Thinking About it All

If I could do away with sex and its consequences, I would have been a better man. You see I am caught between this desire to be completely devoid of sexual desire and this temptation to accept sex and regulate its effect on my behaviour.

I think you can call me  a sexual man. The time I was sexually active and had sex with men, I ensured I had sex at least once a week. The men were fun – naked and sexy. We would moan and sigh with passion writ large on our bodies. Oh man! Those were heady days – frolicking for hours on the bed, licking each other’s nipples, sucking mutually, and making love to each other; yes, those days were positively hedonistic. And I did have a streak of longing in me then. I longed for a partner to be with me forever and not go sleeping around.

Well, that did not happen. The men always wanted to have sex with someone new and since I did not know the ropes to foil such sexual antics, I would feel hurt, feel used, and then go sleep with other men. In the end, I turned out to be just like the men I deplored.

Then – one fine day – something happened and I began to be repulsed by my behaviour. Consequently, I stopped it all. And it has been like that for a while.

I do get these impulses to just get out and go sleep around with men at the gay bar. But decency has the better of me now. And I don’t let myself get carried away.

Yet, a part of me longs for nakedness, for some raw uninhibited sex, for some loving, for some intense sex…

Sigh! The Fallen will never leave you in peace, will they?

A Little Reflection

Day at work, day at work! I don’t understand what adjective to append to day at work. I can use ‘tough’ but then so is everyone’s day at work. I can use ‘boring’ but then when it isn’t? Let’s leave it as ‘day at work’. I think bereft of a description is exactly what my life at work is!

Unto Thee I Lift up My Soul…

At times, I feel rather sexless – as if I don’t need sex at all. And some other time, there is this urge – not commanding in its nature, but persistent merely by its presence – to strip naked and play with my penis as I bring in a naked girl on the bed in my head…

Men I did try it with. But well, men don’t do it for me now. It’s the women that arouse me and make me gape at them, at their breasts, at their luscious curvy behinds…

You see this is supposed to be lust – and hence a sin of no small measure – according to the Catholic Church. And the Church insists on marrying if one burns in, and burns with,  such desires.

I don’t want to marry. I have slept with men and women usually  - at least the ones in India and the ones I know – will never be able to reconcile to the fact that their husband was a homosexual at some point in his past.

Now where does all this leave me? Rather what does all this leave me with? Well, I can always join the priesthood, but I don’t think myself worthy of that position: Serving the Lord needs absolute purity of heart and mind and soul. I cannot vouch for that kind of purity in my being.  I can always sleep around, but that again is a sin I want to get away from.

There’s masturbation: That too is a sin. Sigh! It’s tough being a Catholic. And strangely, that’s not deterring me from being one either.

I really don’t know how am I to deal with this explosion of conflicting priorities…

Perhaps, the Lord will help me sometime soon…

Notes during a Break

Sigh! Another day at work. Seems like I am working here for an eternity. I began reading Jane Eyre on my way to work. The book’s nice and does keep me riveted with its flow. For a novel written ages ago by a woman who hardly left the churchyard in which she was brought up, it’s amazing that it can hold the attention of the reader even to this day…

Inner Conflicts

As I write this, my feelings hover around the border of sexuality and are, most probably, to cross into the land of asexuality.  I think I have spent my sexuality in its entirety. Sex doesn’t excite me – except occasionally. Perhaps, that’s the normal manner in which one is acquainted with feelings of sex: occasionally. I don’t know. It seems so mysterious. I don’t seem to fathom the appropriate amount of sexual hunger I am supposed to exhibit.

Probably, this is a second awakening of my self!

Mr. Boss and Mrs. Meeting

What a useless meeting, really! The boss apparently had nothing much to do and so, decided he wanted to spend some time talking out loud in the presence of his sub-ordinates. I being one of them, I had to be present there.

Oh what a bore he was! Right from start to finish, there was no direction, and even worse – no decision was even taken as to what was the outcome of the meeting!

Haha! Really, I was tired of the proceedings, I slept with my eyes wide open only hoping I’ll hear the words: “Thanks a lot!” anytime soon.

But no. He just dragged on and on. He had no idea as to how to proceed with it. He had no agenda to deliberate on and he had not the quickness of mind to trump up questions that would make us feel stupid either.

Needless to say, but say I must, the whole exercise was one massive royal mess! At the end of it all, he realized he had better wind this stupidity up for he had a plane to catch.

So, he placed his hand on his forehead and said the words I wanted to hear: “Thanks a lot!”

Hardly had he said that than I was out of his cabin and onto my seat, finishing up as much as I could.

Really! Bosses and meetings must marry officially in Church. That way, no one will be unsure about where their loyalties lie!

Notes From My Desk Yet Again

I just got back from a small outlet of Subway’s here close to my office. Since I am not really in a mood to lunch, I bought a sandwich – a measly veg. sandwich whose price can be termed anything but measly!

I somehow don’t feel that bored these days. Infact, today, I wasn’t bored at all. I wanted to do things at work  - which is a departure from my usual behaviour.

Probably, I did decide to get up from the right side of the bed!

Notes from My Desk

Busy day today. Lots of work to do. Bosses can be such dunces. Mine sends me a project plan – a blank project plan – and expects me to put in dates for my part of the cycle. Well, I pointed it out to him that I need the completion dates of those parts of the cycle on which mine depend on.

Oh yes yes! Very good idea, he exclaims as if he had just got to know something that will contradict Newton’s Law of Gravity!

Well, anyway, I got to know later, that the plan – as usual – is just an eyewash!

Ah! It feels nice to know some things never change!:)

A Joke Gone Wrong

Christmas came and passed us all. I was in a sombre mood so it didn’t affect me much. But it seemed to have a rather unusual effect on my sister. Initially,  she threw herself in the festive cheer of the season and baked cakes, stirred up some delightful fudge, and then also lost several pounds pounding away on the milk cream dough.  So far so good.

A few days later, she lost her cool because I joked about her putting on weight. It was a simple harmless joke. It did border on being a little risqué, but I contained it well within the limits of decent humour. Yet, she frowned, told me to get lost, and talk like that at a certain relative’s place – a relative quite known for such ‘rubbish’.

The moment she castigated me for that, I had no idea how to react. There I was all smiles and animated about what I was telling her. And there she was icy and as sharp as a knife in her word choice. I did not let go of my smile – I remember – as I turned back from her room to the hall, but I do remember I fell silent rather too suddenly for my own comfort.  I sat on a chair and looked out of the window at no object in particular.

More than being insulted, I was surprised, really. Yes, surprised. I wasn’t feeling humiliated at all. That I no longer let myself experience. But yes, I was surprised.

She called the joke vulgar. It was about how she had put on weight on her behind. And yet, she saw no vulgarity in poking fun at my weak stomach and the number of times I hung out in the loo.  That apparently was all in good taste, but my joke about her hips reeked of garbage.

Well, I was quiet for a while till I could contain my anger. Anger – when in me – boils to a volcanic temperature and tries to burn down everyone around.  Luckily, I don’t let it do so these days for after the burning, I and I alone have to face the brunt. Anger avoids such confrontations.

So once my anger died down, I let myself talk. And lo and behold! I wasn’t talking, I realized I was quarreling. I told her in no uncertain terms I did not see what she found vulgar in what I said just as she was blissfully unaware that her taunts about my hangouts in the loo could be vulgar.

Well, needless to say, she refused to accept that. But of course, she did not say so. Instead, she put on her face of disagreement and yelled, “Fine! I will not joke about it then! Happy?”

I merely shut up.

No point in arguing, really, when the crime had already been committed.

On Men…

I don’t know what is it with homosexual men. There’s always a propensity in them to like an extremely handsome yet dumb bloke – all because he is an extremely handsome dumb bloke.

Of course, the liking is stymied to their having sex with them. And once that’s done with, out flies every liking for the bloke. I have seen this happening often. In fact, it’s happened so regularly, I am rather wary when men approach me. Not to say I am handsome, but I do pretend to be dumb and I am not half as bad in the looks department.

A friend of mine did mention the same thing to me the other day. “You know,” he said, “it is so heartbreaking to know that all I am good at is the sex. They never seem to want to know me beyond the bed.”

I find it difficult to decide on whom to date for this reason. I need to be called after the sex and I want to be treated well. I think it’s hardly anything to expect when I am reciprocating the man’s urge in bed.

But well, expecting a need to be fulfilled and fulfilling it in reality are two very very different events. And I doubt they ever show a tendency of meeting at the same table!