During the summer of 1984, just after we got our M.A. degrees in English, my friend Viju invited me to visit his family in India for two weeks.
Except for trips to Agra and Varanasi, we spent most of our time in Delhi, hanging out with his parents, sister Aruna, and old university friends, We went to a bodybuilding competition, a lot of shopping malls, and since I was interested in religion, a lot of temples and mosques.
There were no gay bars, bathhouses, community centers, or gay organizations in India, but there was a lot of public sex in Jahanpanah City Forest. You saw a guy you liked, nodded, and followed him into the bushes.
Viju said that it was perfectly safe: although "sodomy" was technically illegal, the police didn't believe that it existed in India, so they didn't patrol.
I was a little hesitant, but when a tall, slim, very dark skinned guy in his 30s smiled at me, Viju whispered "Go for it!" I followed him into a little copse, where he was already unzipped and aroused, his dark Bratwurst with a thick mushroom head a striking contrast to his white pants. As I went down on him, I felt his hard muscular chest under his shirt, then moved around and grabbed his butt. He groaned.
A moment later, he finished with a shudder, then pulled me to my feet and drew me into a kiss. "My name is Arshad. You are an American, yes?"
"Right. I'm here visiting my friend."
"I guessed that. I love American boys -- you have an energy, an excitement." I felt him becoming aroused again. "Would you have dinner with me tonight?"
"I'll have to ask if Viju has plans for us..."
"Invite him along, too. The Host at 8:00? But first, if you're not too tired..."
He pushed me to my knees again. This time took a little longer, but not much. Three or four minutes, and he groaned and shuddered and thrust deeply into my throat.
The Host turned out to be a very bright, airy, and expensive restaurant on Connaught Circus, about a half hour by car from Viju's house.
"But originally I am from Ahmedabad, in Gujarat," Arshad told us. "A Parsi. Have you heard of us?" .
Parsis -- Zoroastrians! The ancient monotheistic religion that competed with Christianity in the first and second centuries. Ahura Mazda and Ahriman, light and darkness, order and chaos. The Avestas. Zarathustra. Fire temples!
"You are very intelligent as well as handsome," Arshad said, cutting me off.
"Boomer is very interested in religion," Viju said. "Me, not much. I look toward the future, not the past." He grabbed Noel's hand -- or crotch, I couldn't tell -- under the table.
"Then you must let me take you on a tour of the spiritual sites of Delhi. I will take tomorrow off from work. There are temples for Hindus, Sikhs, Jains, Baha'is..."
"Christian churches, mosques..." Noel added.
"A Zoroastrian fire temple?" I asked eagerly.
"Of course, of course," Arshad said, looking down at the menu. "We will tour that as well."
We finished the evening at Arshad's apartment. Noel and Viju took the guest room, and Arshad brought me into the master bedroom, where I went down on him four more times, with kissing in between.
Six times in one day! My jaw ached, and my throat hurt from the constant banging. Yet Arshad never touched me beneath the belt.
Oh, well, at least tomorrow I would see a Zoroastrian fire temple.
That was impressive.
Then another half-hour drive east to the Lotus Temple, sacred to the Baha'i religion.
Ok, but what about the Fire Temple?
Back into town, 30 minutes north to the Jama Masjid, a huge mosque.
I already saw it, but ok, I didn't mind seeing it again.
Back to Arshan's apartment for lunch and another bedroom session. Twice in ten minutes!
Ok, my jaw is sore. What about the Fire Temple?
Another 30 minutes around Connaught Circus to the Lakshi Narayan Mandir, a Hindu temple that I had already visited.
It was late afternoon. We had been reverent all day. I was getting "church fatigue." Not to mention "jaw fatigue." Who would ever have thought that you could get tired of oral sex?
"Next the Sacred Heart Cathedral" Arshad said. "It's only a few blocks from here."
Interesting, but I had seen Catholic churches before.
He looked away. "Sure, sure, I suppose. It's only a few blocks away."
We got into his car and drove east on Nehru Boulevard. Just past a gigantic hospital complex, we turned right on Bahadur Shah Road.
"The Parsi Anjuman is there on the left," Arshad said as we zipped by.
It was a small, square building with a pillared portico and some vaguely Babylonian fretwork.
"Hey, aren't we going to stop?"
"Oh, there's nothing much to see inside. And I'm getting hungry. Shall we have dinner?"
"Hey, what gives? We spend all day touring the sacred sites of Jains, Hindus, Muslims, Sikhs, Bahai's, and Christians, but when it comes to your own religion, you zoom past at 80 miles an hour."
"Sorry. But...it's just that..." He stroked my knee. "One who is unclean may not enter the temple."
"Not you -- me. I'm unclean. I'm the one who has spilled his seed. My religion teaches that those who do such things are like dogs, filthy beasts."
I looked at Arshad. Did he actually believe that nonsense, think of himself as a filthy beast? It was hard to tell. "Well...my childhood religion, the Nazarenes, have some crazy beliefs, too. I suppose I wouldn't want to give you a tour of the their church either."
But still, the "filthy beast" statement made me feel uncomfortable. After dinner, I refused another bedroom session, and asked Arshad drop me off at Viju's house. We exchanged addresses, but didn't write.
Modern Zoroastrians seem to be more accepting of gay people, at least in the U.S. I saw an article on a gay Christian-Zoroastrian wedding held at the chapel of Northwestern University.
See also: 20 Preacher Penises; a Bodybuilding Contest in India
It is interesting that Arshad only wanted to be the top, even though his religion taught that the top was "unclean." If being the bottom was ok, why didn't he bottom instead?
ReplyDeleteWell, the most famous Zoroastrian in the past half-century was Freddie Mercury, so take that for what you will.
ReplyDelete