A candle in the wind

“Yes, life is a journey, one that is much better travelled by a companion by our side. Of course that companion can be just about anyone; a neighbor on the other side of the street, a man on the other side of the bed, the companion can be a mother with good intentions or a child who is up to no good. Still despite our best intentions some of us will loose our companions along the way and then the journey becomes unbearable. See, human beings are designed for many things but loneliness isn’t one of them.” -  Desperate Housewives

 

Even today on a sleepless night they often visit me. Sometimes it is the smell of the roses or the taste of hot chocolate with ice cream on my lips, sometimes the touch of snow in my hand or a hug around my shoulder, the little moments of anguish from illness and of sorrow from separation… they come into my thoughts like a mother’s lullaby and soon after I had fallen asleep they depart leaving behind an everlasting smile. Call them friends in loneliness or a hope in travesty, they are the angels of my life …and these are their stories.

 

Jeremy

My Daniel

 

“Every night I light a candle in memory

Of men and women who live my story

They are the ones the heaven sends

                 The ones I call my best friends”    – self

 

It was 23:59 hours; I was in bed with my eyes fixated on my mobile, awaiting the display screen to light up any moment with my ex-lover’s name on it. But it never happened… I knew that my tears were getting impatient, so I shut my eyes when suddenly it rung up. As I picked up the call a familiar voice in American accent spoke. “Happy birthday!! Were you sleeping birthday boy?” Although it wasn’t the voice I expected to hear, but he certainly made me feel better… I had a good night sleep after that; not once I thought about the call I had expected but never received…

 

It had all started on a Monday. But not like the usual morbid ones that beacon a never ending tortuous week of late night meetings and deadlines. All of us had arrived by 8am, not the usual for Indian office goers. And everyone was in their best formals and impeccably polished shoes. Our American manager was expected.

 

It was almost 9:00am; I had stopped expecting his arrival and was checking my ex-lover’s email when suddenly a voice with an American accent jerked me up. It said “You seem quite busy?” I jumped up from my seat and turned around. As I lay my eyes on him, I felt as if the floor below me slid away leaving me afloat amidst frenzy. A well built, blue eyed, gorgeous young blond man stood in front of me. “Not really!” I lied. He replied with a laugh“I am sure you aren’t”. The rest of the day we had a panorama of meetings discussing his plans for the next 6 months. Every body seemed enthusiastic including me but for different reasons. While the rest were optimistic of the changes, I was excited about spending 6 long months with a manager who strongly resembled Daniel, the hot!! boss from the TV series Ugly Betty.….

 

On our first interview, I wanted to tell him about the challenges we, as new recruits, were facing against our seniors and other teams. But when the moment came, I faltered. As if he had almost read my lips that were trying to hold back words of frustration, he said “Remember, here you never work for anyone but with everyone.” That was the moment I realized what self–respect was all about, that was the day I knew I had found a new friend…

 

Within days he became an important part of my life. Lunches every afternoon, dinner on Fridays, chaperoning him around the shopping streets, the only things we talked about were Hollywood and my favorite destination Europe. It was mid winter and he had to leave for the US for a month. I had already started missing him until one day I received a package from him. It was the first copy of the annual publication of the Hollywood People magazine. For the rest who had accumulated to have a peek at the surprise package it was just an ordinary magazine but for me it was a priceless token of remembrance from my friend.

He returned back with tons of chocolates for all of us but a bad news for me. I was being transferred to another division. The very thought of reporting to someone else made me sick. I vehemently protested but all he said was “One day you will thank me for this.”

 

4 months later I was at the bar of the most expensive hotel in a Belgian town with my new manager, a middle aged dignified woman. It was my first overseas trip and I was in my beloved Europe. As we sipped champagne, I thanked her for offering me to extend my trip and spend the same in Paris. As we departed for the night she said “You should thank Jeremy for that. You weren’t the first choice to be moved into this division, it was he who made it happen and the Paris trip was his idea too.”

Before I went to bed that night, I emailed him thanking for everything without the slightest knowledge that he had just changed my life forever….

 

Zaif (name changed)

My kitty

 

“I watch the candle burning light

Oh!  Yet a darkness blinds my sight

He comes to me with a flower

              And says “This shall end your darkest hour” – self

 

My ex-lover had broken up with me a month ago. My life was devastated and the unbearable pain didn’t seem to recede. A week later I had met with an accident and fractured my left arm. I was writhing in a winter of trauma and despair when he came to my life like a harbinger of spring and happiness.

 

I was standing in front of a KFC outlet with a plastered limb, like a ship without a rudder hoping my blind date would save me from sinking. He arrived on time, a charming young man in his early 20s with a bouquet of flowers…. of red and yellow roses. Accepting roses publicly from another guy was like standing atop the tour de Eiffel and screaming on top of my voice “I am Gay!!!”

Unfortunately for him the next one hour turned out to be his worst possible date; all he did was listen to my harrowing tales and wipe the tears of a one limbed heart broken man. After reaching home, I realized my wounds hadn’t healed at all; I had taken advantage of someone’s loneliness to emancipate my own tribulations. I was destined to be alone for a very long time. At about 22:00 hours, I received a message from him. It read: “Thanks for the wonderful evening. Are we meeting up again?”

 

For the next few weeks he pampered me while I was still recovering from a fractured arm. He was funny and made me feel indispensable. For him I was the most handsome, gorgeous, sexy guy on this planet. That was the only thing he always lied about and I loved him for that. It is said that ‘friendship thrives on common interests’. But there was nothing common between us… we differed in our choice for men, clothes, movies and opinions. But the only things that made us inseparable were our insatiable appetite for Chinese cuisine and adoration for kitties (kittens).

 

A year later I was scheduled for a minor surgery. Zaif offered help. But I told him that I would be having a colleague take care of me. I lied. I knew he had his personal concerns and stayed on the other side of the town. Late that evening, I heard a knock on my door. It was Zaif. He had managed to finish his work, take a 2 hour bus ride, prepared dinner and fed me like a mother feeds a child. Before we went to sleep I asked him how he came to know that I was alone and he replied “Though you are my best friend, I never trusted you completely.”

 

Everything was perfect until one day he called and said “My mom has been detected with cancer…and I don’t know what to do.” The words seemed so unreal and impossible. On the day of her surgery, things got worse. I still remember the afternoon when he called me and cried hysterically, I could not comprehend much except that she was admitted in the emergency ward. I rushed to the hospital and what I saw made me choke and gasp for breathe. My friend sat alone at the lounge, hopeless and lost. I tried to console him and said ‘everything will be fine’ but I guess he still hadn’t learnt to trust his best friend completely.

After six long endearing months of survival she recovered but our fun life didn’t. He always had to nurse his mother and was suffering from financial issues. So we neither could meet regularly nor enjoy our favorite cuisines. At times I felt that he expected a little more than friendship, probably the accident had left an indelible scar of fear and loneliness in him which could only be healed by a partner rather than just a friend. But I was helpless too. Although I had found a good friend in him, a lover’s passion wasn’t something I had left in me anymore…  

 

Even today when we both manage to cope up sometime for each other, we try our best to revive the lost glory of our kinship. We try hard to forget our desperations and disappointments, our hopes and despair. But what we cannot forget is an unspoken story, a story of survival amidst fear and illness, a story of true friendship amidst the carcass of forbidden love. 

 

Karel

My white rabbit

 

“I hold the candle, never let it part

The flames I cage in my captive heart

He walks into my life and says to me

                  The time has come to set it free”         -self

 

It was my birthday last month. I bought a cake, lit a candle and wished to re-live the time I had spent with my Karel. Because those were the most beautiful moments of my life, moments when I perceived myself more vividly than my reflections on the mirror, moments that taught me that the taste of freedom is the finest form of addiction that we cannot afford to give up at any cost.

 

I met him first time at the Ghent Sint-Pieters railway station, a cute, gentle Caucasian with a cheerful smile and warm disposition. All through the day he flooded me with questions about India and its culture… By evening I was certain that despite being a European, he had a strong curiosity for eastern culture as much as his affinity for the colored men. Every weekend, he would drive down, spend the day with me and head towards the gay bars. We seemed to have everything in common except that we preferred men in the most racially discriminate way! I was attracted only towards young Caucasian men while he preferred the more colored split eyed Asian community…   

 

On my first night at the Red and Blue, a well known gay night club, I was enthralled by the libidinous gay crowd that swarmed me at the dance floor. As we drove back home, I continually blabbered about the boys interested in me and their hot bodies, but it never occurred that my friend wasn’t responsive. Was he angry? Have I offended him somehow? Was he jealous? The next morning while we were having coffee, he came up with the most incongruous question. He asked “Have you ever seen a child with a toy?” I wondered if the last night had changed my happy-to-be-single gay friend into an aspiring father. I replied “yyy…ess”. He then continued “When a child gets bored of a toy he slams it on to the nearby wall and cries for a new one. Last night the men in the club were the children and you were their new toy. I didn’t want you to get hurt”

 

On Christmas I was invited to his parent’s home. The finest cocktails from expensive champagne, a guided tour of their opulent house surrounded with red and white rose gardens and a fountain adorned with pristine sculptures, the crockery dating to the Napoleon era, the vast collection of expensive wines from the world over… As we all sat at the mahogany carved table for the Grand Christmas dinner, everyone (my friend, his brothers, their wives and children) hummed their prayers. At that moment I remembered my late gay friend Vivan. Like two rainbows, both Vivan and Karel had come to my life; one, whose life was cut short by incessant torture by his family and the other who has been accepted and invited for a family dinner along with his gay Indian friend….And so like the rest I prayed too “May Vivan’s soul rest in peace.”

 

All good things come to an end and even faster than we can imagine. I realized that when it was time to leave after the most beautiful Christmas in my life. I still remember that very moment when I boarded the train while he stood by the window. Despite the whistle of the engine, despite the cacophony of the crowd, we both heard a different sound, a sound inaudible to the rest. It was of something that cracked deep inside us.

Even today when I visit Belgium my white rabbit, as I call him, visits me; even today he takes me to the Red and Blue and protects the toy from the lustful children and drives me back with the same silent fear of loosing me, even today we walk in the cold streets like vagabonds admiring the street musicians and outdoor opera and haunt the bars to keep ourselves warm. But then when it is time to leave I see his smile gradually withering away like the petals of a dying flower, the sweet taste of sorrow seeping into our eyes after days of laughter and happiness… we both bid each other goodbye and along with it make a solemn promise; a promise to see each other soon, a promise for an eternal friendship.

 

Catherine (name changed)

My Masha Allah!

 

“I watch the candle burning light

Will it last my darkest night?

I live in fear, the flame shall die

              As winds grow stronger and hopes fly” – self

 

For those who have seen the Bollywood movie Sawaariya, where the hero gasps for breath when his awestruck eyes falls on the heroine as her veil slides off her face; the same was happening to me the first time I saw her…. the only word my inner soul could heave was “Masha Allah!! (As God has willed)”. Cathy was a fountain of timeless youth; she was blessed with beauty that would put the angels of acropolis to envy; her smile could calm a raging storm and her eyes as surreal as the clouds on a full moon night…

 

It was our Christmas party. As everyone gulped beer at the bar, the door suddenly burst open and every soul frowned at the cold gust of air that barged in uninvited. But I kept staring at the door that let in the most beautiful young woman in a black dress and her stunning boyfriend. All the time Cathy kept a close eye on his boyfriend and me as we chatted, until she all of a sudden, pulled him towards her and said “Come here baby, now I am feeling jealous!” Does she know about me?  The very idea of being perceived as a potential threat against a charming woman like her made me tickle. Nevertheless I loved her attitude and wished one day my lover would behave the same way.

 

On my next visit to Belgium, I was as much excited to meet her as dating hot white men. But for some reason, she made me feel guilty…as if I was using her friendship as an alibi to my sexual preference until one day I said to her “There is something about me you should know”. She came close to me and whispered “I know; it is about your sexual orientation?” The words from her mouth sounded like the movie title “I know what you did last summer!” I was happy that day; because I had found my first straight friend who knew my best kept secret. My late friend Vivan once said “If someone does not love you for who you are, then he/she does not love you enough.” Finally I had met a friend who loved me enough….

Now that I had found a soul with whom I could openly talk about guys, we would often sneak out during lunch and indulge in the most desperate acts of gluttony and gossip. As we relished our taste buds with our favorite Dame Blanche ice cream and hot chocolate, I would vent out my mental distress and sometimes my kinky fantasies. Sometimes she would request me to invite her to a gay club and I would turn her down with a classic lie “Women aren’t allowed there”. Getting noticed by charming hot men is always a tough job and escorting a temptress like her would be a suicide for me!

 

I still remember the day before Christmas Eve. It had snowed heavily and the view from my office window had turned spotless white. I couldn’t resist the temptation of playing with snow. And lucky for me, by the afternoon I had found my partner in crime. We rushed out and hurled snowballs like truant children. We had almost forgotten that we were in the office premises had we not noticed the numerous pair of skeptical eyes staring at us from the windows above us…. Later that evening I learnt that Cathy hated cold and snow and I knew that I owed her so much.

 

On my last visit I had finally gathered enough courage to come out to my director and tell him the urgency of moving to Europe permanently. I would probably never have had that audacity had it not been for Cathy. Even today she gives me courage; even today she convinces me that the battle is not lost yet. Whether or not I succeed in my desperate attempt to escape the social stigma, in the later years of my life I can always console myself saying “I have tried, thanks to Cathy”.

 

The last time I was leaving for India, like all other time she gave me a warm hug and kissed me on my cheeks. And like every other time the men around envied me. They saw us hugging but what they didn’t perceive was a woman lending her shoulder to a man in desperate need. They saw her kissing me but what they didn’t hear was a friend whispering words of hope to her hapless companion. Yes, like all other times everything seemed familiar except I was afraid; my hopes and desires were being smothered by time that was running out and I was struggling to save them. The endless gossips, messaging her my gay naughty fantasies through yahoo and watch her face lit up with a covert smile and raised eyebrows….all those memories seemed to evaporate like perfume only to leave behind a rare fragrance of the purest form of a ‘man to woman’ friendship.

 

“I watch the candle burning light

Fear no more, it shall live the night

She protects the flame by her hands

                 And says to me ‘Hopes don’t fly like sands’”   – self

 

As La Rochefoucauld, Francois De once said “Hope is the last thing that dies in a man”. Today, I owe my life to these beautiful men and women who not only helped me survive but also kept the candle of hope alive and burning. They are my angels, the ones with a golden heart instead of silver wings, the ones who live amongst us instead of the heavens. And how do we find them?

 

Well, if you meet someone in life

who plays with you when happy and admonishes when disheartened,

Adores when you are right but criticizes when wrong

Calls you when you are away and hugs when close

Praises you for your success and holds when you stumble

Takes care of you when you have cold and plays in the snow until you sneeze

Respects you as a man and pulls you down when proud

Loves you for who you are and loves you for what you are not…

At that exact moment, my friends! You will know you have met your Angel

 

The End