Post Porn

You know post porn, and a shag, that feeling that comes to you: do people really have sex like that? I mean, is this what I will be missing my whole life through? There are times when there is a guy who meets you and says, I am coming over, meet me at the door nude. And you think of all the things that could possibly go wrong. Then all those insecurities of your body that shoot through your mind like a hurricane… And you go to the door wearing a vest and boxers and the lover sees you, disappointed and you think of an excuse.

Post porn you get the courage, but then post porn you are also sated. You feel like getting into bed and going to sleep – thinking, oh, yes, tomorrow will be the day I meet the pizza delivery boy with a hard-on and then turn him on, too.  And all you actually end up doing is making love to the pizza.

The weekend was a good one. Had a lovely time at the party. Anand was at the counter, and I danced the night away with Yash and Anil. Of course, I found out later via Yash that he had come to the party to lend Gaurav moral support. Dee banned Puneet from the parties, and Gaurav and Niyaz came to the party and danced away. Anil tells me, after being manhandled by Gaurav, that this is why Gaurav gets beaten up. And I look at him and wonder what he must be saying about me…

The meet on HIV that Jay conducted the following day, today, was exceptional. Two guys in the meet actually came out in the course of the meet as being Poz and it was such a fantastic discussion. We talked of everything so very openly, and got a lot of advice from Jay and he says that A should start up with ART immediately. That was the protocol used by doctors abroad, and he was insistent that this happen as soon as possible.

So we come to another turning point in our lives… I am not worried, but it’s another new trip, but hey, that is what keeps life interesting and going in a different fashion… Hopefully we succeed in getting a good doctor. Jay will help with the regimen as well. He will be coming to the ‘Xmas party as well. Hopefully, the party goes well… I haven’t called anyone in particular. Let’s see who shows up.

A Jaded Journalist

It has taken me a long time to get back to writing in a journal. I am this self-proclaimed journalist. Never realised that the word ‘journalist’ could be used for someone who is intent on writing memoirs of one’s own days as they pass on by, heedlessly even, or maybe, if I am in a forgiving mood, lambently.

I have nothing really to contribute except a vast plethora of thoughts as they sweep over my consciousness way faster than I can type them all down. This is like a stream of consciousness zone which is more a tidal wave of thought than a stream.

What prompted me to write in were two things. I reminisced about journals and diaries and what they used to mean to me so very long ago. How did this come about? Well, I was watching Zindagi Gulzar Hai, a Pakistani soap opera, and both the protagonists seem to have a penchant for writing journals. And secondly, I have this brilliant new iMac and I keep wanting to see how fast my fingers can fly over this silver-white keyboard.

I am not very obliged to write down everything that comes to mind, but I will write down how I feel after so long a time has passed since I have done that in confessional prose as opposed to confessional poetry.

The days have been passing one by one. There has been a steady stream of men who come into my life, make me happy for a few hours and then leave. The man who I chose to spend my existence with seems oblivious to my emotional state – not that he ever was attuned to the inner workings of my mind or heart – and the not so surprising part is that I have grown used to his oblivion. The art of compromise has reached post graduation level and I don’t really see the point in fussing over something that he has no control over. It’s almost like when he cheated on me. It wasn’t the sex that hurt because I know it wasn’t an urge that could be controlled but the fact that he had lied about it all.

But I always digress. I picked up the iMac day before, on a Tuesday, and I am quite happy that I am working on it. It seems all that I had hoped for. And so in my 41st year, I have achieved a 1.5 lakh worth computer. So what if it has been paid for by the one who employs me – in order that I do more of his work. But I must say – having it here makes me want to work more.

Nothing much to report except the fact that I have swung back to old habits of sleeping beyond way six in the morning and waking up around three in the afternoon. I must revert back to sleeping at six so I can at least wake up with softer bags under my eyes at a decent time of one.

My favourite month has begun today. And I welcome it.

Owl

I’m just a night person.

I have been ever since I could remember. In school and college, I usually would study at night.

I prefer the night. It’s calm and people don’t intrude. Naturally, since most people are fast asleep. Except those who are like me. And that’s always great.

Staying awake by default makes one meet people like one’s self. On social media, on chat, and it’s so nice to focus and not be mentally distracted while communicating with like-minded people. Most friends who are night people like me drop by and we sit the night through.

I used to teach as a living and classes happen for me in the afternoon, into the late evenings. I’m no longer a teacher but a full time, freelance literary editor and social media director. So now that I’ve stopped teaching, I do my editing and social media work during that time. Which I used to do anyway at night when I used to work as an editor part-time.

So I sleep through mornings which I have always disliked. I don’t know what it is about the sun that drains me. I have a favourite quote that goes something like this, “I am moonlight, not sunlight. I soothe, I do not burn.” It resonates with my favour. Smiling now.

Wikipedia calls people like me Night Owls. Another name for us is B-People. The study delves deep into circadian rhythms and delayed sleep-phase disorders.

But interestingly, they also say, “Some research has found that night owls are more intelligent and creative and more likely to get high-paying jobs than larks. A study among 1000 adolescents by the University of Madrid found that owls are better than early birds in intuitive intelligence, creative thinking and inductive reasoning. However, they lag behind larks in academic performance and they tend to have unhealthier eating habits.”

Which I am afraid is true. During the night time, I get the chance to read. I write. I blog. I catch up on favourite shows or watch and re-watch movies and series. I used to work on papers or lectures if there are any. I sketch as a hobby. Or work on photographs that I’ve clicked. Or some graphics and video editing.

But whatever I do, during the night, is undisturbed and focused. :)