Gay and single in the city: Why am I so obsessed with sex?

Editor’s note: This is the first of a series of columns by KM, who will write about being 30, gay and single in Delhi. by KM Single in a big city. Just turned thirty. Gay (or at least partly gay, as Vikram Seth would put it, considering I’ve had my share of flings with women). Living with my mother. Does that make for a disturbing phase in one’s life or an interesting topic for a column? Both, I suppose. This morning as I came back to my mother’s place after a night over at one of my best straight friends, I felt at ease. But the last three weeks hadn’t quite been restful. I quit my high paying job in Bombay after merely six months of joining, and returned to Delhi on the same salary to work with a startup. Some friends credit me for quitting on principle- I had a disagreement with the management on, let’s just say, ethics of journalism. Other friends wonder if this is just an unstable phase in my life. [caption id=“attachment_1721729” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  Representational image: Reuters[/caption] In the last one year I have lived in three cities, had three jobs, one boyfriend, four flings, a few hookups, and most recently, a two week long ‘date’. Was turning thirty supposed to be this unsettling? Or am I to believe my friends who suggest I’m at the cusp of the best decade of my life? I wait for to hear from a potential date as I write this column sitting on a bed in my mother’s tiny little flat in a lower middle class neighborhood of south Delhi. My mother is visiting my aunt and like a hormonal teenager I want to make the most of the situation. It is said that in the gay world that having a place of one’s own is a big thing. For men who don’t live on their own, the moment there is some privacy they want to get it on like rabbits in spring. As should I. However mother’s been away for a good couple of days now but I haven’t been able to find the ‘right’ person to make use of the available ‘place’ with. Truth be told, until two days ago I didn’t want to either. Why? Well, because I thought I was seeing a special someone. I met, let’s call him A, at a mutual friend’s place and was instantly struck by that cute face with beautiful eyes and amazing smile. The minute he walked out the door I sent him a Facebook friend request. Within hours we were chatting nineteen to the dozen. He is a photographer and likes clicking portraits of children. We told each other about our work, our lives, our exes. At that point I couldn’t tell he was still into his first ex. Maybe he wasn’t expressive enough. Maybe I had rose-tinted glasses on. The next two weeks were spent chatting on text messages and meeting up for a few dates, until one day he says, “We are going too fast”! I was taken aback but, to be honest, also a little relieved. For the most part when we were around each other I found I was bored. Maybe we didn’t have much in common to talk about or maybe I thought I had just lost the art of conversation. He had insisted that we shouldn’t have sex straight away and I had agreed, because thinking back, I realised most of my relationships began with sex and ended when it dried up. And I have begun to wonder if they’ve all been just about sex. Is that the reason why I’m single and alone at thirty? At times I have felt I am obsessed with sex even though I had been abstaining since I got back to Delhi. You might think two weeks of no sex is no big deal but in the gay world – atleast in the online space I inhabit – every man to man interaction tends to begin with the question – ‘your preference? Are you a top, bottom or versatile?’ The next question is ‘do you have a place?’ Until a few years ago, when Grindr and Planet Romeo hadn’t brought in the concept of geolocation, the first question used to be – ASL – Age, Sex, Location. I’m no different. Or atleast so I used to think. But are things changing with age? After all I have had a ‘place’ for four days now and made no good use of it. Sure I wanted to respect A’s wish but dating hasn’t stopped me from sleeping around before. Why now then? Is this just a phase or are the 30s really going to turn things around? 30 mins later. I just made out with a guy I met on Grindr. Yes, I had sex after two weeks. Do I feel guilty? No. I guess sometimes there is no more to life than pure testosterone. A week later. Just when I thought I had written the perfect piece for my first column, I got a valuable piece of advice from a 20-year-old. “You are making sound as if being gay all about sex,” he said as he read the draft of my column after we made out in my ex-boyfriend’s bedroom. I realised he had a point. Why do I have so much sex? By now, I know the exact drill. You decide on a person and a place. He comes over. You try to make small talk. You make out. You go to the washroom and cleanup. Then you shake hands and show him out. It’s the same every time. So why do I do it over and over again? Is sex the replacement for some kind of emotional void for me? Or can I claim that it provides an alternative to the lack of social acceptibility? Or maybe I am simply too lazy to work on a proper relationship? All I have is questions at this point. But I suppose at 30 that’s good enough. KM is your average boy-next-door based in Delhi. Every week, he will offer a dark yet humourous account of his quest to find love and emotional stability