The fear of turning 30!

My “30th” bell is about to ring. I will then officially be a part of the 30 sufferers, those who have had their hearts broken too many times and have reached the age of power and self esteem all alone. I might denying my real age and pretend to be a few years younger; the fact is never going to change. I will be 30 with a series of broken relationships, no place to call home and a not-so-great career path. Comparing oneself with likes of Dustin Moskovitz or Mark Zuckerberg would be stupid and irrational. Or maybe I should propose to one of them. That way I will have love, lust and luxury to my disposal. 

So, why are 30s so scary for most singletons? Is it the power or the lack of it that gives us all cold feet? 

A very dear friend of mine who works in Kuala Lumpur is 2 years into the age of challenge. “Being 30 is awful as if being a spinster wasn’t bad enough” she said to me the other day. Unlike me she hasn’t given up hopes of finding a man yet. She religiously renews her shaadi.com (union of desperate Indian husband hunters) subscription every year in anticipation of finally walking the aisle next year. She has seldom been lucky, though the results have been a letdown every time.   First time it was an Indian-American ass trying to make his way to her heart and he succeeded as well, but all of a sudden stopped keeping in touch without any reason, then there was the married swine, the pervert of worst kinds who wanted her to undress in front of the cam while he watched and shagged, the latest one was Canadian-Indian dog who had his family’s money but no respect for women.  Where are all the good men? I good men like our fathers, who loved moms despite differences, who returned home every evening with a smile on their faces and were overjoyed by the mere sight of their wives cooking and children busy with the homework.  

Someone wise said to me recently, “we spend the glory of our youth trying to be interesting rather than being interested in someone”. I on the other hand have tried to express interest too many times; I have moved countries (let alone cities) in search of love. Just because I met someone or just because someone far away said to me they wanted me in their life - I moved! Trying to be in a more "apt" location so love will come flowing into my life! All I have after these years I have settled with a lot of learning and a lot of experience in dealing with people. The only thing I have been able to conclude is it all depends on being in the right place at the right time. If I am in a Gay pride in Rome or Barcelona the possibility of finding someone increases by 99%. Being in Izmit, I only have 1% chance of finding love. But then there is still a chance to keep me going. :-)

One day, some day!

 It is one of those days when you just want to sit in a corner and continue to write. Write till the fingers fall off and write until anyone interrupts you unintentionally. The back ground music makes me feel lonely; the fear of losing is too great. The greatest manifestation of life “love” is the only thing missing in my life. When I feel something for someone they have greener pastures to graze at. It has always been like this. Why can't I meet one, just ONE nice sensible guy who loves me for who I am and understand the meaning of monogamy? I believe if you are in a relationship, you just need to give without any desires of gaining anything in return. This is what I have done all along. I lose myself in the man I love, until I become a part of him. I change my interest; I change my taste for him. For Gabriel I started to learn languages, any and every language, for George I learnt Yoga, for François I started to work on my culinary skills, for Bob I learnt to swim and cultivated the taste for classical music. I even went for opera lessons.  When you give too much importance to someone they start running away from you. For once I would want to be the guy who loved less. Just one time I would like to experience the holiness and purity of completely being in love with one man who reciprocates to me in the same way. 

One day, some day!

The day of disppointment

When one part of your life starts sailing smooth the other one has to completely fall apart. It was Thursday, the usual Thursday when I am suppose to stay home, visit the produce market and in the afternoon leave for Istanbul to party. I woke up with excitement and a silly grin on my face, think about Veli. I had told him I wouldn’t be in Izmit on Thursday and we shall meet on Friday; to which he gladly agreed. However, he said he was going to call or message me off and on. I waited for his message or call all along the morning, tried to divert my mind by doing some work around the house. It was 1 PM I hadn’t heard from him till them, I would check my phone every minute thinking of him. After which I decided to message him, just asking for his whereabouts. After about an hour he replied “kiss you”. Very precise and to-the-point I must say. Soon Figen called me and asked if I wanted to go to Istanbul as planned earlier. I was in no mood to go, my mind was pre-occupied with thoughts of him not calling or messaging first. I know there is no ego when you like or love someone my experience say ‘if a guy wants you, he will make it happen. He will make attempts to be in touch, he will call you and message you’ unfortunately this time again the voice inside me announced my “sunshine affair” was over as the clouds took over the skies. 30minutes later Figen came home, we stepped out went to the farmer’s market then to the book fair where I couldn’t find a single book in English except for some second hand English novels. Finally, ended up buying Jane Austen’s Emma for the third time and we were on our way to the big city. 

I was concerned, and a little worried. With my stomach slightly twisting, my throat a bit chocked, I felt a slight burning sensation in my heart. This was the same feeling that I felt after breaking up with a guy in my teens. So after all these years of absolutely nothing, I had that feeling again. It was in a way self assuring to know I was still a human being. I wanted to laugh it all off, but it was deep and intense. Sudden reaction of having fallen yet again, it might sound stupid and some might call me love sick but I think that is a part of my personality. We drove for about 30 minutes with no conversation, the suddenly I looked at Figen’s face, she didn’t seem very happy. Upon constant pestering for about 5 minutes, she told me. The guy that she is getting to know hadn’t called in the past two days. I realised there was more than one broken heart in the car that glided at the speed of 120 Kmph. 

Around 6:00 PM I tried calling Veli again, he didn’t answer though I got a message almost an hour later. “you calling me”. I asked if he was free to talk, he said he was on the bus and we could only message each other. I thought of using my Turkish and in the utmost polite manner messaged “Nasalsiniz” which means ‘how are you?’ 20 minutes later I got the reply “Good.” Good with a full stop, with no questions or attempts of further continuing the conversation. This time I was sure my ‘affair to remember’ had ceased existence. Figen didn’t get any calls either. We both shopped for a while to kill frustration then traipsed around the city. This time the roads were familiar and we parked at a safe parking lot. We changed in the car and headed to the party. To our surprise there were only 5 people in the party. The DJ played most awful, long forgotten songs entire evening. Figen’s hot dress which I helped her pick couldn’t lighten up the party either. She quickly wore her coat again and asked me if we could leave. Staying there would have anyway turned into a misery, I immediately agreed. In order not to waste the evening and return home without any fun, we decided to treat ourselves to Blueberry Cheese cake and Turkish Chai. We had a great laugh at the entire situation and our desperation. We made fun of all the jerks who broke our hearts and sipped tea at Taksim square, checking out all the good looking men on the street. Trying to dwindle away the pain we both felt. 

"A good friend is one who will sit next to you despite a broken heart, sip tea and make you laugh. " Thank you Figen, for being there...

A new date: Dream or reality?

Two days back I had a duty day at work. Duty days are those awfully long afternoon that you have to spend at the school waiting for any new sign ups so you could conduct their speaking assessment. Though most of them deserve to be at the beginner level, it depends entirely on the teacher conducting the assessment. If she (I am using she because everyone is she except me) feels the student is good to look at and would be a great "asset" to her class she will push him and recommend him for a higher level. There is another criterion, and that is how many sentences one could speak in sabotaged English. If you can create 5 to 6 raped and murdered sentences you would by default qualify to be in the intermediate class. on days like these I carry my laptop to work. It is a good chance to check facebook, send emails to people you haven't heard from in a long time, chat with friends and acquaintances and oh tweet. Sometimes, I even invite friends to school as I am not suppose to leave the building, we sit and chat in the cafeteria or the staff room. 

This time I invited Figen, a fellow teacher, friend, soul mate and my official fag hag who landed there with ice-creams. Figen and I spoke for a few hours and made plans for this week’s party. I was trying to create an online profile on a gay dating website. Soon after the pictures got approved, the messages started to pour in. I was very happy to see such good response. I had almost lost hope of anyone liking me. But I guess all these years of being underground gave me the confidence that others didn't possess. Plus the pictures were nice of course. There was a guy from Istanbul who expressed his interest in me. I was thrilled to see his profile and pictures. He seemed very nice, was definitely drop dead handsome and could speak some English (unlike most others who messaged me). I immediately replied to his message and we started hitting off well. After exchanging phone numbers I called him and the conversation lasted exactly 8 minutes 30 seconds, which left me with hopes and dreams that things can be colourful someday soon again. 

He told me he would come to see me the next day at 4:00 PM, I was so excited to see what was in making. Cleaned my house, did the dishes, washed clothes, corrected the last nights examination papers; everything was spick and span. My phone rang exactly at 4:00 PM, he was right on time and I had yet on taken a shower. I rushed my way to the bathroom; reaching the meeting venue 10 minutes late. Not expecting him to be there wait for me any longer. When I called him a tall, gorgeous man started to walk towards me. My heart skipped a beat, was that really him or was I dreaming. He came close, and greeted me in old Turkish style, kissing on both cheeks and said “Ben Veli, memnun olson” (I am Veli, pleasure to meet you.) He told me he was a student at the university and a resident of Izmit, (not Istanbul). By then I had dreamt of him as my live-in partner already.  

We walked home; I was happy, excited, shy and a bit uncomfortable with his good looks. He on the other hand was very comfortable talking to me and being around. As soon as we reached home, I brought him some water and stood deciding to sit at a place which is neither too close nor too far. He signalled me to sit next to him. I hesitated but... it was a bit awkward not having to talk about anything. Soon he turned around and kissed me, that kiss, lasted for almost 3 minutes. It was sensual, intimate and warm. I asked him to excuse me for a minute went to the kitchen, joined my hands and said ‘thank you’ almost 50 times. Returned, waiting to be rescued in the arms of a tall muscular man who likes me and made the first move. I was too shy to let anything further happen that afternoon. So we laid on the bed together, holding each other. There was nothing that could have kept me away from his arms. I was subconsciously thanking Pinar, the office manager who wanted me to sit there for the duty. After about 30 minutes of making out, we headed to eat something. I couldn’t think of a place other than ‘Cozy Cafe; which has been my favourite destination for the past 2 months. More so because the manager hits on me and has offered me to conduct ‘Conversation Cafe’ there for free. We ate and he the manager was around all the time. He even sat at the table next to us, smoking and trying to eve drop. He didn’t let any of the waiters take our order. Even when it came to cleaning the table later he did it himself. When it was time to pay we headed to the cash counter as I had a class soon and there was no time to wait for the bill to arrive. Veli turned out to be a man full of surprises, besides the conversation what was excellent he didn’t let me pay, I even offered to split the bill. He simply didn’t agree; I was a bit embarrassed as the manager was there to collect the payment. Then he asked me when I was planning to start the conversation cafe and how many people were expected. I replied and then he said “call me anytime, you need anything ok!” that statement came with such conviction and passion that I didn’t know what to say. I nodded and we headed out. Veli walked me home, kissed me on my cheek and said he would call back.

Considering how the evening has been, and how impeccably I played though out, I am sure there is something meaningful and deep I can look forward to. But as they say, after all it is all in the hands of fate. Just playing the game by the rules. :-)

Midsummer Knight's Dream

Hmmm... I think I should have called this blog "The Singleton". As perhaps I am the only single left in this world. Two of my close friends, both of whom had given up on love, with absolutely no hopes of ever being in a relationship - first one got married two days back and second one found love in the first one's wedding. All this, while I was partying and exchanging phone numbers with a jerk thinking and hoping him to be the one. 

The problem is I am actively waiting for it. Many years back I met an American woman from Jacksonville, FL. This was while working with HSBC bank in India. She was a colleague and I took instant liking to her. One day in the cafeteria when I was singing the same old 'singleton song', she exclaimed.

"Stop looking Glenn! Just move on with your life, focus on things which make you happy and complete. Focus on goodness of life and what it has to offer. Enjoy every day and the experiences it has to offer. And when you have completely forgotten about love, BAM! 'he' the one for you, will appear; extending his hand to you, with so much love in his eyes and he'll say, 'hold my hand baby, let's go home, our home where we belong” 

I had goose bumps all over my body. I could almost feel the touch of his hand. 

That night I had a very strange dream. I was with someone, he was holding my hand and we both were running. He was about 3 inches taller than me and had very big palms, like that of a knight. Then he took me in his arms and I can say I never felt so much love. That mere dream was far more real than life. 

Waiting to feel the touch of 'your' hands. Love you always...  

Finding Love

The most difficult task in this world right now seems to be finding the right guy. Who is this right guy, and where does he live? As per the astrological prediction I have been going out more than usual. Why is it that all this is taking so long? Does he really exist or is it just an illusion? I feel delusional anyway.

I have the most varied friend circle. All of them are really well accomplished, well spoken and established. They all have travelled the world, experienced life, picked up a few languages and have magically landed together as friends in a foreign country. The chance of finding a suitable man is as much as finding him in Rome or Amsterdam. If I couldn’t fall in love here, there is very little hope that it would happen elsewhere. I have befriended all these wonderful people and not even one of them ever approached me. They just look at me and check me out, talk to me, dance and drink with me. But never ask me out... I am starting to believe there is something wrong with me. I have tried to behave feminine, masculine, completely myself, wore formals, casuals, minimals, spoke to people, took interest in them, made my conversation meaningful, refined and classy. Yet, not even a single coffee date invitation or dinner invite. 

After all these attempts in vain I once again gather my confidence and head to the next party this Wednesday, in hopes of finding “you”. 

Until then Cheers!!!

The dark side of Istanbul (Drugs, prostitution and gay scene)

4 days are over already today being 15th of May.  And so far no luck in finding a nice sensible boyfriend. As per the prediction I tried to socialise and went partying to Istanbul with my close friend Figen, who has recently bought a big new car and is in the stage of gaining confidence. 

My friend Noufel organises an all expat party in Istanbul on Thursdays, which works great for me as it is my weekly off that day. Generally his parties have all his friends mostly expats who do not have anyone else to hang out with. There are some Turks too but mostly friends of friends. 

So, Figen and I decided to hit the dance floor on 12^th. Thursdays are also my days fixed for the weekly vegetable market, cooking, cleaning and washing etc. I reached Istanbul at 3:00 PM, waited for her at Forum Mall and almost after forever, she appeared. We shopped till about 8:00 PM then headed to Taksim square. I was remotely able to remember the location of the parking lot, if you stand right in from of the entrance of this parking lot Taksim square would be just 200 meters away. Figen wasn’t sure where we were and continued to drive until we reach the main square. But guess what, there was no way we could have returned.  We asked too many people and everyone had a different sense of direction. Finally one good looking man walked passed us. We both smiled looking at each other and asked him for directions. He seemed rather nice and polite and somewhat we both liked him. We religiously followed the route he had told us, we went straight and took third left, in to the street with steepest inclined road. For once I thought the car might turn upside down; my fears were soon directed when we focused on the ambience itself. We had landed in drug dealing, red light area. All the men standing on the both sides of the road stared at us.  A few people tried to approach us with “proposals”.  The road was extremely narrow, and our heartbeats were fast. I was having thoughts both of us being sold as sex slaves, when soon the main road appeared again. We took a deep breath found a parking place, changed clothes in the car and headed for the party. 

I had margarita for the first time (didn’t like the taste at all). Noufel tasted it and said it was too strong. By the time I finished my margarita I was stripping my clothes on the dance floor. I didn’t even know Samba. In that party I did... 

Around 2:30 AM when everyone was leaving for home, Figen asked me if I was planning to go to a gay bar. I requested another friend Simon and we three headed to Cheeky Bar, one of the non-so-nice gay bars of Istanbul. There were hardly any people, Simon started dancing with a lesbian woman, while Figen and I stood there looking at each other.  A man approached me, we spoke for a few minute after which he asked me to step out for a minute. I moment I left the dance floor he kissed me. I returned after 10 minutes blushing like a teenager. Introduced him with Figen, his name was Gorkan, he told me he was a bar tender, though he could barely speak English. Figen was furious when I returned; he was being approached by a man in a gay bar. Soon he approached me; I thought he wanted to dance so I started to move a little with him.  He came really close dancing and said to me. “is that your girlfriend?” I replied she was my friend. The he said “I want you and her, and me, we do business. You get 200 TL for a night. Tell me if you want”. I immediately returned to Figen and we decided to leave. While we were picking our bags and all, he came to us again. With is red eyes approached us again. This time I stood in front of him and said “listen! You come close to any of us one more time and I will knock your head off”. He left and we stepped out. I was collecting my jacked when he went pass us, went out of the main door and started to wait for us to come out. Soon I found Simon again. We complained to the security and they hushed him off. Just then Gorken called me, he was smoking outside and wanted to check where I was. Figen asked him if he could walk us till Taksim square he gladly agreed and finally we reached the car. But my beautiful friend realised she was short on fuel. We tried to exit the European Istanbul, and somehow landed under the Bosporus. Then drove back to the main square again and finally were on our way to Izmit. 

The biggest challange after that was to keeping the eyes open and to concentrate on driving. I spoke to Figen about every possible thing and when we were close to Izmit, I ran out of topics. So I started speaking Turkish, and asked her pronunciation of every possible word. Just to keep both of us awake. Finally we reached home and retired to bed. 

 So in the last four day, all I have done – got drunk, kissed a stranger and exchanged phone numbers.  Doesn’t seem to be heading towards love so far.