This past weekend was indeed quite an eventful one in my life. It involved, singing and dancing like a total fairy to the groovy re-mastered music of ABBA, being embittered about a guy ditching up on plans, terrorist attacks upon the city, cheating on my diet to get over being stood up, therapeutic-coffee with Wolfie, and again, singing and dancing like a total fairy to the groovy re-mastered music of ABBA!
Friday, September 12th was a day I had long been waiting for. Even since it released in July within the States, I had been eagerly anticipating the release of Mamma Mia – The Musical Movie within India. In fact, I wanted to see this movie much more than the Dark Knight! I mean, what red-blooded gay man wouldn’t? It’s got Meryl Streep, a gorgeous Greek Island, tones of hunk-a-licious studs singing and dancing in Speedos, and the super fabulous evergreen gaylicious music of ABBA! Sure, the Dark Knight had the sexy Christian Bale in a hot black suit and Heath Ledger giving the performance of his life (in more ways than one), but still, on a strictly ‘fabulous-factor’, Mamma Mia totally outranks it!
What was even more surprising was that on the movie’s official website, it was mentioned the release date for India was October 3rd, and I had planned my big Mamma Mia bash in accordance. However, during the middle of August, I discovered the soundtrack album tucked away in a shelf at Planet M in CP, and on the CD case a sticker mentioned ‘Releasing this September!’ Needless to say I canceled the October bash, and called all my friends informing them that it’s coming out in September. However, since no date was mentioned whatsoever, and the official site still listed October 3rd, I had no choice but call off the Mamma Mia release party I had planned.
A week before the official release, TV commercials flooded the ‘English’ channels parading the soundtrack CD, and flashing the release date of September 12th. They even released the promo video of ‘Gimme Gimme Gimme (A Man After Midnight)’ which is sung by Amanda Seyfried, who plays Meryl’s daughter in the movie. Moviegoers would remember her as one of the ‘plastics’ from the movie Mean Girls (the one who got a job as a weathergirl as she could touch her boobies and tell if it was raining or not). The video featured a generous dose of teaser clips from the movie, which made me drool with anticipation even while dancing all around my room and singing along to the song - which just happens to be one of my favorite ABBA tracks ever!
I immediately called the two people I knew I just had to see the movie with, Wolfie and my hag! Wolfie’s cell was coming ‘not reachable’, and so I dialed my hag, who was in mourning of her boyfriend of two-and-a-half-years migrating to the states to pursue his masters, and she jumped at the opportunity of seeing Mamma Mia with me. Although she had no idea about the musical, and the only ABBA song she knew well was ‘Dancing Queen’, she was psyched about the fact of finally getting over her mourning-rut and have a fabu-licious time! Later on Wolfie called back and ‘howled’ at the thought of seeing Meryl sing and dance to ABBA songs!
A day before the movie released, my hag called, coughing and wheezing, canceling the plan of seeing Mamma Mia on its first day of release as she had come down with a case of viral fever. I felt bad, because I so wanted to see it with her and Wolfie on the first day on two separate times (I did the same with the release of Enchanted and Sex and the City, saw it for multiple shows during the weekend with different people – there are movie buffs, and then there are movie obsessors like lil ol moi). However, Wolfie was all set to see it with me on its first day of release, and so I was all the more excited!
Now before I carry on with the Mamma Mia story, I need to go back to a couple of weeks where I came across, Kapil, whose name has been changed for purpose of protecting his identity.
On a late Thursday night, I received a message from a guy on a site that I belonged on, let’s call this site, boys4dudes. It was a simple one-line message in which he mentioned that he loved my ‘masked’ picture, especially my beautiful green eyes. Rolling my eyes, I replied, ‘Thank you, although I can’t really take that as a compliment because just like my mask, the green eyes are a creation of Photoshop’. By the time the commercial break of ‘Everyone Hates Chris’ was over, I had received another message from him, claiming that it was alright, he preferred the shape of my nose and jaw to my ‘green eyes’. I laughed as this was in fact the first ‘original’ compliment I had received in a while. He had also attached a picture of him with the message. Not to be over critical, but it wasn’t the most flattering picture to send – bad camera angle which totally robs one of a chin, he was wearing a hideocous blue and white check oxford work-shirt, and he looked exhausted after a long day at work. Nevertheless, despite all that going against him, I gave him the official ranking of 7 outta 10, and proceeded to respond with a goodnight message, as it was time for me to head to bed and wake up the next morning for Yoga.
The next day, we exchanged a fleet of semi-flirtatious messages. Unlike the standard messages one tends to receive from the regulars on the sites, his messages were articulate, well structured, and he could flirt without coming across as too corny or cheesy. I got the impression that he was definitely an Air Sign (Gemini, Libra, or Aquarius), cause he was oh-so-smooth with his flirty lines. By the time it was seven in the evening, he informed that he had to go somewhere to meet his family for a dinner, and asked for my number so that he could call me later that night.
By eleven thirty that night I received a call from him. Usually I would never entertain a call at that time of night, but I was up and facing a case of weekend insomnia. Plus there was no Yoga to wake up for the next morning. We proceeded to chat with mild flirty undertones, but before we knew it, we began discussing a wide variety of subjects that had nothing to do with anything gay or flirty. From fantasy dream vacations, to the dreaded 2012 doomsday, we kept on and on without having a single weird silent pauses which are filled with um, er, and uh. This was indeed a rare feat, for rarely does one find someone from such sites with whom you have such great ‘phone chemistry’ without talking anything remotely x-rated. True, we did allow a few flirts to slip in here or there, but they were so well-timed and so well-placed, that it just added to the richness of our conversation. In fact, even when I joked about the lame shirt he had on in the pic he sent me, he laughed and claimed that it was his way of saying he was ‘straight-acting’.
By the time we realized it was one thirty in the morning, we gasped at the fact that we had been up chatting for two-and-a-half hours, without even realizing it. It truly didn’t seem that long, we were having so much fun, and he was one of the few people from such sites who made me laugh out loud on the phone (and not my fake-to-be-polite-laugh). We hung up after he said he’d call me on Sunday, as Saturday he would be slaving away in the corporate world during the day, and then at an office party at night.
The following Sunday morning, we stayed in bed and spoke on the phone for three hours nonstop. In fact, we forgot to even eat breakfast, as we were so engrossed in our conversation. We spoke about virtually everything under the sun. Be it teachers whom we despised while growing up (in my case, rotten Hindi teachers who were fat chinless bitches; in his case, rotten Vice-Principles on a power trip) or even favorite Pasta sauces (me – carbonara, he – pesto). We chatted about favorite cartoon shows from our childhood (me – Jem and the Holograms, he – Garfield), and even made guilty confessions about things we’d rarely admit to anyone else – example: me having a secret fantasy of being a Vegas-Style showgirl. Our phone chemistry was sizzling, and we didn’t even make any naughty innuendos yet. Although there was a lil discussion about the kind of underwear we wore to bed, and something along the lines of me being a whore for expensive gourmet chocolate with him claiming to do something with melted chocolate and a part of his body; however, the way we said it, it sounded sweet and playful. After three hours of chatting, we hung up and decided to get out of bed and take a shower and get on with our respective days.
If that wasn’t enough, he even called me in the early evening and chatted for a good hour-and-a-half, and then later at eleven to say goodnight (after I sent him a ‘goodnight’ text). Needless to say, I was one smitten-kitten!
As the week progressed, I hadn’t heard from him. It was now Wednesday, and still no sign of him. I had no idea what was going on, so I decided to call him. He didn’t pick up my call. I figured I’d give him the benefit of doubt and wait for a text or call from him. It was now Thursday, and the b-word didn’t bother calling or texting! I called again, but this time he disconnected the call. With a jaw dropped in appall, I called Wolfie and explained to him the entire scenario. When I told him that he was a closeted Top, Wolfie replied that it was standard procedure.
Apparently there is an unwritten game that goes on in the dating scene. Tops shower a bottom with charm and flattery and all the attention in the world, and then go MIA, to get the Bottom all riled up and chase after them. The way to get the Top’s attention back is to go MIA yourself, forcing the Top to get off his ‘high horse’ and call and once again shower you with attention. I was disgusted when I heard about it, for I personally can’t stand such weird games that just leave a person mindfucked at the end. After all, dating in the gay scene in this city is as it is such a hard thing, to add these kinda games into the entire equation just make matters all the more shitty. Wolfie advised that I shouldn’t get all emotional over him, in fact, I shouldn’t ever get emotional over someone until and unless I’ve met them live and in-person, and they call me afterwards as well. Disheartened by all the cynicsm that seemed to flavor the gay world, I hung up and began to pout at how stupid I felt for being smitten over such a guy.
Fifteen minutes later, he called! Although on the phone I was my usual cool-breezy self, the inner me was jumping with joy like a cheerleader on E. He explained that he was caught up working late nights at office on a super huge presentation that involved a major 9-figure business deal. Although ‘numbers’ rarely impress me, I was glad to just hear his voice after all this time. We went on to chat for an hour as he was taking a break from working on his presentation. On our Sunday conversation, we had planned on meeting up on Saturday the 13th. I asked if he would still be free to meet, he said he’d love to, as meeting me would be just what he needed in order to unwind from the hectic week. I suggested we watch Mamma Mia (he didn’t have to know I was gonna see it with Wolfie on Friday) and he agreed and asked me to text him the various show times and theaters near our respective areas for sometime in the evening. After we hung up, I called Wolfie and began screaming operatic notes of joy that he called. Wolfie laughed and began teasing me that I liked him. True, I was blushing like a ripe strawberry, but I didn’t care! This was gonna be one fabulous weekend!
On Friday the 12th, I rushed to Waves Noida and got the 11:10 pm show of Mamma Mia. The reason I went all the way there was because, on the opening of a movie, any Noida theater would be the only place one would manage to get tickets for the late night show. Plus an English movie, and that too a musical, is not something the average Noida-ite would be interested in. I remember when Dreamgirls was released, I saw it at Waves, where this group of college kids who were sitting behind me made comments like, “Yaar, ye kaale log itna chilate kyon hai?” Plus with the DND flyway, it only took 15 minutes to drive from my place over to Noida, so no need to rush at all.
Wolfie arrived at my place at 9, where to kill time, I showed him clips from Rocky Horror Picture Show, where we so fawned over Tim Curry’s outfit in ‘Sweet Transvestite’ (if Halloween is ever celebrated here, I’m so going as him), and we laughed at a young Susan Sarandon’s breasts being pressed by a hunky blonde Nord during ‘Creature of the Night’. Afterwards, we headed off to Waves with the Wicked Cast Recording blarring from my car speakers. I didn’t play the Mamma Mia soundtrack mainly cause I wanted to experience every song as ‘fresh’ as I possibly could.
Upon our arrival, we were shocked to see that there were a total of merely twelve people in the entire hall. And all except the two of us were hetero couples! We waited patiently in the lounge for the doors to open, where we began passing our ‘elitist-judgment’ upon the couples around us. One in particular was the lamest - very obvious looking call-center trolls that probably purchased the tickets so that they could sit in a quiet corner and make out. Who on earth would wanna make out in a singing and dancing gay extravaganza?!?!
Once the doors were open, to our surprise, all the couples were seated at distant parts of the hall, where as Wolfie and I were seated in the middle of the hall for optimal viewing! Giving us all the liberty to sing and dance without being bothered by anyone.
And so the movie began, with Wolfie and I clapping our hands and cheering for the opening credits. I let out a squeal of delight when I realized that the ‘Sing-a-long’ edition was released in India. A ‘sing-a-long’ edition is basically when musical movies are played in the hall with subtitled lyrics for all the songs for the audience to sing-a-long with the movie. So hence if anyone did object to our singing, we could say, “This is the Sing-a-long edition bitch! The producers ‘want’ us to sing and dance in the middle of the hall!” However, no one did object to our singing, and we sang and danced along to the movie!
The movie was even gayer than I expected! Not being one to give away any details to the plot (which to be honest wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out) but there are scenes where Meryl is dressed in gaudy-yet-fabulous 70’s ABBA-style clothing, and in not one, but TWO songs, a chorus line of hunky Greek men in Speedos dance and sing and flex their gorgeous sun-kissed muscles! Meryl sings like a dream, and Amanda Seyfried sings really good as well. Dominic Cooper, who plays Amanda’s fiancé in the movie is a total hottie, and throughout the movie, we see his gorgeous 6-pac abs! Pierce Brosnan sings like shit, but oh well, he’s still handsome and sexy despite being old and not having gorgeous 6-pac abs. Colin Firth looks hilarious in the brief flashback scene as a punk rocker, and we’ll all have a delicious surprise regarding him at the end of the movie. And look out for a bare ass scene with two-eyes tattooed on them.
And I won’t give out any more details, except tell you all to wait for the credits at the end. You’ll be in for a big song and dance extravaganza, with tones of costumes. So when you go for the movie, put on your dancing shoes and wear your most fabulous 70s inspired garb, and grab all your girlfriends and ‘girlfriends’ and have a gay ol time singing and dancing in the middle of the hall.
After the movie, Wolfie and I exited the hall singing and dancing away to glory. All was super-fabulous and bright, until Wolfie asked me if Kapil called to confirm which show and which hall we’ll be seeing the movie at. I checked my phone (like a good boy I always put my phone on silent mode while watching a movie), and to my disappointment, there was no missed call, nor a text, from Kapil. I didn’t want to rain on my parade that night, so I just rationalized that he must be slaving away late in the night working on his presentation so that he could spend tomorrow with me. In my head that sounded like a reasonable explanation. Although personally, I find it downright rude when someone doesn’t bother at least sending a text to confirm plans the night before.
The next morning, I was semi-freaking out. The b-word still hadn’t called me. I was up at nine-thirty and was pacing up and down my room visualizing numerous possible scenarios as to why he hadn’t called me yet. By the time it was eleven, against my better judgment, I decided to call him. No answer… Damn him! In a dramatic diva-esque moment, I decided I’d never speak to him again, with a whole Audrey Hepburn inspired ‘Just you wait Henry Higgins’ moment from My Fair Lady. By the end of my rant, he called.
Jumping towards my phone I almost scraped my knee against the bed, but answered it in my sweet-yet-demure-sexy ‘Hello’. He was groggy, which meant he was asleep hence he couldn’t answer. In my head I was all ‘Aw poor baby is working so hard’, but I still maintained my level of demure. When I asked what time we’d be meeting today, to my horror, he bailed out on me claiming he had to go to a family function this evening. Upon my asking what kind of function (I used the iciest cool tone possible while the inner me was spitting fires of rage), he informed it’s some kind of prayer ritual as a post nuptial celebration for his sister’s wedding. I can’t really put my finger on it, but there was something in his tone that was just screaming BULL SHIT! However, being the ‘lady’ that I am I was all calm and poise and smiles, and informed him that we can reschedule accordingly.
I called Wolfie immediately after and narrated the entire conversation, and he too agreed that the whole post nuptial ritual thing was a big excuse. And even if it wasn’t, it wouldn’t have taken him more than two minutes to send me a text or whatever, despite the excuse that he only found out about it late last night. Wolfie tried to remind me that this was part of the whole ‘mindfuck’ game that goes on in the dating world and that I should get over it, and despite all his wise words of both comfort and wisdom, it still hurt me.
Embittered by the entire experience, I tried to drown my sorrows with a the DVD of The King and I, later that afternoon. I don’t know if it was due to the fact that I had seen the movie countless times before, or that I had a late night with Mamma Mia, or that I got my hopes up over a total dud, but while Yul Brynner danced around the room with the fabulous Deborah Kerr, my lids began fluttering and my mouth widened as I collapsed on my arm while curled in the fetal position –my standard afternoon catnap position.
Awoken a few hours later by the trail of sleep-drool that trickled down my arm and Rihanna’s ‘Don’t Stop the Music’ blaring from my cell, I stumbled out of bed and dragged myself to where I kept my phone for charging. Answering it with a groggy, ‘Hello’, my hag hollered back at me with a bellow of concern, “ARE YOU ALRIGHT? IS EVERYTHING OKAY?”
“Huh?” I responded as I stretched my arms in a yawn followed by the standard scratching of my bum.
“Geeze, I understand you are totally clueless of the world around you, but for goodness sakes, put on a news channel for a change!”
“You know darling, this isn’t the best time to really mess with me, I’ve just been…”
“CP HAS BEEN BOMBED!”
All the latent sleep that was within me had now been banished. A terrorist organization known as Indian Mujahideen, had sent a mass email to every media channel across the country that nine bombs were planted in strategic locations of the city five minutes before the first one exploded in the densely populated Gafar Market, followed by two explosions in the famous Connaught Place market, which is the heart of the city, another one at the India Gate monument, and one more at Greater Kailash M-Block Market district. CP and India gate were barely a 10 minute drive from where I stay. It is reported that more than 30 people were killed with over a 100 injured badly.
The news channels were flooded with images of charred and rotting corpses on the streets, as well as, people sobbing at the shock of witnessing such a terrible tragedy, and having lost their friends and loved ones. Reporters were trying to make sense of what was going on, as every minute there would be all sorts of random updates. Especially since there were still four live and unexploded shells hidden somewhere within the city.
I was ever so thankful that none of my friends and loved ones were hurt in any which way by the explosions, but the site of all those corpses, and all those people on the street, lying injured and helpless, and all those crying out loud with agony over the loss of their loved ones. It was a tragic, and in a way, a humbling experience for me.
Luckily, the authorities managed to discover the remaining four unexploded shells and diffused them successfully.
Let us take a moment of silence to acknowledge this incident and pray that justice is served and that all those who have been affected by this tragedy are able to recover and heal and move on with their lives successfully.
(Moment of silence)
On Sunday, I woke up relatively late and was still feeling bruised about being stood up by Kapil in such a manner. I guess it had been so long since I finally had such great mental chemistry with someone, even over the phone, that I made the seemingly cardinal mistake of letting my guard down and developing feelings of some sort for him. I couldn’t understand that why would he spend all those hours on the phone with me and lead me on in such a manner, if he truly wasn’t interested in me to begin with? Was it some sort of twisted way of trying gaining a ‘one-up’ over me in a lame jr.high-style power-game? Was he just bored that he decided to kill sometime and talk with a random stranger just until something better came along? Or was he just like a typical Delhi male and just interested in a quick lay and then got cold feet when he realized that I wasn’t the kind of guy who would just hump anything that came my way? I began replaying all our phone conversations within my head, pacing up and down my bedroom, in the hope of finding some possibly logical reason for such behavior. Then all of a sudden, I remembered the immortal words uttered by Jack Berger from Sex and the City –
“He’s just not that into you!”
At first it did calm me down, only to later bring out to later bring out the waterworks as I just realized that I got hung up over a guy who I had not even met in person, but was also not that into me! Considering I am still a little fragile when it came to my issues with my body and the way I appear, it just wounded my ego all the more. Seriously, could I be a bigger schmuck?
Before I could further wallow in self-pity, my student called to inform me that he would be arriving about fifteen minutes late for his class, causing me to realize I had wasted my entire morning just obsessing over lame-ass Kapil. Showering and changing at hetero-male speed, I had my breakfast and prepared myself for the tarot class that I teach. Upon his arrival, my student who had been with me for about two months, brought over a box of imported chocolates as a token of his appreciation. I was so touched by his incredibly sweet and thoughtful gesture, that as a thank you, I gave him a lil Oracle Reading before we proceeded further with class. Sometimes, when a person is so down, the slightest display of appreciation can enhance their mood dramatically. We had a wonderful class where we sat and joked a lot, while at the same time, I got him to open his mind and expand his intuitive abilities with some fun yet very helpful exercises.
Afterwards, I began watching the DVD of Hairspray, and began singing along with Tracy Turnblad and the entire wacky cast. All was well and good, till she began to sing, ‘I Can Hear the Bells’. This is actually my favorite song in the movie, however, it began reminding me of how I got so hung up over Kapil, that it stirred up all those pathetic feelings within me. The worst part was, the box of chocolates that my student had gifted me were smack in front of me. I know emotional eating is a bad thing, and since I’m losing weight, it’s the worst thing to possibly ever do. And in two years of following my nutritional plan, not once did I allow myself to cheat on my diet, except on the designated day of the month where I was allowed to. But the box was right there, and they were delicious coconut and caramel filled chocolates with all their cocoa goodness! Before I knew it, I had swiped three and stuffed them in my mouth simultaneously.
Shocked and appalled by what I did, I immediately grabbed the box and gave it to my maid, instructing her to hide it in a place where I could never find it, and ran over to my phone and called Wolfie, telling him that I simply HAD to meet him, especially after how I pathetically caved in. The minute I got off the phone, I rushed over to my bathroom and gargled with hot saline water, trying to get the chocolate taste out of my mouth, followed by a long self-imposed scolding, telling myself that no man in this world is worth getting blue and comfort eating over!
Meeting Wolfie later that evening was just what I needed. It got me outta my house and the fresh air really did help clear my mind. We went to a nearby CCD outlet, which to our surprise was virtually empty. I guess people were still freaked by the bomb incident that they were scared to leave the comfort and security of their houses to risk going to crowded market places. Nevertheless, we sat in a plush comfy corner where he began reassuring me that Kapil was a complete and total prick, and that I was way cuter and definitely deserved better than him. It took a while, but finally, he convinced me that I really was better off, and that he was really just another ‘game playing’ wanker. I was still disheartened over the fact that someone would really stoop so low to playing such twisted games just for some kick or the other. Then again, The Bull was like that, and the games he played were worse.
After more consoling, followed by lots and lots of therapeutic bitching, we both left the CCD outlet with bright smiles and giggles and headed back to our respective homes. I caught up with my weekly indulgence of Desperate Housewives, and finished off the DVD of Hairspray, feeling all the more empowered watching Tracy Turnblad kick Amber’s snooty ass in ‘You Can’t Stop the Beat’. Nothing really can kick a my mood up better than a fun musical song and dance number. Dancing and bitching are seriously the best form of therapy. As well as, belting out your feelings in the form of a fabulous song.
The next day, feeling all the more upbeat and fabulous, my hag called me, informing me that she was ditching her work early in the afternoon to meet me. Apparently since her boyfriend had moved to the States, she was feeling the pinch long-distance-relationships bring along with them in a big way. She came over and over hugs and sugar-free lemonade, she poured her heart and ranted all about him not calling her despite having all the free time in the world. I guess it’s all kinds of men, gay and straight, that just love playing power-games of not calling.
Without a moment of hesitation, we got into my car and headed towards Saket for the 7:10 show of Mamma Mia. A once super crowded market where finding a parking space is a nightmare, Saket was virtually empty. I guess people were still freaked out about the entire bombing incident. On the plus side, we easily got tickets, and once again, our hall was virtually empty, giving us all the liberty to sing and dance with the cast of the movie and the fabulous ABBA numbers.
And that was my superfun fabulous Mamma Mia ‘Dhamaka’ weekend!