Thursday, January 18, 2007

Closetalk Conquers Delhi

Closetalk Conquers Delhi

After all the sobbing about misplaced anniversaries , I decided I needed a break. So I packed my bags, convinced my boss there was urgent work required at our Delhi office and I was the only superhero who could handle it, and left for the capitol.

There were days of preparations prior to the trip: most tourists scour the travel websites for places to visit, while I, having lived in saddi dilli and well versed with its lanes and by-lanes, decided to embark on tourism of another kind. So there was Closetalk in the chatrooms of gay.com, gaydar, guys4men and all the rest, buzzing the Delhi boys, informing them of an impending cyclone and a torrid lust affair with Bombay that was soon to hit them. I compiled a list of 11 hopefuls.

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The idea was to go about my conquest of Delhi in an orderly fashion. That was how the Rajputs conquered Delhi. That was how the Aibaks and the ud-Dins conquered Delhi. That was how the Mughals conquered Delhi. That was how the Brits conquered Delhi. And that was how Closetalk was going to conquer Delhi.

So I started at Central Delhi, called up my old friend/lover, the Ponytail Boy and got to work. We had an excellent date at this quiet restaurant in Connaught Place, got suitably high on red wine and knee-rubs against the table, and then drove over to his place. As the cold biting wind cut through the open window I muttered how Delhiites ever get the urge to procreate in the cold - to which Ponytail Boy came up with the simple truth: never heard of body heat?

Ooo, he showed me enough of body heat, though, as we copulated all night. The fact that we left the next day for some utterly sweet pancakes with dollops of maple syrup on top for a late brunch just made the episode more memorable.

I bumped into Ponytail Boy again a couple days later when my friends and I hit Pegs 'N' Pints, Delhi's answer to GB parties, and of course we did loads of grinding on the dance floor. But I had my eyes fixed on the American that night, so I didn't go back home with Ponytail Boy again. And though I got busy with work/socializing/regular sightseeing for the next few days, I decided to resume my exploration of Delhi with quaint little Hauz Khas and a sturdy as-burly-as-you-can-get Punjabi Doc.

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Punjabi Doc comes from a rich merchant family who own shops in Hauz Khas, and after the infamous Delhi sealing drive, they were forced to let these premises lie unused. Well, not exactly unused, since they now constituted Punjabi Doc's love nest. So, while I was supposed to meet Lil Mizfit later that night at South Extension, I decided to make a stopover at the Punjabi Doc's love nest.

The thrill was quite exhibitionist really: picture a basement shopping space below a very busy complex on top, and we climb down, where the windows are quite apart, with only glass panes, so that if anyone walking on the road overhead knelt down and peered through, they would be able to see the two of us panting and groaning. Body heat came to the rescue again, as Punjabi Doc unrolled some bedding onto the cold floor, and before long the doctor was giving me some much-needed mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. After a couple of hours, flushed and happy with a great after-sex glow, I meet the Mizfit for coffee and soon we're discussing the lesbian ways of entrapment. Fascinating discussion...

Round three in Delhi, and I sms my first love: hey, strange to think I'm living in your neighbourhood here for awhile. Don't really know what I was thinking, when I messaged him, but he replied back and said he was out with pals, but would like to meet up for a walk later that night. So, while a party was in full swing at the Chimneypot's place, I took a short hop to the park where he was waiting for me.

Surprise surprise, he was actually looking damn cute since the last time I saw him, and we started walking over and over and over around the block. Walked through the park, got chased by stray dogs, kissed in the shadows passionately while hiding from the lurking neighbourhood watchmen, till he finally got the bright idea to take me to his building. It's 3 am at night now, and the two of us climb up the stairs to his landing and go ballistic. This is Exhibitionist Thrill in capitol letters, as we got buck naked on the landing and were soon hot and heavy at it. Fond memories of making love to each other for hours at a stretch earlier, but then those kind of memories don't really have much of a place when you're that aroused and excited, so we took our own sweet time, careful not to grunt or moan too much, highly excited at the thought of discovery and scared too, and I finally make my way back to the Chimneypot's place in the wee hours of the morning, my legs still rubbery. He said, I was the first one he ever loved, and while it all felt good to hear that, I'm not walking down that path again.

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Finally, my last day in Delhi came knocking, and I had a brunch date with a cute Spanish guy from Manila at Costa Coffee. Coffee was excellent, and it was better because I knew things were soon going to get steamy...! Thrashed around in the Spanish guy's hotel room for what seemed like ages, till we were both satisfied and then we were out sightseeing - time to watch another great erection: the Qutub Minar. Maybe it was the subject or maybe it was the company, but by the end of of our sightseeing trip, I was up for a second round, and we hightailed it back to his hotel for a quickie before I caught my flight. And while we hurried it up this time, an hour later I was left ruing why we did, because my flight was declared two hours late at the airport.

Waiting at the airport, I sms NatureBoy the woes of my life: only four different guys from a list of 11! The dear boy told me I mustn't be too hard on myself and my standards tend to be much too high for normal mortals like him to follow suit and well, that made me feel marginally better. And like a good little boy who's completely innocent, I decided I must come back and prop up this poor little neglected blog of mine.

Lest anyone think from the whiny post earlier, as was told by a blog reader to a close friends that The Closet is "bottomish and ditsy". (Private joke revealed)

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