Generation next: TALK ABOUT SEX
- Often, what we condemn in public, we admire in silence
About a week ago, just as the world was marking the international week against HIV-AIDS, a colleague was busy organising an interaction. Saurav, who runs a citizen journalism site called The Story Cycle, was sending out invitations for the programme. They had titled it “Talk to me: Let’s talk about sex”. I thought the topic itself was very, very striking and was pretty sure it was going to draw a large audience.
I arrived at Adarsha Kanya School in Patan Durbar square, where the interaction was to take place a little ahead of time. The organisers were just setting up the place and the onlookers were mainly primary school children. As the red plastic chairs stacked upon one another were pulled down and arranged in rows, the enthusiastic children rushed to book themselves a seat. Karuna Khadka, 7, in her sky blue shirt, navy blue cardigan and matching skirt told me she was expecting a film, filim dekhaucha rey. She had in tow her five-year-old sibling, who had a two word conversation with me, ek kaksha. I was aware the organisers were to screen three films: on sexual orientation, use of condoms and repression of sexual desire. So I stared at the audience
and wondered why they were imparting sex education to primary school children. To my relief, the teachers soon chased the children out. Now, why was I so nervous about these children’s presence, when they’ve probably watched intimate scenes on the telly, unmonitored, with our homes being equipped with hundreds of channels in the cable now?
Our first transgender political leader, Bhumika Shrestha of the Blue Diamond Society, was among the first to arrive. She was one of the speakers. But only when the winter evening had rushed into darkness and the Patan Durbar Square started getting busier with people returning home did more people show up. In twos threes and fours, young people walked into the interaction, most coming straight from work, others, after school.
Sexologist Dr Rajendra Bhadra, who was making a presentation on Art, Culture, Sculpture and Sex, started the discussion by raising the million-rupee question, “Why should we talk about sex?” There were various responses—biological need, reproduction, desire etc. As the interaction unfolded, the group discussed how the Nepali society was bound by religious values that prevented us from discussing sex in the open, even though religious practices were rife with sexual connotations. The participants concurred on how everything around us is steeped in sexual innuendos, from the words we use to swear when mad, to how we choose to dress to the more sublime things like art.
Sitting in the audience, my mind wandered to the vanity adverts on TV, where women and men are always portrayed as highly sexualised. I admit I quite enjoy some of them, especially the one endorsing a body spray, in which a married woman commits mental adultery. Every time the advert comes up when I’m on the air, always, there’s an awkward silence in the TV studio where I work. Most of us watch with baited breath the very-close-up of hands clasped, followed by the woman raising herself after the union and throwing the pallu over her shoulders, her big curls in disarray. Even in that abashed silence, I’m sure many of us prefer that advert to other random ones about noodles or a cement brand. Often, what we condemn in public, we admire in silence.
However, we’re not embarrassed to pour cow milk over the Shiva linga, smear it with abir and decorate it with flowers, even when we know the structure represents the penis and vagina in the state of union. The moment we allude to sex and gods, it gains an elevation and transcends all embarrassments. Only the mortals discuss it with a blush. We go to art exhibitions, admire pictures nuanced with sexual references. Stand before them for minutes, till they give us goose pimples but choose to leave a more ‘decent’ comment on the visitors’ book saying more general things.
So, discussion continued between the participants and Dr. Bhadra. It raised bold questions, giggles and smiles. There was this girl who stood out for her frankness and comfort on the topic, to the point of my envy. Then there was a young priest deft with the Hindu scriptures and who had all the explanations on how religion was used to curb ‘wanton’ behaviour and control women’s mobility. Then there was a group of social-work students, who chose to define sex as “We want more”, darting dozens of quizzical comments at Dr. Bhadra and wanting to know what the youth should do with sex, besides just understanding what it was. Would the elders understand it like they did?
I only responded to what was unfolding before me with silence and scribbles on my notepad. I belong to a generation that was taught girls could only have sex with the man they married and sex was something ‘sordid’ you could only discuss with girlfriends. And using the word ‘sexy’ felt so awkward, you would say ‘zezy’ instead. And you avoided singing all the songs that mentioned sex or had I-love-yous in it. Yes, there were sketches of the reproductive system to draw and lessons to learn in school. But you never looked up from your notebook when that went on in class and your teacher never looked up from the book. If you walked out alone in the evening,
you automatically switched to an innate fear of being raped. That fear, before everything else, never let you go as far as thinking sex could even be pleasurable.
Sitting at that interaction, I found myself wishing to belong to a different generation that has the chance to discuss and understand their body and its needs. A generation that understands there is no shame in responding to one’s physical needs, as long as they practice safe and consensual sex. But most of all, I wish to be part of a generation that has elders who do not frown at the mention of sex or raise their eyebrows when they find condoms in your drawer. If sex education is imperative for the growing, it is just as important for the ageing to understand their children are safer if they are taught about contraceptives, rather than cordoned under a sun-set curfew. For, much that we may avoid talking about sex casually, we all know it is what crosses our mind at the most unexpected moments and more than loads of other thoughts do in a day and night.
Posted on: 2011-12-18 09:37
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All of them discussed the issue. The result was the same...and we have committed to continue discussions on the issue till midnight.
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