Paradise Lost

It's been almost 4 weeks for me in the city of joy.I can't properly calculate the amount of joy i have received but it's not been very bad here.The 5 min trip from here to dumdum via a local train is well,hell but i am almost starting to enjoy it.People packed inside claustrophobic coaches like sardines in a tin can,sweat dripping from your temples mingles with the sweat dripping from someone's palms until each and every person feels the same or at least smells the same.It's true.There's a surprising homogeneity found in the local trains.I maybe wearing branded Levi's jeans and Nike sneakers but i feel no different from the vendor standing beside me who's planning to sell his stale cheese.
Above all a local train bogie is a gay paradise.What can be more fulfilling for a gay person than a train full of sweaty men,bodies clinging together.I have read about the roman orgies.The closest you can get to it in India is here in the local train.It may sound ridiculous but wait until you hear the sounds emanating from the mouths of people as the train leaves the station and mother air breezes into the bogie.The oohs and the aahs are probably more pronounced than in an actual sexual encounter.This plus the fact that nobody is faking.
A few days ago,we had to skip 3 local trains and had to board the 4th one and that too barely with a slice of luck.My friend,the giant of a man in spite of his full might was pushed deep inside the bogie while i was stuck in no man's land for a terrifying few seconds.Finally a strong kick to my ass sent me flying inside to the safe zone.The journey was as hellish as it can get.I was standing on one leg.The other was resting in midair.I wasn't the only unlucky guy as someone Else's leg couldn't find the ground.Unluckily for me the unlucky leg's knee was stuck to my fine arse and threatening to go places where nothing has gone before(Star Trek dejaVu-saw it in IMAX) .It would have been awkward for most people but I'm not one to air my grievances,not always.A stray knee was any day better than a stray hand.That my friends would have been seriously uncomfortable.
I am not absolutely sure(there's always an element of doubt in such cases) but i think,i had the first gay encounter of my life.Not exactly the first one i have seen but the first i had when i was aware of the meaning of the term gay.Don't ask me about the very first ones-to clear the air,it wasn't me the thing was happening to,the victim was a friend of mine,we had no idea what was happening,the guy who was doing whatever the hell he was doing has been in jail for some years now and i wish to keep the identity of the victim a secret(don't want to scar him for the rest of his life).Plus as kids,some of us used to flash our assets in public.But that was perfectly normal.You can blame that on hormones and well,dick-headedness.
About the encounter,it didn't happen in the local train.It happened in the metro.That's the reason i can tell.In the local train even if you have someone's pelvic region rubbing around your posterior,you are willing to take a chance.After all everyone there is the victim of the country's overpopulation and the government's apathy.But in metros,the case is otherwise.It's perfectly possible to maintain a respectable 2 inch difference between your crotch and the next guy.However this guy,not very respectable looking,around 40 years of brown meat,slightly bald was not very keen to do that.Now you may think that I'm gloating but i think that I'm a reasonably attractive man that any guy or girl would like to hang out with.I tried to shove this guy away and was successful for a brief few seconds but his swinging crotch again caught me at the farthest point of its oscillation.Being a man it's not easy to accept defeat,slinking away after being pushed in a train is the last thing you would like to do.So i pushed again with the same exact result.His tingling antennas keenly attached to my unwilling posterior.At this point i turned around to face the guy who with remarkable shamelessness thrust his manhood forward again.It was a direct competition for me now.I felt violated.I longed to make a scene but the alien that I'm to this place,i couldn't risk tackling a Bengali in his homeground.Even a homosexual bengali with the fiery Bong rhetoric is a dangerous opposition.There's a thing about Bengalis.They are usually the most docile ones when it comes to fighting.On the physical front,i can take on a regiment of Bengalis quite successfully.Bengalis detest violence.But they don't detest shouting or unnecessarily airing their views.
Consider a situation.You meet a Bengali and get into an argument.The Bengali will be more verbose and will be shouting at a deafening level even though you urge peace.You can't stand it any longer.You punch the guy in the face,kick him in the groin but you can't stop him from speaking.You get tired.You walk away but you can still hear the Bengali shouting after you.The moral victory is always with the Bengali.You can't have it.The Bengali got to have the last word in everything.
Sorry i drifted away from the encounter.So finally i placed my hands in front as my last line of defense.I think some of you could smell my victory but alas it was not to be.Now my dear perpetrator had the luxury of a free handjob.I gave up tired,defeated and shifted my position away from his basecamp.
Dear friends,i haven't tasted such a defeat for a long time and its memory will linger in my consciousness for a long time.For the first time i have to admit defeat in my very own pages with my very own words.The taste of defeat isn't just sour.It's acrid.I can say nothing but Goodbye for now.Hope to see you soon and maybe next time we'll share the spoils of my victory.
Adios!!