasn’t comfortable in meeting me. And it was evident from his body language and that made me feel guilty as if once again I had pressurized him to see me. We did talk about it later and he told me he wasn’t feeling well emotionally and psychologically that day. And I tried to understand.
I still cherish the e-time spend with him, the hours and hours of chatting and late night calls and super late night text messages. But life has to move on and we both have moved on, for good. I wish all the very best to him.

Image Courtesy: Danka K

Arsi-Hadi Finale

After that Suhag raat, Arsi left Pakistan for 6 months but remained in contact through calls and emails. Slowly and gradually our few mutual friends were sniffing something going on between us and we both were ok with that. One day, I got a call from him in which he was crying and on asking the reason, he told me that he has slept with a guy and was feeling guilty about it. It was almost two months after his departure. But I was ok with it and I said, “That’s what I told you will happen. It’s ok.”
“Are you angry at me.”
“No I am not because I can understand your loneliness and moment of despair. So, it’s ok don’t worry about it. It doesn’t matter much to me.”
“Why it doesn’t matter to you.”
“Because I am a practical guy. I know about the realities and pressures one has to go through in this life and so chances of getting astray are higher.”
“Hmmmm…. Thanks for not making an issue out of it.”
“Cheers.”
But I knew internally that if I have been in love with him, my reaction would have been ballistic because I am one nerdy possessive guy of this time.
After six months he came back and I received him at the airport. We stayed together for the whole night and he jumped at me literally. And I wasn’t enjoying the stuff going on. In the morning when he got up and said, “Why don’t you go to a gym and lose some weight. I want people to look at my boyfriend and say, WOW what a guy.”
I was directly looking in to his face with sheer seriousness and getting the idea he covered that up with a stupid smile and a kiss and said, “Magar app to humain aisay bhi achay lagtay hain.” (But still I like you the way you are.)
I didn’t reply him and got out of bed and realised I didn’t love him and neither did he. For him I was just a contested prize he wanted to show off to the world. “Look! I got him, I screw him, I fuck him, I own him.”
I never let my parents to objectify me then how dare this filthy ugly hairy crap existing on the face of this earth is saying me so. I realised that I never loved him and I didn’t even want to try. And I couldn’t do sex with him because I can’t do sex with the person I don’t like. I liked him that night in his city but now the spell is over. Don’t think that he said few things one day and I decided otherwise. He has been asking me for penetrative sex, for losing weight, for getting me all over and controlling me and I have been letting things go. But after meeting him and having unpleasant sex with him, all of the things bothering me from the last six months made me finally decide what I wanted. So, end of the story.
P.S. He reportedly brought some fancy gifts which I never got because things weren’t well between us.
He has been doing sex randomly abroad.
And while doing a research at Manjam I was getting emotionally involved in someone during Arsi’s absence. And now I am gonna write about him.

(Image Courtesy: D. Sharon Pruitt)

Arsi-Hadi I

I met Fari for the last time in June and by the end of July I met Arsi through a mutual friend. He wasn’t a good looking guy but somehow he was raw, from his heavily hairy chest to his wheatish complexion, to his square jaw to the yummy stubble, he seemed to be a wild beast in bed (I expected so) and that’s what I liked about him. After Fari, I was so much busy in my professional life and my activism that I didn’t get that emotional went out period, no hibernation or depression phase been observed, just a few days of low mood and then life took it’s pace.
During our first meet up, he got inspired by me (that’s what he said to his friends) by the way I have sorted out my queerness and the way I was comfortable in my skin. My activism, my writings, my fair complexion, was big turn on for him. By profession, he was an engineer, just like Fari and he was leaving Pakistan in a month or so when I met him very first time.
After the first meet up, we met twice with our mutual friends and both times I was the focus of his attention and I was enjoying that, the way he was looking at me, it was making me feel so yummy. He even joked about getting into a relationship for the few weeks he was left with and I was all laughing and flirting.
In one of those meetings, he asked me to join him for a farewell party his best buddy was throwing up for him and I was kind of unsure of actually going but when I learnt my friends will be there, I said ok, I’ll come. Party was nice, though it was very hot but really nice music, men on dancing floor, tasty Biryani and naked men(rather man, he himself put off his shirt and started dancing while pondifying me, lols), really made it worthy. Near dawn when we all resigned, four of us were sharing a room and no need to say that me and Arsi were sharing the same room with two of our friends. Seriously I didn’t have any naughty intentions, not even when he chose to sleep next to me on the bed. The lights were switched off and then the story started.
After sometime, he hugged me and I hugged him back, started patting him on his back remembering his recent cry session with his friends a few minutes back. But I was wrong. After a while, he started kissing my neck and I was like “Hain! Yeh kya ho raha hai?” (What the hell is happening?) But I let him kiss my neck and didn’t protest and pretended to be asleep. Then he put his head above me and started kissing my lips, “Now that’s the limit.” I thought that but still I opened my mouth for tongue to tongue interaction and all that chup chup (kissing sound) was getting more and more audible in the room. I whispered in his ear about the sound and he suggested, “Let’s go in the room upstairs.” and left the room.
It was very first time for me but still I was very calm and confident about it. I started asking myself what I was doing and why I was doing, what will be its outcome or repercussions for the next 15 minutes.And then I said to myself, “HadiHussain, it’s a high time that you should get laid. You feel attraction towards this guy and he wants you with all your flab and non-penetrative sexual nature and he’s leaving in a few days. So, let’s do it”.
I was 24 then and it was the first time I got intimate with someone. When I left the room I saw him sitting just right there in the stairs with his head in his hands and as he saw me he stood up passionately and said, “I thought you will not come”. And he started kissing me madly right there, but I cued him for the vacant room upstairs. It was two hours session, with passionate kissing, personal talks and future plans. I was taking things very casually but he seemed somewhat serious, rather impractical. He didn’t know me but wanted to have a relationship because he liked me a lot and he wanted to put all his efforts to make our potentially long distance relationship work. I told him that it wouldn’t work but he persisted on to try.
“I will remain loyal to you. I’ll not sleep around with anyone. I promise.”
“But you don’t need to do so. It will be cruel on my part to levy such demands on you. We hardly know each other so there is no bonding to survive on in that foreign land. You will be hell lonely and in loneliness people do end up having sex. So, it’s ok. You can do anything you want. I can understand. Don’t bother yourself with it.”
“This means you will be having sex as well.”
“How many times you think I am having sex? You are my first one, I don’t have much desires”.
“That’s why I love you” he said and kissed me once again “And I’ll remain loyal to you”.
We took a shower together and then we came into the lounge like good naïve young boys and behave as if nothing has happened. I asked him not to talk about last night adventure to anyone, although I knew that Randy must have an idea about it as he’s a seasoned queer folk who has even lost his hairs in gaining all this experience and I was right about him. Before leaving that place, he vowed for his love and loyalty towards me and we hugged and I came back to Lahore.


Image Courtesy: Maria Li

The Day I Found I Got HIV

We were walking down the great Mall road of Lahore one day and having our regular evening meet ups when all of a sudden, in a pure typical gossip tone, Boze announced, “You know what, Haris(my ex) had even slept with Earl.”
“What? Holy shit, but he’s HIV positive.”
And then there was a brief serious silence followed by a surprising worried look in our faces and then like a fire cracker I roared, “Haye! main mar gaya(Oh shit man, what the fuck) Boze.”
“Slut! Don’t say that please, don’t say that…nae nae(no no)… ya Allah (oh God). Tell me exactly what you have done with him, tell me in peculiar details.”
“Mother bitch! I am not like you, I didn’t go for your usual bed ritual but…but there was pre-seminal fluid and Oh my God, Oh my God…. Boze, I am gonna die.”
“Shut up, I ‘ll bitch slap you. It’s not the way of getting infected. “
“Tera bera gharak ho Boze. Kujri kutti haramzadi, haye tujhay aik he kunjar mila tha puray Lahore main meray liye.” (Boze, may you go to hell. You slut, you bitch, you rascal, from the whole Lahore, you found such a man whore for me.“
“Tou main nay kub kaha tha kay pheli date pay he munah kala kar lain us kay saath.” (Excuse me! did I ask you to fuck him in the very first date.)
“Haye mujhay kya pata tha kay who chalti phirti sasti sawari hai, mujhay to us nay monogamous relation ke goli day kar loot liya.” (Oh God! I didn’t know he was a promiscuous liar, I got carried away with his flowery dreams of monogamous relationship.”
“BozeI am going to die. Please forgive me for my sins.”
“Shut up Hadi, you are not going to die…” and then he looked at me and said, “I hope so.”
“Can you be less melodramatic and tell me what should I do now after your bloody senior (he’s Boze senior in University) has infected me.”
“Shahbash Main melodramatic haun ya tu. Haye roola daal kar pura Mall road ikhata kar lia hai tu nay, Cholo.” (Wow! You are the drama queen here. Look with your hue and cry you have assembled whole Mall road in front of you.)
“ Haye (Oh) Booze, I have done sex for the second time in my whole life, don’t tell me I am not gonna do it again. This isn’t fair. Just see a lot of people are sleeping around with every Tom Dick and Harry and still healthy and poor me, if I dared to take a chance in my life then see that’s what happened to me.”
“Hadi, jaan I’ll not let you die.”
“Hunah ayeda tu Mughal-e-Azam.” (Hunah! You aren’t Mughal-e-Azam).
“Baji (Sister) don’t worry. I promise you that I’ll arrange a dozen hunks every Thursday for a party at your grave, who will dance naked and celebrate your untimely departure.”
“Boze, seriously, am I gonna die.”
“Shut up! You bitch”. He hugged me and pecked my cheeks and said, “It’s not gonna happen. Don’t worry jani (friend).”
Later that night, vine called me up and I broke news to her as well. And once again, I narrated my Haris-Hadi bedtime story to her and mind you she laughed at several points. In the end, she panicked and said, “Bus khatam hogaye, haye nae (Is it enough, oh please) I want to hear more dirty stuff.” And I was like “Haye Bhagwan” (Oh Lord). Later she did ask his doctor friend about contracting HIV and let me now that you are safe Hadi but I was still not feeling good.
Now it was first night after I realised that I have been in bed with a guy who has previously been in bed with an HIV positive guy and I don’t know what’s my health status now. It was quite a dreamless night, several times I texted Boze and played the ultimate drama queen until he had to discipline me in a very crude manner and I started playing victim syndrome.
Next day, I met Gaia and narrated the most awful thing happened to me (at that time it was actually) and she hugged me and counselled me and advised to have a test and I was like “NO”. I was afraid of the possibility of contracting HIV and I didn’t want to go through all that. But one day Boze hijacked me and took me to the hospital where I got tested. The ass of the guy there was so yummy and I said, “Boze now you are gonna bump him and I’ll see you from above.” And he gave me the most terrible look of his, which means shut up right away or otherwise I am gonna punch you. Later that night, he texted me up and said, “If you are gonna get HIV, I am gonna fight hard with God. He can’t do this to you. I’ll never let this happen.” And I was literally touched.
From all this HIV fiasco what I got is that never buy the relationship and lovey dovey stuff from people easily. If you don’t lie then don’t think no one can else lie as well. Second thing I learned is that SAFE SEX is very important. I am not into penetration and that’s why the probability of contracting HIV and other STI’s is almost nil as compared to the people who are into penetration. So guys always do safe sex regardless of how much the super-hot and super clean your partner seemed to you. Because it’s the matter of your life and that’s the most important and precious thing.

Ugly Faces, Nice Asses

Few days back, me and Boze were pondifying (cruising/checking out) men at the Mall Road (it’s our favorite gay time pass, lols) when we both caught a sight of a potential rauncho (hottie), in a police uniform. Personally, I have ideological clashes with the guys in uniform but considering Boze’s uniform fetish and the potential good body of our prey, I decided to put my scruples aside, for some time. He was looking away and his back was towards us. Wow! he got such a nice bubble ass that our filthy little mouths instantly experienced a lusty tsunami and while saying yummy yummy we moved towards him to have a closer look but exactly then he turned around, with the gun on his left shoulder and oh my God, it was disastrous. He was so ugly, with yellow stained teeth, black stupid whiskers, oil all over his face and wobbling eyes like a fish. Haye Bhagwan! how God can do this to poor us. We both surely deserved to be gunned down with the same gun he was holding and what more; somehow he got our initial intentions and gave us the signature tharki smile men in uniform are known for to which I couldn’t resist saying ’yuck’ and dragged my statue Boze along with me, (he was still in a state of shock over this mockery of the nature), poor Boi.
After this heart wrecking incident, we went to a café and took strawberry smoothies to regain our faith in beauty and aesthetics. I don’t want to be sound too much shallow but it’s my experience that most of the guys, walking on the street (I am not talking about celebrities) with hot bodies and nice assess will be low at aesthetics and don’t know how to talk and dress properly. It would be a plus if they are educated and aware of personal hygiene (without stinking body odor and bad breath). But one can rarely get this lucky.
After further contemplation, we both concluded that mainly village guys have more sex appeal with bubble assess and athletic bodies as compared to urban guys. Boze reasoned that village boys do more physical work and use flush system (can anyone else think of it) instead of commode that’s why there ass muscles are puffed up and in a good shape. To which I added that they also pray more regularly so that’s may be another contributing factor for having nice assess. But what about the faces, we couldn’t find any other interesting reason for that. Anyone having any idea, lols.

Image Courtesy: Usman Rana

On Special First Times

I got a text from a folk few days back in which he expected me to say that, “Yes first kiss is very special.” I started laughing, not because I believed otherwise but on the innocence and naivety of his question. The thing is we have been brought up in such an over emotional romantic culture where a mother can’t be a mother enough unless she shed gallons and gallons of tears for the sake of her son (yeah they mostly cry for sons) and whose prayers can miraculously resurrect him from doom, where no one loves lesser then Heer Ranjha, Sassi Punno and Sohni Mahiwal (folk love stories). Where Paro (female lead charcter from movie Devdas) says “Phela pyar to umar kay faraq ke tarah hota hai jissay cha kar bhi nae mitta saktay.“
Over melodramatic digest literature where heroine always end up getting a handsome rich guy who will deliver her from every possible atrocity, and the typical Lollywood masala movies where people can get their “love at first sight” with 5-6 songs, some drama, some romance and then finally overriding the much talked about Simaj ke dewar (social pressures) serves as the impetus for this cultural emotional mania. Here every movie is a love story and every love story has a happy ending thus disseminating this obsession with romanticism in “first times”.
Can you remember the very first time you wrote any alphabet? Was that special or legible enough??? I guess No. Can you remember the very first time you had cooked, drove, swam, danced or played? Was there any special affects in them to make you compete for an Oscar in the Special Affects Category. Again NO. But yes after several attempts and with practice, you can get that special thing in whatever you have been doing.
There was a time when I used to think that when I’ll fall in love or kiss or have sex with someone very first time it would be very special but darn it all those first times were pathetic. I was so naïve without any experience and didn’t know what to do, and what I wanted from life. Gaia says a really wonderful thing and I agree with her on this, “Phelay pyar par potti kar kay usay flush out kar daina chahiye.” (One should poo at his/her first love and then flushes it out.)
My first kiss, uff it was so pathetic, the guy used to smoke a lot and when we started it in the college loo, I was like hell no but nevertheless I completed it, looking for that special moment in it as it was much anticipated first fucking kiss. And first time I got laid, nothing was special about it except my horniness and his desperation. So, lovelies, first things are mostly stupid and naive as we have preconceived notions about them and we forgot that there’s a difference between a reel life story and real life story where one has to kiss many frogs to get one’s prince charming.

(Image Courtesy: Konrad Mostert)

“I am Sorry Daddy for Being a Fat Fag”

Once upon a time, I was just a kid, a regular shy kid with average weight but then one day, things started to change. The magical words of some fairy godmother lost their way and struck me and I became fat and faggy. You see, people used to say that,fat and faggy. Daddy was the first one to come up and notice it and tried to control it. He never liked me though; he had several reasons not to like me. I talked faggy, I walked faggy, I looked fat, and I looked ugly. People didn’t like me and so he didn’t like me. You see! it was very important for him to see if people liked me or not.
I was girlie, that’s what people used to say to him and so one day he decided to make me a boi, a real boi, a man. He asked me to stop running after butterflies and plucking flowers and to start playing with boys, elder bois. “But daddy I love butterflies, I love flowers, they make me happy, they are so beautiful, so colourful. Look at them.” He didn’t even look at me, how he can look at them.
He was always ashamed of me, poor Daddy. I couldn’t run good enough to win any race. I couldn’t play cricket or fight with other boi, not as I was supposed to do.
“Daddy, I got second position, see my certificate.” He was looking at the boi who stood first. He didn’t look at my certificate. It didn’t have that golden medal imprint on it. I guess daddy like golden colour. He never talked to me about anything, just gave directions.
Daddy you remember those shopping sessions when I couldn’t get anything of my size. No jeans, no shorts, no tee-shirts for me then; I loved pink tee-shirts though but I couldn’t take them, they were girlie you see. I still remember the sarcastic smile of every shopkeeper who would come towards me with an inch tape to check my size and after it he would start laughing and so would you. How much embarrassing it was for you daddy? I am so sorry for it daddy.
Do you remember daddy that Pinky, (my sister), used to call me motta(fat), aalo (potato), maajh (cow). I guess she didn’t know that my name was “Hadi” even I forgot my name was Hadi. And then I became her “baji” (literally means elder sister but is also used to refer someone as gay). I guess you know that Pinky has been always very good at giving nicks, especially mine. Daddy she was just a little girl then you see, just a little girl and it’s good that you never confronted her for that. You were such a grown up man, Daddy.
Have I ever told you that my peers in school used to bully me, make fun of me, harass me for being fat, for being shy, for being gay. Daddy have I ever told you that I used to cry without a sound, only in tears in the school loo after my daily raging session. Have I ever told you that the senior students used to kiss me and try to get all snuggly with me even when I could see that was something weird?
I can recall all your sayings daddy, like don’t eat this, don’t eat that, run like a dog, don’t you hate your body, look at all the fat, look at your chest come breasts, look at your love handles, “Aren’t you ashamed of it”? I am sorry Daddy! I never told you that I was really ashamed of myself, of my body. I so much wanted to cut myself in to pieces and gift you the size you want. I so much wanted to drown myself in the most concentrated acid ever existed, to get all my body and soul dissolved in it. I want to bang my head with the wall so much that I wish to lose the consciousness of being fat and faggy. But I couldn’t do any such thing, look at my survival instinct daddy, won't you appreciate me for that? Look how rough and tough the son of yours, the son of shame of yours, has become.
I stopped making friend Daddy, I stopped playing daddy and all I continued was getting fat and fag. I am so sorry for that daddy, I am really very sorry. I have been such an embracement for you for every one. You see daddy, some people do say this to me, “Nae (No), you shouldn’t feel that way, you should be take positivity out of it.” Fuck man, fuck for making me say fuck, and then for not getting my point. Don’t portray the bloody clichés, I am not going to be carried away by these beautiful lies and shallow ‘feel good’ stuff.
You know daddy, it was Danny who tried to make me realise how beautiful and good I was. He must be an alien daddy, a freak daddy; he never bothered with my fats and fagginess. I still remember that Saturday night when after a get together, we were walking down the lane I saw the bus we had to catch and I just looked at him said, “Let’s run and catch it.” He was a bit shocked and reluctant but as I started chasing the bus with full reverence and juvenile fervour, he joined me in. We didn’t get that bus but I got a great deal inside me. I ran that day daddy, I ran without thinking that you or anybody else will be ashamed of me.
You know daddy, once I started hanging out with my queer folks, I realised how much this body, my body is a hurdle in getting me a nice guy. The folks used to advise me “Babe you are awesome, really handsome, just lose some weight and then you will be the talk of the town.” ‘Talk of the town’, what a wonderful title daddy, see! they are as much concerned about me as you were. I want to take this opportunity to send my apologies to them as well. I am sorry lovelies.
You know daddy recently somebody just said it in his flow, “I can’t be with someone who’s so fat that if I ‘ll poke my finger in him, it will go inside.” You know daddy what I did that day. As I got back and went to refreshen up myself, I put off my shirt and stood in front my bathroom mirror. I could see all my extra fats, my flabs, around my belly, around my love handles and my chest cum breasts. For all those years I have hated them, detested them every single day. But at that moment, very first time, I started caressing and kissing my flabs and said to them, “I love you all, I love you my flabs, my fat, I love you very much. What if nobody loves you, respect you? What if everybody hates you, dislike you and make your self-esteem go down? You are beautiful, you are part of me, I own you, I respect you, I love you immensely. I will appreciate you, I will love you the way nobody else will do. Just trust me, just give me a chance.” I continued to say all that for I don’t know how much time and during that I was having tears in my eyes. The tears of belongingness, of appreciation, of love, of care, of overriding a history of shame and guilt, of resurrected pride. It was extremely cathartic and so was the text Phunk send me a few days back, “You are real, that’s why you are beautiful.”

(Image Courtesy: Jesse Therrien)

Anal Fixation

It was my regular mid-week hang out with Vinnie and we were having our favorite chocolate mousse from a really yummy restaurant we had recently discovered from the plethora of the new budding restaurants. Lahore never runs out of food and new restaurants. Eating from the same cup of young (ya it was, by God), smooth and creamy mousse, Vinnie announced “Uff! Chocolate is so orgasmic.” And I was like, “Excuse me!! are you insane or something? How can chocolate give anyone a rush?”
“It can, you inexperienced virgin bitch.” She said cheekily.
“Hain (What)???”
I put out the spoon out of my (yummy) mouth (I bet it is) and intoned like a great leader ready for his winning speech “Sweety, I may not be as much experienced as my contemporaries are but I am not a virgin. You know all of my experiences in graphic detail. I don’t know then way you are defaming me.”
“I know that’s why I am saying this, loser.”
“Ho haye! (Oh) Can her highness be kind enough to explain the reason for overlooking my experiences and denouncing me as a virgin?”
“Yeah I can, I am a generous Princess.” She smiled back and then said, “You see, you haven’t done sex yet, I mean you have never been involved in penetration, not even into orals. Your sex experiences are so mediocre and low status in nature. I mean it’s like, “Vinnie Vinnie, look wind just passed by me and I had sex or Vinnie Vinnie he took my hand and I had sex.”
I was shocked, “You mean only penetration is that “high powered” kind of sex and all the other ones are low powered things to do which you don’t think are good enough to qualify as sex. What the fuck, I disagree.”
“You see in heterosexual sex, act of penetration is involved…”
“I am not a heterosexual…”
“I know, but majority of the people, gay people do that.”
“Don’t preach might is right philosophy to me, Ok. And don’t say that I am still a virgin. I hate this word.” I closed the discussion there and then because I realized I receive similar reaction from the Pink community as well. People are so much obsessed about anal sex and I am unable to identify why exactly gaiety means anal sex. I have met a few guys in their questioning phase saying that they didn’t want to have anal sex. Was that really important to be gay and to have anal sex?
I went through same questions during my coming out. I didn’t feel like having anal sex but almost every gay guy around me would say how can you be gay then? What about oral?? No??? Strange, are you really gay? Then what you will do in bed honey, just holding hands? It was so depressing and pressurizing for me to handle and process all that shit. I remembered that if ever I would share my experiences, they would start laughing and saying, “You are still a virgin and virginity isn’t a dignity, it’s just lack of opportunity.”
Whole gay sex politics revolves around top/bottom dichotomy and its very basis is heteronormative in nature. Being a top (the one who penetrates) is associated with manliness, power and control and is considered to be of high stature whereas being a bottom (one who gets penetrated) is associated with womanliness, dependency, the one who can be controlled and of low stature. In heterosexual context, penetration (hard core feminist may excuse me) may be justified for child bearing but in homosexual context, its obligation doesn’t make any sense. The question here arise that whether the gay men are trying (consciously or unconsciously) to imitate heteronormative sexual dynamics to themselves, if yes then why?
One day I was really depressed about all this shit and shared my thoughts with Gaia. She became furious and said, “Fuck them all who say this to you. Lanant hai, phelay bunda straight logon kay mutabik bunnay ke koshsish karta rahay, phir ab yeh log humain batain kay hum kaisay achay GAY bun saktay hain.” (Fie on them, first we try to live our lives as straight people want us to live and now these gay people are suggesting us how to be a good gay.)
I did the same; I never resigned to their suggestions because what I do in my bed is of no one’s concern. No one can define what is SEX for me and what I like and want to do in SEX. So, it’s a wide call for everyone out there that if you don’t want to do anything just doesn’t do it. Sex involves a whole range of variant pleasing activities; don’t feel compelled to follow any pattern you don’t want to follow, even if your partner insists. It’s your body, it’s your life, and it’s your SEX. Enjoy SEX, the way you want it.

(Image Courtesy: Konrad Mostert)

Fari Hadi Saga Finale

I don’t know what I should write in the last post of this series, everything is so much scattered in my mind that I can’t even recall what happened earlier and what latter. Moreover, I am afraid of reliving the whole experience and the events connected to Fari after I met him last time. So, I will write this post in snippets of events as they are coming to me. After that meeting with Fari, my love story ended even before blooming (like nipping the evil in the bud). Itna kuch beet gaya hai yaad nae kya fasana tha kya haqeeqat thi. (I have been through a lot, can’t even remember which part was fictional and which was reality).
• Fari started avoiding me, actually he was never into texting me or getting back to me, even between those two meetings of ours, but after the last meeting, he made sure not to text me again, I guess.
• I didn’t like the fact that he considered me a ‘big brother’, it made me feel sick and disgusted. I felt an incestuous rascal, craving for a guy younger than me, was I becoming a pedophile. Yuck!!!
• Tina told me that he had started asking his parents to marry him off as soon as possible. Then he grew a beard, become ultra-religious, started having fights with his parents and siblings, preaching them how much wrong they were in their ways.
• Their (Tina’s & Fari’s) mother came to know about my sexual orientation and started bugging Tina to stop seeing me anymore. She didn’t know that I and Fari were also in contact, I guess then she would have a heart attack.
• As Fari was working in Lahore so in all this familial tension he stopped going back to home where Tina was adamant to talk to him about it. I didn’t want to create any problem for Fari or for Tina or for their family, so I strongly advised Tina to keep her mouth shut.
• And I knew he don’t love me that way, anyway….
So, I started deleting him from my system. Lost me cell one day, unintentionally although, but I knew it will happen that day when after a few months, as I was passing by the café I met him last time, I became so much nostalgic that I couldn’t resist myself calling him up. I thought I was over him but as I heard his “Hello” my heart started throbbing like always. I managed to talk to him in a normal tone and ended it up in a friendly manner. But I was shocked that he was still there inside me. I went for some research work and on my way, I lost my cell and as I was traveling back to my place, in the bus, I didn’t know what happened, tears started flowing out of my eyes. I could see people looking at me, but I was so composedly shedding tears that they didn’t come close to me. Even I wasn’t bothered about anyone at that time, I was in deep pain and that’s all I knew.
Tina remained on my side throughout. She stood in front of her mother and didn’t stop meeting me. She so much wanted to make me and Fari a couple, she was angry and agitated about all that. She wanted to make him love me but I told her to relax. I even stopped talking to her about Fari as it would enrage her. I still remember her saying many times, even that day at terminal, “Fari doesn’t deserve a strong, kind guy like you. You are too good for him. He will ditch you, he’s a spineless coward.”
After a whole year, he got my new number from Tina and came in contact once again. But this time it was completely different. I know he still listens to me, whatever I say. I tried to bridle his ruthless religious bigotry through puns, sarcasm, and discussions and they worked. He got married this February and I was invited. I didn’t go not because I am still in love with him or once I was in love with him but because I wasn’t sure about the reaction of his mother and secondly I was busy that day (it was mid-week, strange time for a wedding though). It drizzled for two days in Lahore, the day he had a Nikah and when he had Walima. It was really funny, you see, I used to think that I‘ll die without him, or will die if he will share physical intimacy with someone and that was going to happen after his wedding and I wasn’t feeling any such thing. I prayed for his marital bliss, after a long time I prayed, actually after leaving Fari, I prayed very first time, the day he got married.
I remember I used to be so sure about getting him in my life. I fell in love very late although, I was 24 then. I was such a nice, optimistic guy who used to think that Allah will grant him to me, as I had never asked anyone from him before. Because I had never cheated, never deceived, never lied, had been a good boy. I knew that Tina was right about his spinelessness that he lacked what should be in a good partner but I used to think Allah will change him for me. He’s Allah Almighty, He can do anything, and He will make him mine. I was telling this to Gaia and Zeb when Zeb said, “Hadi! I am having goose bumps right now. And I am afraid what will happen…if…?” she left the sentence incomplete. Exactly at that time, call for evening prayer started and I smiled and said, “It will not happen.”
I am not sad over Fari a bit now, he has never been that much important seriously. But what is bothering me immensely is that in all this, I lost my faith, I lost my Allah. Now I fear praying, fear calling Him, fear talking to Him. He made me fear. He made me fear myself. And now I am a godless creature… and it’s not fair, certainly not fair.


(Image Courtesy: Bartek Ambrozik)

Fari Hadi Saga V

It was a really hot evening of June when I met Fari second and the last time. I chose the place (it was a café as well as an art gallery) this time because I loved their Chicken Taragon and wanted Fari to try it plus it’s ambience was really awesome, cozy seating arrangement along with melodious ghazals and light romantic songs in the background, among the book in dim lights. WOW, can anyone ask for more???
He was looking very cute that day and as he came forward to greet me with open arms, I hesitantly hugged him, as his physical intimacy was very overwhelming for me. We went into the café and ordered the food. We started talking with real mundane day to day life issues and then somehow discussion went to the direction of sexual orientation and I wasn’t sure whether i should tell him or not. A part of me really wanted to tell him because I didn’t want to hide my intentions but another part of me was saying, “Hadi, slow down, don’t freak him out.” But using my Clinical Psychology skills of studying nonverbal cues, and testing the waters slowly I came out to him and you know what he did say, “Tou is main itna sharmanay wali kya baat hai”? (Why you are ashamed of telling this?)
“I am not a bit but I wasn’t sure whether I should confined in you or not. What if it seemed rude or obnoxious to you.”
He smiled and said, “Not at all.”
Now that was the moment I was looking for and I asked the million dollar question, “What about you? I mean are you gay as well?”
“I don’t know for sure, I feel attracted towards men but I like girls as well…but I don’t know.”
Taking this cue I asked him, “Are you physically attracted towards women?”
“I suppose so, it’s what most of the people feel like.”
I gauged his irritation in the reply so I changed the subject and started talking about my experiences as a gay. I told him that Tina knew about me to which he complained, “Appa (Elder sister) never told me so.”
At that moment, the waiter showed up announcing that they were closing the café as apparently there wasn’t any other customer apart from us and the probability of chances of having any other were apparently bleak so I paid the bill and we got up. Pakistan cricket team had a final match to play so all the Lahoriates were glued in front of their TV screens.
But before leaving the cafe, we both went into the adjoining hall where the exhibition was on display and fortunately most of the paintings were of men. I stood in front of a painting and said, “I like such kind of guys, having stubble and rawness in them.”
“Me too.”
And I looked at him and said, “You are gay man.”
“Ok, what if I am gay? What will I do then?”
“Being gay means you feel attracted towards men.”
“Then what this attraction will lead to? I mean what I’ll do with a man.”
“You will have sex with him.”
“No, that’s not I want to have.” He said in a decisive, nostalgic tone.
Later he mentioned his childhood abuse experiences and I became dumbfounded. He has never talked about it to anyone, although Tina had an idea about that. I don’t know why parents bring children to life when they can’t care for them especially the times when the child is vulnerable. But they just don’t see, they are busy in their fucking lives while leaving behind their children on their own. I was in pain after listening to him, one because it’s a very sensitive issue for me to handle and second it was about Fari, my Fari, how dared someone touch him without his consent. My poor sweet little darling! How he had coped with all that, all alone. I so much wanted to be with him during those times and to knock down that bloody rascal and let him pay for his sins but I couldn’t. As Wilde said, “We can’t rewrite the human history just for the gratification of our moral sense of what should be. “ Now look at me, I was in love with a closeted gay guy who didn’t want to accept his gaiety because of his abuse experiences (That’s what I concluded latter on).
We took ice-cream from a nearby fast food chain and told him about my LGBT activism which he listened to quite attentively. Further we started walking, on the canal. I was telling him about the party I recently attended and giving him some graphic details and he was enjoying it. Then we reached to a dark patch of street, rite parallel to the canal and he said, “I am afraid of darkness.” I hold his hand and said, “Don’t worry I am with you.” We crossed that patch and reached to another underpass on the canal. Our friends’ had already texted us announcing the victory of Pakistani team and what we could see on roads was groups of enthusiastic youngsters cheering and celebrating the victory. It was so wonderful to see all that first hand, rare moments in those times of suicide bombings. People cheering up; waving Pakistani flags on bikes, dancing in the middle of the road, all of a sudden the deserted city got back its life. Happiness was erupting from everywhere and was ready to take us away with it. Then out of nowhere, in the middle of the road, I bend down on my knees and said, “Fari, what if I say I love you.”
“I’ll say I love you too.”
“And what if I’ll propose you and ask you to marry me?”
He started laughing; the same wonderful juvenile laughter of his was reaching to his eyes. “I’ll be a great partner to be with; I’ll love you and remain loyal to you.”
He didn’t reply to what I was saying except from laughing his heart out. Then I asked him, “Why you add the suffix of bhai (brother) after my name, every time you call me?”
“Because I take you as my elder brother.”
I was taken aback a little but I controlled it and asked, “Can you ever let this suffix go?”
“Not really, I like you that way.”
I smiled and we said few departing words. “It was great being with you.” He said smilingly.
“Same here.”
That night I was happier over what I had done, said and felt then sad on him taking me as his “bhai”. I so much wanted to share my happiness with someone and I thought of Zain. So, I rushed to his place. He was waiting for me at his gate; we both hugged each other and started spinning and dancing. I was yelling at the highest pitch of my voice that “I proposed him, I proposed him.” And he was laughing and hugging and spinning with me. At that time I never knew that I will have to leave Fari never to meet him again.

(Image Courtesy:Susanne Nilsjo)

Fari Hadi Saga IV

It was a May Wednesday and I was extremely excited about it as it’s going to be my first ever (and last one off course) ‘one sided date’. I want everything to be perfect, no glitches anywhere. He chose the restaurant and he was there even before the time and I was like “Look! who’s more excited here?” I was wearing stripped light blue shirt, (which I still have) and blue jeans (which I don’t have now) and I was feeling comfortable in them. Gaia had advised me not to wear brand new clothes to impress him because they wouldn’t be as much comfortable as the regular ones would be (although my undies were brand new, lols). As I reached that restaurant, he was standing outside. As I saw him and smiled he said, “You are looking…”
I was like, “Yes, yes tell me how much hot I am looking and you are madly in love with me.”
I asked temptingly, “What?”
“You are looking so disproportionate.”
“What?? Disproportionate?? Nobody has told me this before. People do call me a fat ass but never disproportionate.”
“Have you gained weight or was it’s your jacket last time hiding all this?”
“Now, that’s rude.” I thought but I don’t want to spoil the rest of the date so I took that in good spirits and said, “May be, but thank you so very much for such a unique comment.”
And he started laughing and we went inside. As I sat down, I don’t know why, but I started acting weird. I mean I just couldn’t see into his face directly and started looking into the wall picture above his head. Then my fine motor movement started showing disruptions, my hands declined their griping skills. I dropped my spoon, then folk and finally my cell, I was having tremors. Literally I was shaking like a juicer blender, although my juice was yet to come.
He noticed all that and said, “Aik he dafa sub kuch gira do.” (Why not you drop everything in a single go) and I apologetically replied, “I don’t know what’s happening to me, I am not like that, you know. I am not as clumsy as I am looking to you right now.” He laughed gingerly; he was actually enjoying my stupidity and clumsiness and ordered a cheese nan (desi bread) and I quite innocently asked, “Cheese nan bhi hota hai kya?” (Don’t tell me, is there something like cheese nan). Now I got why Gaia at times call me Kaddu (literally means a Pumpkin, but here it means a simpleton person). Once again he started laughing and I was feeling stupid, but still it was fun, I was never annoyed during all this. I ordered a soft drink and took few pieces of that extremely salty nan from his plate. It was so cute to have nan from a his platter, from same platter, it was so romantic and touching. Then we started talking and talking and at one point I was telling him about my depression phase, (basically it was a coming out time, but I didn’t mention my orientation, I talked about how painful I was feeling) and I was giving details of my feelings, my relationship with God and how it was affecting me and as I looked into his face, for a moment, I saw tears in his eyes. And I asked, “Kya hua (What happened)???? Are you crying?”
“No, I am not, you please continue.”
I extended my right hand to his left eye and picked a tear on it and asked, “To phir yeh kya hai?”
He smiled and said, “Forget it, complete your story.”
That was the second moment when I fell for him. He had tears for me, oh Lord, I want to cry and laugh at the same time. It was quite an emotional moment; I hold his hand, didn’t inquire further and continued with my story. We ordered a meal afterwards which we shared, once again from a single platter, making it yummier. On our way back, before getting into a rickshaw (a three wheeler vehicle) he asked, “Can you handle every personal thing?”
“Yes, I can.”
“Okay than brace yourself for the next time.” He said with his signature smile and got in the rickshaw and went away while leaving me behind drenched in his love.

Fari Hadi Saga III

It was Thursday of the same week and Tina was leaving Lahore for home and I went to meet her at the terminal. She was asking how it was with Fari afterwards. And I said, “Theaik tha (it was Ok)” and then changed the subject because I was avoiding the topic but one way or other she continued to bring it up again and again. Than finally she asked me, “Have you fallen in love with my brother?” and I was so much embarrassed that I just can’t explain. I started wobbling and she took my hand in her and said, “It’s ok Yaar (buddy), I would love to have you as my brother in law.” And then we both started laughing like anything and I told her what was happening to me since I met him. I explained that it’s an amazing feeling but I was embarrassed to admit it in front of her thinking that maybe she would have apprehensions about it. And secondly, how it can happen? I mean he’s 2 years younger(and I don’t want to be sound like achild molester, although he was of legal age) than me and how can I fall for him, just like that, as it was mere fucking love at first sight, I never believed in? I had always been an adamant believer that ‘love at first sight’ is crap; it’s just ‘lust at first sight’ and now my own believe was challenged by Fari and it was hard for an egoistic person like me to accept it. I told her I’ll work on my feelings and block them all because I of the above mentioned reasons and because I was afraid, afraid of falling in love as it brings pain and deep emotional trauma I don’t want to have. Even Addy, a dear friend of mine, made me realize of my familial and social responsibilities and advised me to put myself away from him. But it was never a mathematical formula, despite of all my efforts to ignore him, i was falling for him more and more.
Than one day, after few weeks, just out of nowhere, I called him up as Gaia, my dearest friend was thusafying (this word is my invention meaning eating hard) eating water melons in front me and was asking me to call him. I was sitting on the terrace of her apartment and looking out at the tree where birds were making a lot of noise as it was about to sunset. With a throbbing heart I called him up and after usual regular talk, asked him to meet me for a dinner. Which he agreed and next day we were going out. It wasn’t a date, it was just dinning out. And as announced this news, Gaia hailed, “Yeah, finally you are on the track.” And I couldnot control my smile.

(Image Courtesy: Christa Richert)