Desi Underground Gay

I was traveling in the metro the other day. Taking the violet line, in between Mandi House and Nehru Place. Traveling along the route that I have taken many times when I lived around that area few years ago. I would never take a seat to sit because I loved standing next to the door and looking outside of it. When the metro shifted its route above ground after Jangpura and towards Lajpat Nagar metro station, I would feel like I was emerging out into the crowded world from dark lonely caves. The moment metro compartment I would be standing in would see the light, I would imagine my skin beginning to glow. I would imagine that light running all around, dancing across strange faces and loud phones. The way the world passed below me, after the Greater Kailash metro station, made me feel like I was part of something big. Something much bigger than me or anyone. Recently while I was taking the same route, standing the way I always used to, I hated that it had become about you and not about ...

I have been thinking a lot about how temporary ‘connections’ are. Just when you think something is building up, it disappears. An exciting conversation over coffee never spills beyond, the meaningful ‘hmms’ never cross over the four walls they were exchanged in, the side glances never really turn into long stares. For few weeks I decided to give up on wanting these connections. I thought I could manage living without hoping. Which really meant that I practiced looking down while walking when in fact it had taken me years to start looking up. In between my efforts of trying to look down, my eyes stumbled upon you. I knew your face before I was meant to see it in real life. I had discussed your face with a friend. Till then I had imagined that face with a little irritation. I didn’t really bother stalking that face because I didn’t think it was going to matter much in my life. Trying to contain my general disappointment, I indulged in your face when I first met you. Thinking that this...

My journey with choosing the right Dildo has been a strenuous one. From laughing at tiny yellow colored rocket machines held together with cello-tape in Fort, Mumbai to funny smelling ones in Palika Bazaar, Delhi (rumor in the market was that most dildos were already used!) - I just never could convince myself to buy one. Most of the equipments online would almost always cater to clitoris stimulation. Dildo in the digital Indian market wouldn't imagine the prostate. Sometimes I think I should have ordered a Dildo long time back, beginning of my 20s to be precise, just so I could be good at bottoming! Fucking took me ages to be able to take a dick inside properly!  After repeated unfortunate physical encounters I finally decided to order one online. The Dildo came. I have not named it. LOL of course I have. I am not telling you the name.  I felt it between my fingers and strangely, felt like I was holding a dick for the first time in my life. I didn't feel the heat that g...

Jalandhar. There are days, in this bitchy, awful, lonely, lovely city where I now live, called Delhi when I do miss you. I think, ‘how does it feel to have grown up your entire life in one town?’ To have known all your neighbours. To have grown up with your neighbours. To not have to shift schools. To see the town change and call those changes your own. I do miss how growing up in Jalandhar we never had to worry about space. There were streets which didn’t have running cars, there were parks which didn’t have gates, there were familiar faces who smiled back when I smiled at them. I don’t know when did the many patriarchs who inhabit you became everything that I could ever take from you. I don’t know when did those many patriarchs who live in you, love you, hate you, fuck you, get fucked by you, became…….you.  Jalandhar, 2002 MY patriarch….is a lot like you.  YOU are a lot like my patriarch.  You both are cheaters. You both thrive on pride. You both bea...

Do you ever just get tired of repeating the same patterns in your life fully knowing how stupid and fucked up they are? Ok, I am SURE I am not the first non-hetero to have fallen for straight boys/men. God knows I survived 2 years of my high school by imagining Twilight to be my life. You remember that scene? When Bella is sitting for lunch and she sees Edward for the first time? When he enters? I used to re-live that scene again and again in my head, with Gaga's Starstruck playing in the back. Imagining one of my batch mates as Edward Cullen (lol, don't judge), only to be told, in reality, that I will never be his Bella :( Forever and always 💔 So the thing is that I DID stop wasting my time and efforts on straight boys, particularly post two very idiotic episodes in college. Long story short: I thought I was 'in love' with a boy who obviously didn't reciprocate. He started dating a good friend of mine and stupidly, in jealousy and out of million insecur...

I think it started when I would start setting aside a bit of my monthly salary for a gay spa visit regularly. I wanted to shift from shared rooms, hurried blowjobs and bathing rituals under watchful eyes to familiarity of my own bed (or the convenience of not carrying lube). I met you on one of my spa visits. You could have been any other - I would have been one of many. For the first time, I had actually chosen the guy on phone and asked specifically for him. I didn't plan on having penetrative sex with you. We met, we talked, we liked each other?  I have bottomed for very few. Impulsively, I decided to do it for with you. I think in your life you come across some dicks, which not only fit just perfectly inside you, but make you feel like you could worship them. Suck them till your jaw starts hurting. Make them rest on your face while you gently caress them. Compare notes with them. Have picnics with them. Miss them when they are not around. Make you feel like that there i...

I was getting fucked. Hard. Bareback. His smell was pouring on to my face. His body towering over mine, I felt like my body's center of gravity wanted to leave me and just engulf him. I felt like my mouth was open but my body couldn't articulate how desperately it wanted for every inch to be felt. It felt like his dick would dissolve inside me. The warmth of his dick rose my body's heat. Whenever his dick would hit my prostate, I would simultaneously feel like shitting, peeing, and experience that numbness inside which made me want to just close my eyes, roll them backwards and scream OH FUCKING LORD. I had been told by him couple of times previously that he wanted to slap me. To tie me up and beat the shit out of me. I liked it. Who am I kidding. I fucking loved the idea of it. This time after I came, he asked if he could slap me. I agreed. He slapped me. He started slowly and then his hand hit hard against my cheek. My entire face felt red. Images of teachers slapping m...