Yeh Dostana...

Almost a week after its release, reactions have been in the extreme - there are those who absolutely loved Dostana ( a friend went with 30 screaming Parsi queens who whistled and hooted every time John Abraham walked on to the screen); and others who without doubt hated it (a friend of a friend walked out in the interval).

The last few years have seen many movies that have attempted to do a Brokeback - Onir's its-gay-but-don't-announce-it My Brother Nikhil, to the sensitive Honeymoon Travels Ltd among others (Kal Ho Na Ho, Page 3, Fashion, Rules: Pyar Ka Superhit Formula).

KJo's Dostana without doubt is the one which has finally managed to force open Bollywood's closet, with a song and dance thrown in. Ok, so two of Bollywood's top stars ``pretend'' to be gay to rent an apartment, woo a hot babe and snag a residency permit (more about that later). But, it is definitely the first movie that surely deserves a place in the Limca Book of Records (the desi version of the Guinness) as a trailblazer - for the record number of times the word ``gay'' is mentioned in a single item song (Ma da ladla...).

Abhishek's effeminate ``Venice fantasy'' offended a few, but come on who hasn't seen a prancing queen in love. Boman Irani attempts a Meryl Streep a la The Devil Wears Prada and is a disaster. In fact, all the gay guys in the movie - Irani, the visa clerk, the guy with the boyfriend in Iraq - are caricatures. If the filmmakers could have fun at the expense of the community, they could have had portrayed a loving gay couple to balance the scales.

And, the residency permit for gay couples requires a suspension of disbelief. As P said, ``Who the hell are they trying to kid?'' about the whole premise of Abhishek and John putting their residency permit applications on fast track by queuing up in the line for same sex couples. They may be in gay-friendly Miami, but they are still in the puritan US of America. A simple google search would have told them that Florida is among the 30 states which bans same sex marriages. Leave alone special consideration to same sex immigrants, it doesn't even recognise same sex partners of its own citizens.

As for the gay friendly list- here goes: John's ass, John's ass crack, John's six pack, the item songs (Desi girl, Ma da ladla, Shut up and Bounce), the John-Abhishek ``kiss'', and for the number of times the word gay is used in the movie.
For good measure, Dostana also attempts a queer reading of Bollywood: Turning conventional queer theory on the Jay-Viru ``dosti'' on its head, Abhishek points to the gay undertones in Gabbar's character (Man with a belt shouting `Kitne Aadmi the'') . Not stopping at that, he pokes pink holes at the ultra macho bhai-brotherhood of Munna and Circuit.
The defining moment in the movie was, however, Priyanka's conversation with the OTT Kirron Kher about accepting her son's sexual orientation (``accept what you cannot change''). Kher's turn as the hysterical-slap happy-smirk at the word gay-mom to the Indian version of Debbie Novotny (Queer as Folk), made Dostana a ``gay'' movie. She doesn't just accept her gay son, but goes the whole filmy hog to become the perfect gay saas - welcoming her son's ``boyfriend'' into the family with aarti, bowl of rice and even handing over the khandaani ``kangan''.

So Brokeback can wait, Bollywood has Dostana!

To B

``B died a month ago,'' he said, shattering the stillness of the smoky haze of the lit cigarettes and the Bollywood track wafting in between. We were on the terrace of Bollywood Mischief - a breather before we returned to the sauna-like conditions on the two-level dance floors below.
``How?.. I had bumped into him just recently,'' I asked.
``It was AIDS... he was one of RW kinds!''
The last time I met B was outside the lift lobby - me walking in and he heading home. ``He had looked healthy,'' I said, unable to think of anything else to say.
The details followed - a bout of pneumonia, which turned fatal because of a weakened immune syetem brought on by a refusal to go on the cocktail.
RW was the first time I heard about the AIDS-deniers - a scattered and unconnected group of individuals who believe that HIV is not the cause of AIDS. They refuse medication that could probably give them a new lease of life - both substantial and productive, in the belief that the whole HIV theory was one designed to benefit Western capitalists and pharma interest groups.
India too has its followers, the most prominent being the one calling itself the Joint Action Council Kannur (JACK), which is opposing the decriminalisation of homosexuality before the Delhi High Court. They say they don't have anything against homosexuals, but ``oppose legalising homosexuality on medical grounds- that there has never been any link established between homosexuality and AIDS''
``JACK claims that the CIA report had chosen countries like Nigeria, India, Ethiopia, Russia, China and India which were strategically important for US interests, with a view to exploit market and human resources of these ''HIV afflicted'' developing nations in a coldblooded manner for its own benefit.'' (from a news report).
All I could feel was a mix of sadness and anger. B and I were never buddies of the backslapping kind. A friend had introduced us when he joined the organisation. Our meetings were always brief and in the lobby where he would be catching up on nicotine. We would exchange some gossip, bitch a little, before saying we would meet up at the party or film festival.
It must have been B's choice, but could not forgive him for the path he had chosen.

Azaadi!

Should I wear the black tee or not. Five hours before the parade that was the question on top of my mind as Joe held up one of his tee shirts for me to wear - after two of my choices were rejected by him, T and Cedric. My argument that I was planning to wear a similar ensemble for the post-Pride party - blue denim and another of his black tees - cut little ice with him. Cedric's comment that it fit me well finally clinched the debate as I headed to work.

Having sent out the press releases the day before - the Queer Media Collective was in charge of media strategy for the march, I walked into the office relaxed. Jisha had told me Malayala Manorama print and TV crew were keen to cover the event. Finding a ``Mallu homo'' to give a sound byte was my task. Half an hour to the parade, my boss told me I would have to write about the march too - which in a way solved my problem of how to walk the parade during work hours.

Jisha, I and the MM crew approached August Kranti Maidan, and all we could see was a sea of rainbow flags and TV OB vans occupying a portion of the historic ground where the call to the British to Quit India was made in 1942.

As the oh so Mumbai- band started drumming up signalling the start of the parade, the city's very own hijra celeb Laxmi gave a call to ban section 377. One after the other gay activists took the megaphone, and then suddenly the media went into a frenzy. Even before the queens could shout ``377'' the reason for the media hysteria entered the grounds dressed in a teeny weeny printed frock and wings. Actor Celina Jaitley had arrived to collective sighs from the queens - no doubt for those killer legs they could never have, and the dykes - am sure for much more...

The drums reached a crescendo as she flagged off the march. No dykes on bikes here - but dykes doing the bhangra and jive under a huge rainbow flag that had been flown in all the way from Delhi. Rainbow flags - big and tiny - fluttered, guys and gals, str8 and gay and everything in between, Page 3 socialites with their gay-best friends, parents, brothers sisters, took to the streets as media cameras flashed.

Jisha and me, arm in arm, clutching a rainbow flag in one hand and my note pad in another, we walked the streets of Mumbai as all around us people danced, sang and shouted slogans, blew air kisses to the onlookers peering out from BEST buses and chawl balconies at the queer sight.

Mumbai's notoriously unpredictable weather gods held their peace - may be struck by the sight of the drag queen in a shimmering gold dress and boa strutting on her nine-inch stilettos, navigating the city's potholed roads with such grace as to put many ramp queens to shame.

A dash of the Goa carnival, a very Indian festive-mela atmosphere, a Marxist protest march with the singing of Hum Hoge Kamyaab at the end, a Ganpati festival inspired band-baaja - the first Queer Azaadi March was all this and more. Sure there were no floats or go go boys - but as Krsna Mehta said ``We are getting there.''

Pics by Pratap and from Geeta Kumana

For more pics pls chk: http://picasaweb.google.com/geeta.kumana

Media Coverage:
Times of India - http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/Mumbai_Gays_march_against_Sec_377/rssarticleshow/3372438.cms

Mumbai Mirror - http://www.mumbaimirror.com/net/mmpaper.aspx?page=article&sectid=2&contentid=2008081720080817024703512d81ee63e

The Independent - http://blogs.independent.co.uk/independent/2008/08/gay-indians-dem.html

For more check here - http://queerazaadi.wordpress.com/media-coverage/

Jungle mein Mangal

Dressed in shorts and a tee shirt, with a haversack on his back, he stood out among the evening peak time horde at Dadar railway station. Standing on a corner of the platform, his wry child-like smile and soft eyes, made him seem a part of the crowd, as well as apart.
My then boyfriend walked up to him. Introductions and some small talk followed, before we were on our way. My first meeting with Chetan Datar around six years ago, was also the first time I had heard about him.
Over the next few years, I spoke to him once for a story, met him at a film screening another time, then at at play. News of his passing away on Saturday came as a shock of the kind that gets to you about someone's untimely death - especially some one as brilliant and promising as Datar.
Datar, 41, rose like a titan among the young playwrights that shook the theatre scene after the trail blazed by the likes of Vijay Tendulkar. Directing over 25 plays and writing and adapting around 15, he was declared a ``young giant in Marathi theatre'' by one news paper.
His works included Savlya, Gandhi Ani Ambedkar, Radha Vaja Ranade. He was also part of the Awishkar group - that encouraged experimental works by young playwrights, with screenings some times held at a dilapidated municipal school building in Mahim. One such play was Chhotyasa Sutit by gay playwright and author Sachin Kundalkar that I saw in the auditorium of the same building.
Datar, stepped out of the closet in his own quiet way, and dealt with the theme of homosexuality in many of his plays like Ek Madhav Baug, Holi, Ek Mitrachee Ghost among others.
A tight deadline at work meant that I missed the staging of Ek... at the World Social Forum in the city some years ago. The Hindi version of Ek Mitrachee Ghost, which I caught at NCPA, seemed (to me) to deal with the subject in its own coy way.
My last Datar play was the gender-bending Jungle Mein Mangal. His take on Shakespeare's A MidSummer Night's Dream was a literal romp through the jungle with cross dressing actors, with the very Maharashtrian tamasha at its centre. Watching the play on the lawns of the Horniman Circle Garden, as Oberon and Titania, schemed and duelled in verse and song, was an experience the audience was unlikely to forget in a long time.

More on Datar:

Interview with Datar in Hindu: http://www.hindu.com/fr/2007/12/07/stories/2007120751570400.htm

Playwright Ramu Ramanathan on Datar: http://passionforcinema.com/goodbye-chetan-datar/#more-5301

The Age of Adolescence

Everyone has a category of friends - the ones who say they are waiting for only `Mr Right'!

Their pet gripe is that all guys they meet are just looking for one thing - sex. Over coffee as you throw side glances at the new waiter at Barista, on IM, on a beach as you try to get past the one page that you have been stranded at since the beginning of the trip, Waiting-for-Mr-Right will go on about how single guys, even in their 30s are not interested in commitment. And, they themselves are oh-so-ready to say ``I do''.

Recently read an article in New York Times on gay men in their 20s in the US getting hitched.
What I found really interesting was the theory of why gay men of a particular generation in the west were not willing to settle down in their 20s and living a ``protracted adolescence''. It says, many gay men of the previous generation were doing in their 20s what their straight peers had done in their teens - courtship, one night stands.

``Everywhere I looked, gay men in their 20s — or, if they hadn’t come out until later, their 30s, 40s and 50s — seemed to be eschewing commitment in favor of the excitement promised by unabashedly sexualized urban gay communities. There was a reason, of course, why so many gay men my age and older seemed intent on living a protracted adolescence: We had been cheated of our actual adolescence. While most of our heterosexual peers had experienced, in their teens, socialization around courtship, dating and sexuality, many of us had grown up closeted and fearful, “our most precious and tender feelings rarely validated or reflected back to us by our families and communities,” as Alan Downs, the author of “The Velvet Rage: Overcoming the Pain of Growing Up Gay in a Straight Man’s World,” puts it. When we managed to express our sexuality, the experience often came booby-trapped with secrecy, manipulation or debilitating shame.''
The article is a bit longish
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/04/27/magazine/27young-t.html?pagewanted=1

Makes for an argument!

Time Out in Paris!

``But, you can’t even speak French,’’ a friend said as I toasted my Schengen Visa. Paris may be the most romantic city in the world, but the web is full of stories of snobbish Parisians who wouldn’t deign to respond to a query in English. I needn’t have worried (I remembered another tip on a travel forum – Parisians reserve their meanest behaviour for the Americans).

So even as I practiced my ``Monsieur’’ ``Merci’’ and ``Vouz Parlez Anglais’’, in Paris `Thank You’ was equally acceptable at shops, metro ticket counters or with a stranger on top of the Eiffel Tower who offered to take our photographs (well, again he could have been an American).

The Eiffel Tower, Museums, Gothic cathedrals, gardens, palaces and some more museums – Paris has them all. When another friend recently asked about information on Paris and Amsterdam, my long delayed travel piece finally got wriiten.

All you need to know about Paris

Getting out of the airport:
The Charles de Gaulle International Airport also known as the Roissy airport is situated to the north east of the city. There are three options of getting to the city.
*Take the RER-B station from Terminal 2 and 3. Tickets cost about €8, 50.
* Take the airport-city bus service the Roissy bus that will take you to Opéra Garnier.
* Take a cab (It has Taxi Parisiens sticker on its roof). May turn out to be a bit expensive upwards of € 45, but it’s the easiest way to get to your hotel if you are going to Paris for the first time. Be warned that the traffic jams during weekdays are bad and the cab meter will go on ticking.

Imp Tip: Buy a Paris Museum pass at the airport info kiosk. (Read info below)

Getting around:
The Metro is the best way to get around Paris and see the sights. Paris has an excellent underground metro network. Your hotel will have a map of the train network. Keep a couple of them with you; it will prove handy.

A single ticket costs €1.50. If you are in Paris for more than a day -less than 4 days, buy a carnet of 10 tickets costing €11.10. This is valid for unlimited metro, RER, bus and tram transfers during one hour and can be bought at any of the stations from automatic vending machines or the ticket counters.
If you are staying for more, it makes sense to buy the Carte Orange weekly/monthly pass.

Things to do:
Open Bus Tour: One of the first things you should do is take the hop on-hop off Paris L’Open Tour Bus – an open topped double decker bus with head sets. The bus has four routes and is the best way to get a feel of the city and check the major attractions. A one day pass will cost €26 and a two day pass is €29. Ask your hotel reception for the pass – they usually stock it.

Paris by boat: Batobus, Bateaux Mouches have sightseeing cruises.

Things to see:
Eiffel Tower one of the wonders of the world.
Arc de Triomphe Paris’ Gateway of India, but trust me bigger, better and grand it has the grave of the unknown soldier under the arch.
Notre Dame Cathedral A magnificent Gothic cathedral that was made famous Victor Hugo in his novel The Hunchback of Notre Dame.
Sacré Coeur A church that offers awesome views of Paris.
Père-Lachaise Cemetery graves of Jim Morrison, Oscar Wilde among others.
Sainte Chapelle Another church, but this is famous for its stained glass windows.
Chateau de Versailles You have to travel outside the city to see the home of King Louis XIV.
The Louvre One of the best museums in the world. Perhaps more known for it’s most famous resident Mona Lisa.
Musée d'Orsay Once a train station, it has an impressive collection of the impressionists, including Van Gogh
Other places to see Pantheon, Luxembourg gardens, Centre Georges, Pompidou, and Picasso Museum.

Paris Museum Pass: A pre-paid card, it is one of the most convenient and value for money ways to see the important sights in Paris. It allows entry to 70 museums and monuments, and most of the times allow you to jump queues. A 2-day pass cots €30), 4-day (€45) and 6-day (€60).

Before you go:
You would need a Schengen Visa from the French Consulate in your city.

Booking hotels:
I spent hours on the site www.booking.com, checking out hotel deals and then getting first hand reviews of the hotels from www.tripadvisor.com.
Getting out:
If you plan to use Paris as a base to travel to other parts of Europe, you can book railway tickets on trains including the high speed Thalys on the website www.sncf.com. It’s the French national railway network, have regular discounts. Click on the flag of Great Britain at the end of the page for English.

PS: Carry a copy of your passport and Schengen Visa, especially in Amsterdam. A darker skin tone, can mean you are subjected to a security check by the police, if you are traveling on your own.


This is a rough itinerary that I drew up for short Paris-Amsterdan trip.
Day 1
Take Open bus tour of Paris.
Go see the Eiffel tower in the evening
Day 2 –
See the Louvre. It’s huge and you may spend aimless hours just wandering. So make a list of the major works that you wanna see beginning with the Mona Lisa, get a map and start ticking the list.
Evening: Champs Elysees, Arc De Triomphe
Day 3
Musee d'Orsay
Notre Dame, Sainte Chapelle
Evening – River cruise
Day 4
Sacre-Coeur, Explore Montmartre or go visit Versailles

*In the evening go to Marais, the most happening and gay part of Paris.
*If you are not much of a Museum person you can always do the Moulin Rogue or Lido

Amsterdam
Day 1
Visit Dam Square and go see the red light district
Day 2
Take a canal cruise
Rijksmuseum and Van Gogh Museum
Day 3
Visit Zaans Schaans (the wind mill area) or Anne Frank Museum and Vondel park
Day 4
Go visit the gay book stores and the Homo Monument.
Things you have to do:
Visit Cock Ring the happening gay bar, and Prik a lounge bar.

Pretty Woman

Ok here's a confession - last week was the first time that I caught the whole of Pretty Woman at one go. Can't seem to figure out why I never got around to watching the movie. It was released in 1990 when I was still in school - that's the only reason that fits the bill.

Every generation has its favorite love stories and Pretty Woman was up there on the list for the 90s. A modern day fairy tale of the handsome kinight rescuing the beautiful Princess from her miserable life.

Watching the movie at the age of 31 and shedding silent tearswhen Roberts' character Vivian Ward tells Gere's Edward Lewis "You hurt me; don't do it again" -it just hit me why the movie affects a gay guy so much.

Of course there's the dashing, suave and much younger Gere. But, its for Roberts' Vivian that you root for.
She literally drives into the life of rich, hansdsome Edward. Even as she falls head over heels for him, Edwards is not looking for love and makes it clear to Vivian that she is on hire. They play lovers for a week and by the end of it... you know what happens.

Many a gay guy - who've had their share of one-week relationships - can identify with the character of Vivian. A hooker and a misfit on Rodeo Drive, Vivian gets to live this incredible life of a society girl in love - even if its just for a week. Vivian scorned by sales women in a botique, and coming back the next day to show them thier place are classic camp revenge fantasies.
And, who hasn't met guys who are ready for anything but insist they won't kiss on the lips!

Escort me

`Yahoo Entertainment' the ad proclaimed in the classified section of a tabloid. The photograph accompanying the ad was of a white female striking a pose (may be the whites should sue us for racism and our portrayals of all white women as loose). The escort ad assured ``Hi-Fi, elite class, broad minded, educated, English speaking, modernised, smart, young models'' - translation... girls in jeans who would fulfill all you sexual fantasies and more and may be utter sweet nothings in English.

The names of the escort agencies were indicative of the services - Blue Divine, X Dream, Royal, Gold Girls, Mumbai Queen... There was even a very 80ish Sweety Friendship Club - does the fact that it offered ``high society, Gujarati, Marwadi, Punjabi, anywhere good entertainment', have anything to do with the traditional name.

The ads for `hot fun, masti' were all one possibly needed to understand the sexual fantasies of the average heterosexual Indian male. While for a wife, he (more likely his parents), would advertise for a `fair, educated, homely' girl, when it came to escorts it was 'high society' Indian, European, Russian girls. Come to think of it when did you guys last see an ad for a `hi-fi' wife.

Let it snow!

Four days before Christmas, stepped into the Planet M shop below my office. Had decided not to swipe plastic, come what may. The ipod had meant, most of my music was now downloaded from the net, and couldn't remember the last time that I had used my music CD player.

Frank Sinatra was singing `Let it snow, let it snow...' and what with the season of cheer and everything, bought two CDs of Christmas classics.

So here are my questions:

*Why is it that the week before Christmas, you suddenly feel like hearing, `Hark! The Herald Angels Sing'

*Why is it that in Mumbai's warm Christmas, you feel you need to cuddle up against some one besides a fire.

*Why does an artificial Chinese Christmas tree make you all gooey.

*Why do you suddenly feel like kissing some one below a mistletoe - though you have never actually seen a real one, if you ignore the plastic ones.

* Why for an Indian Malayalee Christian it doesn't feel like Christmas unless you listen to `The Christmas Song (Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire)'

*Or for that matter why on Boxing Day, 'Silent Night' never stirs the same emotions as that of the previous day.