My new all-time favourite song is The Way I Am by Ingrid Michaelson. At the risk of sounding impossibly mushy I think this is THE song to sum up my relationship. (Okay, okay, so it's generic enough to sum up any relationship but I feel particularly fond of it so I book it first!)
I'm in Delhi right now curling my sock feet in the winter sunshine. Life is (mostly) good. I went to the Jaipur lit fest, standing down on my ego and going uninvited, but I'm glad I did. Going to a lit fest as a random schmoozer as opposed to having to sing for your supper is so much better. And, boy, did I schmooze. I met people I should've normally been all awe-ful around, as a backslapping equal, drunk some vodka, listened to some interesting sessions and (dun dun dun dun) found out that ASHIS NANDY reads my blog! Yup, the little ol' frivolous Compulsive Confessor appears to have some not so frivolous fans. He said, "It's the sort of blog people can't help reading over and over again, even if they don't want to." Dudes, I died. (Of course, the first thing eM said upon recovering her breath was, "I'm SO going to blog about this." Heh. I liked that man.)
So, a couple of weeks ago, Akshay and I go to this gay party at Pause. It was excellent fun--1200 bucks all you can drink--and I walked around feeling as though I could've taken my top off and have no one even react. Very liberating. Anyway, so we're holding up the walls and watching people dance and suddenly this very pretty girl comes over to us and is all over Akshay. I figure she's one of the hot fag hags I've noticed everywhere and smile slyly into my drink as I watch them flirt. Akshay doesn't seem to be responding to my nudging, he throws me a helpless look and goes off to get drinks while Hot Chick and I chat and I am the perfect wingman. "He is SO cute," says the Hot Chick. "He's single," I say, grinning even more broadly and she laughs and sort of teeters (she's very drunk and leaning on me quite heavily at this point) and says, "That's my boyfriend," pointing to a guy in a sleeveless shirt, with thick mascara and glittery armbands.
"Oh, I thought he was gay," I say, feeling a little bit puzzled. She looks puzzled too. "So am I," she says and I'm thinking, "Okay, she's lesbian, they're having a relationship of convenience so their parents don't find out." And THEN she pulls her top down and flashes me with... her perfectly flat nipple pierced chest. And I'm still going, "Huh?" and then my brain and my mouth together go, "Ohhhhhhh... you're a MAN." And then I start laughing because I think of how fooled Akshay will be but then he comes back and I whisper it to him and he looks at me as if I'm an idiot and goes, "Yes, I know, now will you please stop playing wingman?" The Hot Chick--well, you know, whatever--appears in the now switched on lights and I can now make out the stubble and the Adam's apple and I am amazed and feeling kinda stupid. Never mind, one needs a first encounter to properly handle the second.
NOT A STORY BUT AN INTERESTING NOTE:
I'm doing a reading on the 1st, that's Sunday, at Causarina Hall at the Habitat Centre from 6.30 to 8.30. I'll read from the book, there'll be a sort of discussion and then tea. Come if you can, it's open to all. It's being organised by the awesome FriendsOfBooks which is such a fantastic idea for a website.
And that's all.
Coz I.. I.. love the way you say good morning
And you take me the way I am