Indian Samurai इंडियन सामुराई

After a smooth start (with the ban of the movie Fifty Shades of Grey) in March, the Indian Government geared up, banning porn altogether. At least online porn. The intention was good – fighting against child pornography – but the execution was, well, not up to the mark, to say the least. Without consulting anybody, overnight, they black-listed 857 sites, some have no sexual content at all; and on top of it 857 is nothing compared to the thousands of X-sites live. As on today, the ban is more or less lifted: the order has been given but it is not clear...

When you read (source) that more than 50% of the children in India are victims of sexual abuse – a small 223 million kids mind you – (and half of them molested by some family member), you get to think that the Government is only attacking the emerged part of the iceberg by targeting child porn and not enforcing sex education programs in schools...

But everything is not completely black! There are people like me who speak but do nothing, others who do not speak and do nothing and the other ones... For instance let’s take Kranti, an NGO that works with the children of Kamathipura, Mumbai 'red light district', and helps Kamathipura daughters to discover see other horizons: Sheetal, Pinky and Shweta all went to the United States, one to study drums, the other for an Art summer camp and the last one to train on psychology. (source) Some of them come back and become activist in sex education...

And then there is the Sexpert, writing in Mumbai Mirror newspaper. Don’t laugh! He also brings his stone to the wall of knowledge! Dr Watsa, a 91 fellow, has been a columnist for more than 50 years, and very recently published a book, It's Normal... Having started by giving medical advice in women's magazines, he began to receive letters from women of remote areas, abused by uncles and worried they would not be able to marry without an intact hymen.

In addition to his column who makes you laugh while educating, and which brought upon his author and publisher censorship, threats etc, he worked for the Family Planning Association of India (FPAI) and the Council of Sex Education and Parenthood International (CSEPI). For the porn is a problem, but not for the same reasons as the Government (which think it ‘gives ideas’). Because men would devote more time watching it than doing their wives whose frustration would eventually lead to divorce. (Source; PDF)

Some Sexpert pearls for the road:

•  Q: Two days ago, I had unprotected sex with my girlfriend. To prevent pregnancy, we bought an i-Pill [emergency contraceptive] But in the heat of the moment I popped it instead of her. Can it cause any complications for me?
• A: Next time round please use a condom and make sure you don't swallow that too.

• Q (a very common one): Will my penis shrink from repeated masturbation.
• A: You talk a lot, does your tongue shrink?

• Q (about female masturbation, recently emerging questions showing women emancipation): My friend thinks that her breasts are getting larger because of masturbation. Is this possible?
• A: No. Does she think her clitoris is an air pump?

• Q: I have a small penis and I can't seem to satisfy my girlfriend. My astrologer has advised me to pull it every day for 15 minutes while reciting a shloka [prayer]. I have been doing this for a month but it hasn't helped. What should I do?
• A: If he was right, most men would have a penis hitting their knees. God doesn't help gullible, foolish men. Go visit a sexpert instead who can teach you the art of making love.

And a small satirical video on sex education in schools in India to conclude!

 

 

Be ready!

 

Mumbai-Delhi. Two cities ten times the size of Slovenia each. Two thousand kilometers. Two hours by plane. Sixty flights per day. Nothing insurmountable! Except that it requires a bit of anticipation. If the delays are not what they used to be a few years ago, they are still frequent between these two mega-cities: when it’s not the fog in Delhi it’s the rain in Mumbai...

 

For an appointment at 4:15 PM, I had therefore planned carefully. I would arrive at 1:10 + something unexpected (a one hour flight delay) + 40 minutes by taxi + something unexpected (almost anything that could happen on the road and block us 30 minutes) and I still had a 45 minutes safety gap...

 

Except that... While it had not rained for more than three weeks, nature unleashed in the night before my departure! Naively, I thought I could still take a rickshaw but upon the advice of my favorite Indian I booked a Uber (a first!), and left early. I could only get a SUV and thank God for that: the water level was so high that only our car could pass in some passages, where rickshaws drivers, stuck in the middle of the street with water up to the waist, were forced to push their vehicle on the side. And we, while water was coming under the door, we drove through, pushing water as a backhoe snow! Which enabled me to 1. Arrive at the airport and 2. Arrive at the airport in time, and even a little bit early. Early enough to take the time to call back the driver after realizing I had forgotten my umbrella in his car – since it is not permitted to exit the airport after check-in in India, it is the guard who had to go get it for me, the driver having some difficulties locating me behind the glass door! And early enough to buy a phone charger since mine had gone missing. So here I was, finally ready for the flight!

 

One hour delay at the time of boarding... How grateful I am for my foresight!

 

Two hours delay at the time of take-off... Why on earth didn’t I book an earlier flight?? Okay, don't panic. There is still a small chance that the traffic on the Delhi-Gurgaon road is not huge in early afternoon and that there is no major incident...

 

Finally I land in Delhi. I jump in a radio-taxi. We rush to Gurgaon and reach in 25 minutes! I am fifteen minutes early which means I can pee, pump some milk, freshen up, put my jacket on. Before all that I inform the desk that I am around, just so they know... An employee comes to meet me immediately and make me follow him. Before I know it, I find myself in the meeting room (hungry, with a full bladder, dishevelled, fearing breast engorgement, my shirt protruding from everywhere, in short completely lost in translation!).

 

My instructions were strict for this meeting: whatever happens, be on time – German-Swiss take time very seriously. Taking this into account, I had calculated that I should be ready to leave by 5.30 PM (it was planned to last 75 minutes max) and could book a return flight at 7:45. How surprised was I to realise it was 5:55 when I left the room! But no need to get excited, with the delay I experienced in the morning, there is no chance that my flight is on time!

 

Despite the craziness of the traffic jam (these I-don’t-know-how-many-lanes of cars are very impressive on this road), I arrive at 6.45 at the airport, sharp one hour in advance... Except that I am on the phone with a colleague and he won’t stop talking. Which is makes it very uneasy to show my e-ticket to the guard... Ten minutes later, I finally hang up and I am immediately told that I am at the wrong terminal! I had completely zapped that Jet Airways flights are not operated with other domestic flights... There seems to be no end to this day!

 

Another walking-in passenger then offers me to use his car, which leaves me somewhat puzzled. He assures me it’s not a problem, it’s his office car and anyway I won’t find a taxi at the departures... By the time I decide whether to take up the offer, the guard urges me “there, a taxi! Go go!” I spot a white car which is about to leave and stops it. I ask if this is a taxi, and if he can take me to Terminal 3. No problem!! As I can’t see a meter, I assume I will have to pay a bomb but it does not matter, I just want to go home! I still ask the driver what kind of taxi this is and the answer is weird: taxis booked online by companies, especially for foreigners. Well... Twenty minutes later I'm at the right departure gate, and not even late, my flight was announced to depart with delay at 8:30 PM. When I ask the driver how much I owe him, he answers – wait for it – “nothing, it was my pleasure to help you”. Bah ?? Wait wait wait. Am I really in Delhi? The city with a terrible reputation? And two men offer to help me in the same day? I love my life!

 

I landed in Mumbai with one hour delay. Found a taxi and got home in an acceptable time considering the weather conditions. It is 11 PM and I'm dead...