These days, magazines are loaded with a lot of crap under the guise of research. While I was waiting in the hotel lounge for my client, I breezed thru’ one of the magazines – the name I don’t recall now. In a shameless ploy to sell its issue the cover page highlighted ‘Through Sex You Can Know Your Partner.’ Inside the article said that if a man grunts during sex, he’s an introvert, if he’s quiet or breathing hard, he’s got worries, and if he’s talkative, he’s stupid and probably shallow. I was trying to see where I fit in. Interestingly I realized that I do most of those things mentioned at the same time during the act. I grunt or groan or breathe hard because I am +50 and I am vocal because that’s the only way I can keep the partner engaged!
I am reminded of a joke that I saw in TOI recently in Kushwant Singh’s column.
A man boards a Jet Airways airplane Delhi to Mumbai and takes his seat. As he settles in, he looks around and sees a very beautiful woman taking the seat right beside his. Eager to strike up a conversation, he asks "Business trip or vacation?"
She turns, smiles, and says, "Business. I'm going to the annual Sexologists Convention."
He swallows hard. Here is the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, sitting next to him, and she's a sexologist!
Struggling to contain his excitement and maintain his composure, he calmly asks, "What's your business role at this convention?"
"Lecturer," she says, "I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."
"Really?" he says, swallowing hard. "What m-m-m-myths are those?"
Well," she explains, "one popular myth is that Negro men are the best endowed when, in fact, it's the Tamilian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the Bengali. However, we have found that the best potential lover in all categories is the Sardarji."
Suddenly, the woman becomes a little uncomfortable and blushes. "I'm sorry," she says, "I shouldn't be discussing this with you. I don't even know your name!"
"Venkatraman!" the man blurts. "Venkatraman Mukherjee ! .. But my friends call me Santa Singh !"
So that’s what probably I am… an amalgamation!
Now coming back to the magazine crap…
One of the funniest and most ridiculous thing it was selling is the idea that one can do anything if they’re outfitted with the designer clothing, shoes, and accessories - like the newest shoes will allow men to run 20 miles even if he is obese, or that the ultralight, super-underwired designer sports bra will turn the ugliest girl into a star just by efficiently cupping her assets. You must have seen a recent TV commercial for bra showing a woman wondering why the man is staring at her breasts when travelling on the escalator, while in reality he is charmed by another woman coming behind her wearing the apt bra for the T Shirt she is wearing. So a bra for the T-shirt, another exclusive one for the kurti, and another one for shirt... so on and so forth!
I am reminded of a joke that I saw in TOI recently in Kushwant Singh’s column.
A man boards a Jet Airways airplane Delhi to Mumbai and takes his seat. As he settles in, he looks around and sees a very beautiful woman taking the seat right beside his. Eager to strike up a conversation, he asks "Business trip or vacation?"
She turns, smiles, and says, "Business. I'm going to the annual Sexologists Convention."
He swallows hard. Here is the most gorgeous woman he has ever seen, sitting next to him, and she's a sexologist!
Struggling to contain his excitement and maintain his composure, he calmly asks, "What's your business role at this convention?"
"Lecturer," she says, "I use my experience to debunk some of the popular myths about sexuality."
"Really?" he says, swallowing hard. "What m-m-m-myths are those?"
Well," she explains, "one popular myth is that Negro men are the best endowed when, in fact, it's the Tamilian who is most likely to possess that trait. Another popular myth is that French men are the best lovers, when actually it is the Bengali. However, we have found that the best potential lover in all categories is the Sardarji."
Suddenly, the woman becomes a little uncomfortable and blushes. "I'm sorry," she says, "I shouldn't be discussing this with you. I don't even know your name!"
"Venkatraman!" the man blurts. "Venkatraman Mukherjee ! .. But my friends call me Santa Singh !"
So that’s what probably I am… an amalgamation!
Now coming back to the magazine crap…
One of the funniest and most ridiculous thing it was selling is the idea that one can do anything if they’re outfitted with the designer clothing, shoes, and accessories - like the newest shoes will allow men to run 20 miles even if he is obese, or that the ultralight, super-underwired designer sports bra will turn the ugliest girl into a star just by efficiently cupping her assets. You must have seen a recent TV commercial for bra showing a woman wondering why the man is staring at her breasts when travelling on the escalator, while in reality he is charmed by another woman coming behind her wearing the apt bra for the T Shirt she is wearing. So a bra for the T-shirt, another exclusive one for the kurti, and another one for shirt... so on and so forth!
The magazine also insisted thru’ another article that drinking green tea once a day or 15 minutes of yoga will make you look 10 years young, take 10 kgs. off your physique, and lead to a healthy sex life… yup.. everything is connected to sex someway! So you have a panacea in a cup of tea and some happy thoughts. The most ridiculous thing about this isn’t that they were ascribing impossibly positive outcomes to such miniscule effort, but that they inspire millions of people, like my wife, to act like they’re some sort of zen master because they stood on one leg for a minute and a half.
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