Games We Play

Games are prevalent in the animal kingdom. Everyone loves to get involved in a little bit of brow-arching, brain-teasing, muscle-flexing fun especially when it all "climaxes" into an equally exciting finale.

Confused? Don't jump off the page yet and don't you reach out to the X on the right most corner of this page… for now just sit back and read….. it will all come together at the end of the game.

Talking about games; we see animals and birds play games all the time. They dancing, singing, turning upside down, spreading feathers, emanating odors, making all sorts of sounds; all of this for that prized "conquering of the concubine". Are these games genetic or generic? Do they play by rules? How is their game different from ours? Are we aware of games we play?

From New York to New Delhi, we are all looking for love and partnership in life. For some sex comes with love and partnership while others consider the three to be mutually exclusive. I decided to break my 2 years of self-imposed exile, away from the territory of love, partnership and sex, after my last long-term relationship. And this time I decided to look for my "rope-climbing-prince-charming" through the virtual window. The online world offered infinite opportunities to meet people without exposing my identity until trust and comfort unveiled the mask. There I was in the online bazaar where love and relationship were being sold like commodities.

Sadly but truly, most gay men have to marry for social reasons. But that didn't prevent them from engaging in casual sex on the side or for that matter a "relationship". Those were games of different kind, it would involve meeting, sex, love, confessions (not necessarily in that order) and then playing along till the truth would be out in the open, breaking a house, a heart or two. I was aware of those kinds of games and cautiously stayed away from them.

I had my choice of game with the rules and game plan clearly laid out. My online profile was neat, sorted and candid, alteast I thought so. "Here I am 32, single, professionally successful, and pausing my life (is it re-virginization?), LOL! Do men ever pause? I feel funny, stupid and surprised about my life. The 20s was action packed, 26 got me a boy friend and 30 made me single again. Bad luck! Is it recession from now on? You know how lonely it feels at the crossroads, any takers or walkers? Stalkers stay away!!"

There were many takers for this profile, but the tough part was finding someone who would agree to play the game. There were points to be earned and rules to be followed – my rules. There were only two simple rules - No measuring the meat till friendship matures into relationship and only single men with belief in monogamy and relationship can play.

I started the screening process through phone calls and coffee meets. One after another I kept meeting people. They came in all shapes and sizes with varying levels of libido and maturity and after the initial screenings only a few remained on the sieve because not all of them spoke the truth online or on the phone. In the end I realized that there was another game being played at the side, the one between me and the coffee shop owner and he was winning all the money – ALL THIS WHILE.

Searching for relationship and love is like looking for water in a desert, there is always a mirage to look forward to. The walk can be protracted, dry and tiresome, but then when you find one the journey becomes meaningful and the hardships turn into bed of roses. So, in quest of my knight in shining armor, I continued to play.

Like every other game, this game had its audiences too. Cheering, jeering, hooting – my audience were my close friends, who kept me going. Encouraging, pushing, sometimes even threatening me to not give up my friends, who were seasoned players, made sure that I didn’t leave the arena. Stamina building exercises – they called it. I was optimistic and I wanted to succeed and at the same time I didn't want to hurt or get hurt and so I decided to go slow.

My glib talk (read harmless flirting) and marketing collaterals (read interesting profile pictures) sometimes invited wrong audience – either married men or harried men. May be I was sending wrong messages? Mr. Penguin was one of the few men who managed to get filtered through my coffee meets. Hovering around 27 - the ideal marriageable age for a typical Indian stereotype, he was going through the inevitable ritual of bride selection. The whole idea was to get married, make his mother happy and continue with the “games” on the side. So there he was, out in the market masquerading his gayness as his mother window-shopped for a bride.

Having slept-around with random men in my past, my closet was full of soiled and torn jerseys from the games that I had lost. I could maintain a few old ones in my closet with a dry wash, but most were beyond repair. Penguin was smart, a little plump with a sad look in his eyes. He was fun to be with and soon we became good friends. By now the rules were set, he was to get married and we were just friends. I realized that this game was too complex for me and so I decided to be a fence-sitter instead of playing along.

We often met for coffee chat, a few nights we drove around the city, a few nights we spent in his room drowning in music and sharing each others life experiences. That was more interesting and energetic than caffeine joints. I cautiously managed the game and never let it cross the boundary of friendship. Taking a shot from the penalty corner meant losing the game.

I felt I was progressing well in this game of walking the tight rope between being friends and being “buddies”. And just when I thought that managing relationships was my cup of tea, I realized that storms can brew in tea cups too. I was afraid of loosing friendships and I kept playing the game out of compassion in-spite of his increasingly demanding ways.

Before I realized, he had stalled his marriage plans. He slowly turned possessive and wanted to know my co-ordinates every minute. Flipping through my phone book contacts, reading my SMSes while I wasn’t around and walking out of the movie hall in the middle of the movie because I spent a few extra minutes with acquaintances. Thorough possessiveness over nothing. I was distraught with his juvenile behavior.

I realized he belonged to the sub-junior category and he need more hours in the field to graduate to the next level of professionalism. But the game and rules always remained same for both categories. That was that, I could see myself falling-off the tight rope, and decided to call it quits. The game was over.

We all chose to see what we want to see and conveniently ignore other things. Call it our blind spot? He was playing in my blind spot for a while, until I realized that there was no breathing space and my individual identity was disappearing. I ignored the storms in the beginning, but if I had paid more attention to it I could have called off the game sighting inclement weather. I was depressed after this one also entered my closet of soiled relationship.

We live in an age of 20/20 and test matches are already history. The players are expected to recover faster after injuries, get refreshed for tournaments in short breaks and play shorter and high-intensity innings. I kept dribbling hope but with cautious optimism. And this time I decided to change the venue to Mumbai, a progressive city with sorted sapiens. Missed opportunity was as expensive and sometimes more expensive than a used opportunity. I didn't want to miss any opportunity to “play”.

So the venues were booked, the rules set and the spectators I am glad were left uninformed. I was to meet two different guys in Mumbai’s, both of whom were aware of my other meeting.
The first one belonged to the Bonobo society, his actions were loud and clear and all it said was "let us make love and not friendship". I had no option other than giving him a red card and getting him off the field. Our rules of engagement were different and the match was called off. Very soon the community newspaper carried a front page article on this “miss-match” and painted it with malice and ill-will. May be that was the progressive culture of Mumbai?

Having lost the first game, I parted ways with civility. I was eagerly looking forward to the second match with enthusiasm and caution. I decided to play this game analytically and logically and not emotionally. I loosened up the rules of the game and let some fore-play before the match with the hope that it would ignite more passion.

He was in the midst of making a career move and relationship was not on his priority list. He liked me but wanted to play this game later and held me in abeyance. I didn’t want to be used like a “Joker” in the pack of cards. The probability of playing was less than 50/50. Some games just end with net practice, some games turn out to be friendly for exploration. I didn't lose the match, but I didn't win either – can I call it inconclusive?

Life is not about winning the game, but just sustaining till the end. Some games are good in short format and some are good in long format, but each game has it exciting moments. Importantly audiences, referees and coaches are always a part of the game and they keep the players motivated. Senior and seasoned players know tricks to win the game, some cooperate and play the game, some convince and play the game and some deceive and play the game. It's one of those basic games that structures life. Should I get back to the field or wilderness?