Wednesday, October 6, 2010

mind over groin

the little boy , pulled up his shorts as he wiped his right hand on the clean white muslin hankerchief his mother had lovingly attached with a safety pin to the left breastpocket of his school uniform . He was 11 years old.




the girl he had been spying at could'nt have been older than 10 - yet she had breasts . little knobbly things they were , yet such was their mystic power that they could send shivers down his little weenie .




he was a good little brahmin boy - every tuesday evening you would find him lost in a crowd of vermillion streaked foreheads at the hanuman temple - praying for strength , promising brahmacharya (or celibacy) - he would follow his father , holding the very last end of his father's dangling thread of worship , slung across his naked torso.




he still had his hair parted sideways , and had not yet started listening to rock music , or blindly following into the steps oh his slightly older and far more rebellious brother whom his parents had given up on - as a lost cause ,for he had been rumoured to have visited dirty websites on the computer and had been known to cut class to watch "Striptease" in some shady cinema hall of the very hindu , the very religious city of Benaras . after particualrly violent arguments doctor sahib's wife would cry in his arms (in the respectable sexless way she was supposed to behave after having been blessed with two sons - that was all her claim on her man's penis , and anyway she was too wrapped up in the nutritional needs of the men of her family to ever crave sex. she was a brahmin , born and brought up to lead an example to other sex crazed women who were typically born in lower castes - her saris were tasteful only on family functions, her hair regularly oiled and her ornaments ostensibly austere.) that it had to be the influence of his early influence to channels like MTV.




but her little boy , oh , his JANIYO (a man's coming of age - religious coming of age ceremony) had to be performed as soon as panditji would give them the right date .




so why was this 11 year old boy , who might as well have been castrated to the people he lived with , masturbating ? how did he even know how to do that ? his friends had been carefully hand picked by his parents , his society manufactured with the very children who were younger siblings to disappointing elder children - he had been moulded into religion since before he could remember - he had been kept as innocent as possible , denying him television all together , taught by the strictest of conformist teacehrs -- how did he learn to reach into his pants and give it a little doink every now and then ? how did he become so unscrupulous to spy on little girls with little bee pecked breasts ? how did he become so sexual after all of everyone's efforts to protect him from desanitizing the holiest of aspirations his entire world had envisaged for him ?




and how were children this young , even with every sort of protection from unnecesary "western" influence growing sexually lethal ??




maybe , there were radiations in the air - power waves coursing through every child of every age - wanting to make them socially sick , perverted and hypocritical. maybe , we cannot find anyone to blame any more.




maybe , years of religious and moral hedgemony will now be avenged by making children grow up too soon - maybe , we will again need to establish child marriages , if we have to protect unsuspecting sexual objects from both privation and exploitation -- maybe , sex is going to have its revenge.




or maybe , we could just keep our hands glued to our groins -- maybe we could give up false notions of love and romance - maybe , every pair of breast now is only to excite that walking of the dog , by every kid on the block - maybe , even sexual attraction is namesake - for even sexual objects have lost the particular charecteristics they earlier required to arouse sexual interest .




what are we going to do now -- ??? and how are we going to save face ?




p.s.: written after a day of reading Judy Blume's - Are You There God ? Its Me, Margaret . and Then Maybe , I Won't . -- two little books on a little girl and a little boy dealing with their individual sexuality and various other issues. interesting reads .

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