I had been a naive child. I had found out the details about sex much later than the rest of classmates had. This was partly due to the fact that I was a prudish no-nonsense sort of a child.
But things change, thankfully!
Anyhow, this is not a post about innocence lost, nor is this post about my escapades. (It amazing what feats one can perform with the correct choice of words!)
I was thinking of the general perception I have noticed amongst my friends and aquaintances pertaining to love, and sex. Its also a cross-cultural thing I guess. One important factor in this was that I'd recently read 'It Does Not Die' by Maitreyi Devi in its original bengali version 'Na Hanyate'. It is by far one of the best books I have read in any genre, in any language. Perhaps I will have the audacity to review it here someday, but for now let's suffice it to say this book touched me in a way nothing had touched me in a long time.
This book told me what we have known since a while,which, very flatly put, will boil down to that the western perception of love is markedly different from the indian outlook towards it. The western concept of love ( as it appears to me) has a certain rigid structure to it, there's always the initial romance, persuasion and a final culmination in the physical expression of it. There's no doubt that I am indeed making a rash generalization of it, but if you should notice, all love stories in the western tradition need even a symbolic gesture of the physical for it to be complete.
Surprisingly, the indian perception seems to me to be more flexible; even liberal if you will. There are no guidelines as to how things should proceed and how they must culminate. The spiritual almost essentially overshadows the carnal here and any physical expression seems only to mar the concept of love.
All said and done, its still funny how the focus seems to be upon definitions and notions of how things should be and not on how things are. How can the definition of love be generic when the concept of it remains based on the intimacy of feelings of one, two or more persons?
I mention more options than two simply because I refuse to believe that intimacy must exist only between more than one and less than three. Who can claim for certain that the story of Narcissus was a wretched tragedy and not the ultimate romance? Who is to say all menage-a-trois lack love or intimacy? Why must every Columbine need a Harlequin so she may dance? Why must the saga of Chitrangada need Arjun to be immortal?
If you had to choose between the sparks of a moments intimacy and lifelong insipid romance, what choice shall you make?
