So this is what happened yesterday night. 11:30 in the night. I was watching the film Sahara, 1983. I was into the last few minutes of the film. I was in awe of the chemistry between Brooke Shields and Lambert Wilson. I found them interesting and exciting. After finishing the film I wanted to have that excitement, wanted to feel that ‘Feeling’. I wanted to enjoy so I decided to watch some erotic films on Netflix. Porn clips, most times don’t excite me as often as they used to. I am unable to get that raw feel. So I watched these three films, After we collided, Fifty shades of Grey and 365 Days. I had watched all three of them, this time just into the sex scenes.
I always have loved 50 shades and both the parts of 365 days. So quickly they can evoke this horny feeling within me. Won’t describe the whole process because it would become so long but I enjoyed it. A lot. You can imagine the madness of this by how loud my moans were. I and my younger brother, 14 shared the same room and he was asleep. I was masturbating and I got so much into this, that I dived into the whole process with an immense passion. I was at the peak of my session and this made me shout loudly for 2–3 min. I could literally feel the echo, the sound. I knew that I was not living all alone but at that time I was simply unconscious, to be able to think and behave maturely. I was out of mind. I don’t remember anything. All I knew is I was breathless, moaning loudly, muttering cuss words and my partner’s name from time to time. He was in my mind. That’s it.
I was in my resolution stage. I just laid down, thinking about the groanings. I was in this peaceful state of mind and this was when I was interrupted by my brother. He asked me what I was doing, why I was shouting and behaving madly. I was like Oh Jesus Fuck! I simply didn’t know how to answer him, what to say to him, or shall I say to him that I was masturbating. Pata nahi, kuchh soojh nahi raha tha. I was going through a plethora of emotions. I was listening to this Engelbert song How I Love You which had this Sahara vaala waterfall in the middle of the desert scene to it. It was an edited video, beautifully edited. While listening to the song I went to the bathroom, washed, washed down there, passionately kissed the wall, went to my bed, dried myself and slept peacefully. It was 3 in the morning.
Today morning, while folding my bedsheets, at 6:30ish, my brother came to me and asked me what I had been doing last night. I, innocently asked, what the hell I did. He said to me that I was behaving so oddly, that I was shouting and terrifying him. Was that any kind of a bad dream? By looking at his face I could easily make out that he was not asking out of frankness. Probably he saw what I was doing last night, maybe my moaning had waked him all of a sudden. I told him that I was not dreaming. I had been masturbating and that masturbation is not bad either. He told me that Mumma was asking about you. I asked what she was asking about me. He told me that she had asked him whether it was he who was shouting. He told her that it was I who was shouting. I kept screaming and then for 2 mins I looked into my phone and then I slept. This is what he told me, while he was smiling. I still don’t know the exact story. Now you can make an idea with this. Ours and parents’ rooms are separated a bit far. Both of our doors were shut properly. I always had been moaning while masturbating but this time it was way too loud. I mean they could hear them too. Wow! After a while my Mumma came into my room, looking at me with a tirchhi nazar. Even she did not come to wake me up in the morning, which usually she does. However, I found this behaviour to be uncanny. Later Papa asked me whether I was speaking something in my dreams (did not mention shouting, which I know he is pretty aware of) and at what time I had slept. I just avoided the last question. I wanted to say him that I had slept late and that I was shouting and not dreaming because I was enjoying masturbation. But I know I cannot. I simply cannot. Later in the day, I got indulged in a small quarrel with Mumma. She said that I have been a lot into this phone and crap. I told her that I have nothing to watch/use on my phone (no games, no social media) To this she replied Who’s knowing what I keep watching the night, and then she left, indirectly taunting me. I was like shit man.
The idea of writing this whole post is about how women are judged when they are trying to sensualize themselves, trying to do things that make themselves and their bodies feel pleasurable. The concept of gender and how things are centralized around them, how there are works defined and distributed to men and women, what is good and bad for either of them and what should one do and one shouldn’t. Masturbation or watching porn videos are not something bad and one shouldn’t judge someone just because they are doing/watching things like that and build a particular negative, the ill-behaved image of theirs. Masturbation has numerous benefits besides just giving pleasure to your body. It helps you relieve your stress, prevent anxiety, makes you feel relaxed and boosts your mood and self-esteem. Above all, it helps you know your body, its needs and wants and even you come up with a better sexual life with your partner. At least after masturbating, you are having a deep and sound sleep.
While writing up this I got reminded of these two film scenes. One, Kiara Advani from Lust Stories using a vibrator and how her in-laws caught her and second, Swara Bhaskar from Veere di Wedding while she was enjoying masturbation and his husband/boyfriend saw her. My parents did not catch me red-handed (also I have not done anything wrong, for them to hold me liable) but what bothered me is, how impossible this sounded to me, telling my parents that yes, I had masturbated yesterday and I enjoyed it. I wish telling them this was pretty simple. Telling them about my periods, my cramps, my mood swings, my anxiety, how hopeless I feel, the suicidal thoughts, about my partner and our bonding, about the men/women I sometimes feel I get attracted to. In a plain-spoken and straightforward manner. I am not ashamed of what I did, I did nothing bad and wrong. It’s normal, it’s just that they consider it abnormal. They must be thinking that their daughter has become spoilt and whatnot. Telling/asking them anything, taking permission from them has always been so tough work for me. Always. Normal, simple things become complicated in front of them. No doubt, they are good, loving parents but they think satisfying a kid with materialistic desires or taking them somewhere outdoor is what is called love. They have never been able to get this basic definition of love, that love is all about understanding, talking on almost all possible matters, discussing, making them feel that they are even prioritized, Their words have a voice and they are always listened to, they are pampered time-to-time. Making them feel that they will never be judged on anything, that they are so safe with them, that they love you immensely, the idea that you can be anyone and anything in front of them and sometimes they do feel like apologising for their actions/words (sorry never mean that you are surrendering in front of one and now you have become small. No) This is what love is, my idea of love. In simple words, love is all about making someone feel normal, at their core.
When I will be getting older, older enough to have kids, I won’t be like this. I will try not to be like this- A Typical Indian Parent.
