When I attended my first gb meet about three weeks ago in Mumbai, I told the participants about a blackmailing incidence I faced several years ago. That day practically sealed my fate as far as being on the scene is concerned - until the `net' age dawned and gave me an opportunity to speak up through an impersonal media, and - occasionally to venture out more than I had ever been, like attending the meeting and also making some very decent friends through the message I had put on the list. Vikram has been keen to see me sharing the story to a wider audience, to everyone's benefit. Unfortunately work kept me off but come Easter and we have this splendid four-day weekend here in UK. So `Hallelujah' I said and set my fingers to the keyboard. Here goes…

Year 1994, day and month hardly remembered but it was winter and I was researching in the Mumbai University library. An eight yearlong relationship in my life - my first one ever - had ended about 15  months back. To be frank - I was feeling `starved'. While returning from work one evening I picked up on a young man, may be in his early twenties, at Churchgate. Now wait, you folks, before you  say, "thought as much, what a potentially dangerous area to cruise", etc. etc., let me say it once again - this was happening 7 years back and in any case how could one know that adverse things may happen  till they happen to YOU! Very naïve indeed…any way, coming back to the story -We exchanged glimpses and caught the optic hint - he followed me and we took to `C' road. There we chatted for half an hour, on various topics. His name was `Rajesh' said he and hailed from Ahmednagar, was working as a small time clerk in a private outfit, spoke fairly good English, seemed very sober and outwardly neat - it was not my intention to have a quicky at the first go, as it has always been. 

Then we decided to meet up on another day. He kept the appointment, quite happily for me, and we ended up going for a snack. This time there were some advances to brass tacks and the perennial question came up - what about the space? He sounded remorseful and gave me a feeling that I was missing on a great opportunity by not having one to myself. "We'll see tomorrow", he said, "I have access to a friend's flat after he goes off to work". 

- So far so good, "so where shall we meet?"

-"See me at Charni Road station at 10.30 AM"

- "Very well...till tomorrow, then..."

And I walked off.

The next day I gazed out of the train as it pulled in at Charni Road. There he was, waiting for me. I met up and he said, "let's cross over to Queen's Road".

- "Where are we heading to?"

"Just to a building near French Bridge, you know the one…" and he described the location.

We ascended the bridge next to Charni Road station, one that leads to Birla Matushri or Chowpattee and located at the far north end, outside the station. We turned right to head for Queen's road and he held my hand. I smiled back and after two steps, found myself surrounded by four men!

"Kyun be, Gaand maarne jaataa hai kya?" - they were not exactly short of words!

My first reaction was to fumble, make a face as surprised as I can and say, "What made you think that way?" But no words came out of my mouth. Instead, I threw up garbled murmur, monosyllabic notes that meant nothing - except delivering the message to them that they had hit the g-spot for fear in my brain. The train of questions continued, in very explicit language, and soon caught up with gestures of intimidation. All this was happening in broad daylight at about 11 AM, and there wasn't anyone on the bridge except a few stray dogs.

"We know this boy, he has this nasty habit, we've caught him once before - haven't we, Bhainchyut?" and one of them thrashed `Rajesh's face. He enacted fear, but to me it was all clear - I was surrounded by goons, including Rajesh, and was susceptible to anything including physical violence. Meanwhile one of them manhandled me looking whether I was wearing any jewellery, which thankfully I was not. They took out my wallet and scanned through - there were only 40 rupees. They did take a wrong step - they dragged the conversation by far and gave me a lapse to compose myself out of the initial shock and trepidation. Now they were asking my name, my address, what do I do, etc. etc. - to which I gave straight answers, nearly all of them false. Then push comes to shove - "Well, we want 10000 rupees to get you out of the situation".

- "What situation?"

-"The fact that you have this nasty habit..."

- "But everyone knows about it. My parents are in Delhi and I live with my aunt here and she knows all about it..." No, that wasn't the case. I was not out....I AM not out. But it worked dramatically. The demand came steadily down to 2000 and gave me more and more breathers. 

- "Look, you are not getting anything out of me".

-"Come with us to the Police Station", came the last ploy.

- "Where would you like to go? Gamdevi is close by. I'd see the police than give you any money". That sealed everything as far as they were concerned.

So finally they let me go - unharmed and not short of anything - except my confidence. When I told the story to the fellows at the meeting someone indeed said I was `lucky' - because I escaped. Others were said to have paid vast sums to keep such folks quiet. I frankly think to count myself as `lucky' would at best be parochial - the others were just more `unlucky' than I was. So what changes did the incidence brought to me? What did I miss out as a result and what were the plus points, if any? What made me react the way I did, what was that caused such an unprecedented show of deception that ultimately came to my rescue? 

Many questions swarmed my mind as I headed home in a cab - too shaken to walk even to the Opera House bus stop. Well, the first thing the whole episode did was it completely kept me off the scene for all these years. Subsequently, I came to Europe, lived in France, Germany, and now England....relatively safe societies for alternative lifestyles, one would think. But the presentiment was strong enough to keep me away even here. I think that was a great loss to my persona - emotionally taking much more than having to pay up a blackmailer's demand. What made the impact? In retrospect, I think it was the vulnerability about the whole situation I perceived that afternoon, I still think about it in shades of van Gogh Yellow. Secondly, it was the sense of betrayal and deceit. 

After all, we had met more than once, three times in fact, and he seemed so decent. The calculative undercurrent of the whole affair churned my mind out of it's wits. The plus points were there too - I stayed away much to the benefit of my health, much to the facilitation of not falling into the crypts of promiscuity and ending up as a Sex junkie. Now I know these last statements may sound I have grown into a cynic about my sexuality and even ruffle a few feathers. But that's the way I look at it.  Years passed and one day gb dawned upon me, took me to a different world. I am now getting reconciled to the way I am - not enough to `come out', which I firmly believe is an extremely personal affair. It's nice to see oneself objectively, from a distance - that's a sentimental, almost narcissistic experience. I believe it will lead me somewhere I always wanted to be.

--Shailen

PS: Although it is quite difficult to judge, I am curious to know whether anyone else has been a victim of the same group. One rather detailed, nevertheless significant, physical aspect about `Rajesh' stuck with me - he had six fingers to his right hand. This may help potential victims the gang may still try to have a go at. Now before everyone shouts `Hrithik Roshan' - as Viraf indeed did at the meeting - let me clarify that the additional finger was the little one. And Hrithik was unheard of in 1994 anyway! 

Back to Index!