I've always wondered about this. What is it about our upper-middle class club-culture-seeped Indians that makes them hug and kiss everybody in the vicinity of their Chanel and Shahtoosh, or their Tommy Hilfiger and Hugo Boss, dripping false familiarity while they size you up, to reckon whether the shoes you're wearing are off the streets of Bangkok [they're Khadim's, thank you] or whether the pair of faded jeans are [wozzit they said? blow-dried?] Levi's or [stone-chipped?] Lee. They're worn-and-torn Bare jeans, if you please.
I mean, the first time you're introduced to a lady and you find your face stuffed into the folds of her zardosi or whatchamacallit- is not what I call a pleasant feeling. And whatever happened to men smiling gallantly and shaking hands? What the hell, whatever happened to our good ol' namaste?! It's a perfectly dignified, [hygienic] way of greeting a person. I say, while we're being good and honest here, I do NOT like having another woman's breast pressed against mine, and i do NOT like men I barely know wetting my cheek with their lips!! I mean, I'm fine with hugging - but only when I've known a person for years and am especially happy to see her/him. Mostly I would hug when in areas of deep emotional crises - but generally, I like to keep aside such gentle fondling for the very-close and the most-beloved [that boils down to about 4 people in my life, as I distressingly find]. But I fail to understand widespread petting of one another just because it's the way to be in fashionable circles in Paris [pronounced pah-ree. roll the 'r']. I mean I understand that this is common in the West and, really even here I have nothing against such aping - leave me out of it, is awl I'm saying. Me, I'm awl for the folding of the hands and the light bowing of the head. The handshake even. There's variety in that - 5 or 6 different ways to shake a person's hand, depending on mood and occasion as D had rattled off when he'd freshly returned from training for his job.
So, tell me true, dear reader, is there a latent homophobe of sorts lurking wildly among the fatty acids that make up my being? 'Tis a most worrying thought.