The Unsacred Texts

I touched a cucumber and I liked it. I then drove to the supermarket and picked up a bunch of bananas as well. Perfectly harmless you’d think, but not what some religious fanatics would have you believe.

This isn’t going to be a rant on feminism or women’s lib. I’m bored of those as much as the men who are subjected to them are. But unless you’ve been living under a rock in a jungle (in which case, welcome back to civilization), you would’ve heard about the two ridiculous news pieces that caught everyone’s attention last month.

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In as few a words as they deserve, some Maulvi types claimed that women driving initiates pre-marital sex and touching phallic shaped groceries like cucumber and bananas promote impure thoughts – so both should be avoided. Yes, in 2012 (the year that we at FHM are hoping is the last, else we might run out of reasons to have guilt free one-night stands), we’re still debating matters of such grave significance. Besides pointing out the obviously shaky premise of these pearls, I’d just like to say that the last time I checked, the only recklessness worth noting that went on in a car was in the backseat where women preferably should always be in the driver’s position. And well, yes a banana can illicit some PG-18 action, but only in times of dire need. More on that later.

It did fan my ire, but such observations made me feel sorry for those poor sods. Either the women in their lives got wiser and left their sagging balls, or they really think it’s still their duty to protect innocent womenfolk. The ship has already sailed on the latter though. The jig is up and even those action-deprived nerdy researchers now agree that women think about sex almost as much, if not more, as men. So the once every seven seconds nonsense is replaced with men harbouring sexual thoughts 19 times a day and women clocking in at 10.

Finally! We can stop pretending. Yes, women think from their G-spots as much as men from their dicks, except our carnal thoughts are often mixed with flashes of triviality and vanity. But take it from a girl who once did an undercover expose on the fancy vibrators available over the counter at two of Delhi’s prime markets, there’s a lot going on if you probe beneath the surface.

Obviously you need to know where to look though. And there’s a large underground industry devoted to the cause – putting women in-charge of their own orgasms. That someone somewhere is thinking of all these ways to ensure a lady never has to fake it again should be considered a social service. Instead, we talk about it in hushed tones, at bachelorette parties or hen nights. But left to basic instincts, our two kinds really aren’t that different after all. Sure we don’t go around cottaging or being bunnies on heat, but hear me out when I tell you there are only two kinds of women – The ones that let their sexual desires dictate the way and the rest that cloud them with nonsense like money, car, job, stability. It’s the first kind you want. They’ll never use sex as a weapon. Instead, they’ll probably whip out their trusted companions and teach you a thing or two. The kind of lessons that no R-rated movie can impart because as I’ve figured out from my various escapades, there’s nothing hotter than a woman who knows how to pleasure herself.

And therein lies the silver lining. That in the past few years, I’ve met more chicas who own a battery-operated device than those that collect designer shoes… Though I’m not sure how many would admit to it. It’s admirable how men openly talk about porn, strip clubs and boys-only trips to Thailand. Which reminds me of a long running joke that a male colleague always cracks about the “happy ending” massage he was once offered in Nagpur (Ya, the orange county of India). So well, do me a favour and gift your lady an extra hand for the times when you aren’t around. Maybe that would get her to own up to how much she loves that final summit, just like you do.

And while on the subject of handy tools, for future reference – a ripe banana covered with a condom also does the trick. I’ll leave you with that visual for now. Take that, you damn grocery haters!

From the January 2012 issue of FHM India.