My latest book is The One Who Swam With The Fishes.
"A mesmerizing account of the well-known story of Matsyagandha ... and her transformation from fisherman’s daughter to Satyavati, Santanu’s royal consort and the Mother/Progenitor of the Kuru clan." - Hindustan Times
"Themes of fate, morality and power overlay a subtle and essential feminism to make this lyrical book a must-read. If this is Madhavan’s first book in the Girls from the Mahabharata series, there is much to look forward to in the months to come." - Open Magazine
"A gleeful dollop of Blytonian magic ... Reddy Madhavan is also able to tackle some fairly sensitive subjects such as identity, the love of and karmic ties with parents, adoption, the first sexual encounter, loneliness, and my favourite, feminist rage." - Scroll
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10 July 2005
My milkshake brings all the boys to the yard, they like it better than yours, damn right, it's better than yours
"I might be turning into a fag hag," I told Damien, the cute playwright I met and befriended the other day. He stroked his chin thoughtfully, "Most of my friends have fag hags. But I don't."
"Whee!" I said, "I'm a fag hag!"
Okay, so I probably officially don't count as a fag hag. I don't have enough gay friends, I meet them occasionally, more so over the past month than in my entire life and while I enjoy hanging out with Damien, it's more because he's fun and sweet rather than because he's gay. On the other hand, Priya and I were having this long discussion about this the other day--why we find ourselves drawn to gay men--and we figured it was because of the whole asexuality thing going on. It was refreshing to be with men who don't hit on you, even mildly, who you can flirt with, but know it won't lead anywhere and yeah, it's fun to giggle with a boy about other boys.
Why do gay men and single women make good friends? I'm not sure, but I do have a theory. (Jay, back me up on this one, okay?) Essentially, we're both lonely. All three of the gay men I have met (who are now serving as my general yardstick!) are restlessly searching for someone special, someone to spend their lives with, just as we as single women are. Perhaps not so much women my age, because we still know we have a few good years left, but I know women as they grow older, hit their thirties say, and even if they're doing fabulously in their careers and have fantastic friends, but they still yearn a bit, you know? Degrees of yearning vary from woman to woman, but still that yearning is something they have in common with gay men. That and the fact that I suppose after a while, we, the female sex, get a little disillusioned with boys who try to get their hands up your skirts, or do mind-fuck type things or slowly, carefully, delicately drive you mad. We want to hang out with men, because there is something there that your chick friends can't give you, but we don't want to spend an entire evening obsessing. Y'know?
Nikhil was the first gay man I ever met (the blog buddy from out of town who emailed me while he was here), but perhaps he set a trend, because now everyone I meet turns out to be gay. And if they're hot, the chances are greater. I was so hitting on Damien when I met him for a dinner interview and then after I was done asking all my serious questions we got chatting and it turned out we had a lot of friends in common and we had the same star sign even, and I was thinking that how we met would be such a funny story to tell people on our wedding day and then he asked me whether I wanted to go to Elevate on Friday. "Sure!" I said, grinning wider, "And will you bring some hot men for me?" (I was doing the whole 'play it cool' thing). "I'll try," he said, looking a little strange. "I'll bring some hot girls for you too," I promised, hoping he would say that I was enough and all that. "Um.. actually I'd rather go with what you said," he said blushing and I gasped, "Oh my god, you're gay?" Yes, well, we did go out and we did have a fantastic time, despite the fact that he's so pretty and I can't hit on him. *sigh*
Oh, by the way, in case you're wondering about the picture, it's of Sonu Nigam, who I saw in concert yesterday at some launch I went for. I would be convinced he was gay if I didn't see the way he was dressed--fake leather camel-coloured pants that clung to his legs, a shiny rexine black jacket and what looked like a tank top inside. Nope, definitely not gay, or gay and definitely not getting any.