Friday, June 19, 2015

Turn the lights off

I have always imagined that I have had a very diverse range of boys men in bed with me. No, I am not going to list down their races or ethnicity or their dick sizes (wait..I think I have already done that before). But recently, it just hit me. There is something which just runs common to all of them. Before you start speculating some recurring sexual position that I would be propounding on, let me stop you right there. What I am talking about is how every time, yes, EVERY SINGLE TIME, the person I was with had always insisted on turning the lights off. Or blinding the curtains. Or Shutting the window. Or put on an Invisibility Cloak. You have it.  

There is a song by Lady Gaga called Dance in the Dark in which she says, "Baby, loves to dance in the dark. Cause when he's looking she falls apart". It spoke of the insecurity that this woman has with her body. So conscious she is of her body, so uncomfortable she is with her body, that she would physically and emotionally fall apart when she would be met with the man's gaze. So the only way to fully exercise her control over her sexuality is in the dark. 

Exactly how I would feel more comfortable blowing a guy with me bending down. It is something I would never do in full light because I would be constantly worried about how the guy I am with would not like what he is seeing. Or me always choosing to be on top while getting fucked or choose to be missionary while fucking. It has always got to do with how this or that part of my body shouldn't be highlighted while I am having sex. It's funny how this post started with the tone of 'that mother fucking put the lights out' to something which happens completely on my personal terms too. 

I wouldn't be the first person in this world to admit that I have had body image issues. I was a healthy kid until my mother claims, 'jab maine tujhe khilana chhod diya' (the moment I stopped making you eat food). I have grown up in my immediate and extended family constantly hearing one god-fucking-damning ground breaking and extremely compelling question! Why am I so skinny! The shame that I am NEEDED to feel with my body was being thrown at me in various too many sentences and forms. Be it my mother telling me that she wouldn't take me to a marriage ceremony with her because 'what would people say when they see such a skinny lad!' Or my house helper looking at me and asking me very genuinely, 'don't I feel sharam (shame) when I look at myself in the mirror?' Well long story short, whenever I am in bed with a person, and the lights would go off, I did feel a sense of ease. My body would instantly react to another person's body when we would be engulfed by darkness. I would feel my muscles relaxing, enjoying foreplay more, imagining my body to look the certain way to the other person, And ALL because the dark would give me an unexplained agency over the situation. 

Lot of that darkness has also got to do with bringing that public secrecy to into the bed. How it is easier to deal with this sexual act in the fold of invisibility. It does make things easier, doesn't it? When you don't have to be constantly worrying about your body looking mis-shapen. I am also aware how extremely offensive such reactions are to a disabled individual. But this is something I have been fighting since a long long time. I am trying to become (more) comfortable with my body and not aspiring towards a particular form of body type. This silly assumption how everything in life would just becomes better if I reach that particular body goal. Ugh. What is wrong with me. 



Sunday, June 14, 2015

Running Away from the Past

Recently I was talking to a very dear high school friend of mine and we were being nostalgic about our good old times. Her ex-boyfriend is someone I used to have (still do, I guess) a crush on. I remembered those (few) days when I would hang out with him during recess breaks. I remember having a somewhat pleasant time.  To which my friend interjected by saying, "but I remember him making fun of you in front of the entire class!"

How clearly I remember that moment. How clearly I remember holding back tears.

I think there are times in all of our lives when we try to make sense of whatever experiences we have been through. Many such experiences which I keep burying in my mind are related to my painful moments of bullying through out much of my high school life. There are moments when I start thinking about just one incident and all of it comes rushing hammering into my brain. I don't think I still have processed all of these memories. It was at the moment when my friend spoke out loud about it, I realized how conveniently I have chosen to forget about those parts of my life and painted a glossy picture in which I was a super brave and courageous person who faced the world alone. The truth is that I was afraid every second. I was afraid of my every move in every place. How I would take a different route to the exit gate of the school so I don't run into those boys...every boy....
How I would pretend to laugh and pretend to be paying full attention to the person talking and standing next to me, not being able to shut out the jibes and jokes they would shout at me across the basketball courts. I remember them clearly. What the weather was. What I was wearing. Who was with me. Their faces. Their jeering, cruel, mocking faces. I wish I could just point out just that one incident that ruined my life but there have been so many. Across schools. Across cities. [I have had my education spanning over 4 schools across Jalandhar (Punjab), Lucknow (Uttar Pradesh) and Bangalore (Karnataka)]

There have been times when I had wanted to confront them. Maybe find them on facebook, write them a message. But would that help? Displaying my vulnerability? A friend of mine told me once, how his ex-batch mate messaged him out of the blue and apologized for being a bully. He said that unexpected message was one of the best surprises he had got in his life. Maybe that's what I am actively looking out for. To try to talk to those people and understand that why they did this to me. I want to let them know how much they hurt me. I want to tell them how scarring their actions were.

Since few years, I would keep jokingly telling my friend that I want to meet this ex-boyfriend of hers (him having expressed some vague interest in meeting me with her too). And somewhere in my sub-conscious I just want to hear those three words! I. Am. Sorry. And then suddenly I think that am I not strong enough? Do I actively look out for apologies from people just to validate my experiences? Is this the only way I am EVER going to get closure? 

All of this just led to one reaction. Me shutting everything out. It just became so much easier to pretend that I am strong. That I could handle the world. In fact, even now, it is so easy for me to let go. Because I always fear that intensity of commitment in anyone, because I always impulsively protect myself by shutting everyone out; be it any form of intimate relationship. 

I don't know where this post is headed. I know I will never have the willpower to actually give enough fucks in my life to seek out these people and message them. Because I don't want to look into the past. I have become stronger.......

have I?