It was a cold evening in Delhi. Very very cold. So cold that I was trembling in my short dress. I was with my friends in an open coffee shop of a five star hotel.
It was refreshing especially after having spent four weeks in the house of Bigg Boss. Did I just say four weeks??? Damn! I must visit a psychiatrist to check if there’s any sanity left in me. The evening was perfect except for the freezing whether.
I placed an order for some Italian wine to keep myself warm.
A tall white hunk dressed in a black suit walked up to me. For a moment, I thought he was going to buy me a drink. While I was still imagining, the cool dude, who was now right across the table introduced himself as the General Manager of the hotel, and asked me if all was well.
Before I could respond, he leaned forward and whispered, ‘Shawl’? I nodded with a mischievous smile. With two shawls wrapped up around me and a glass of vintage Italian wine,I was beginning to experience perfect bliss.
The handsome manager excused himself to attend to some regular patrons. My friends, who were non existent to me for a brief while, suddenly seemed lively and amusing entities.
The table looked beautiful with Italian wine, a cheese platter, some stir fried prawns, baby corn and mushrooms. I was giggling, laughing, drinking, eating – all at the same time. Amidst all this, there was something buzzing that caught my attention.
It was my cellphone! The number flashing on the screen of my phone was not known to me. And so, I did the usual, which is to ignore. The caller kept calling. I assumed it would stop sooner or later. But it did not. At this point in time, I was irritated and curious.
I decided to speak to the stranger who was desperately seeking my attention.
The desperate caller said, ‘Hello’.
I was patiently waiting for the caller to go on. She said, she was a journalist and, requested that I speak to her for a few minutes. I did not interrupt her.
She asked me how the experience of being a house inmate of Big Boss was.
I said, ‘Quite painful’.
She asked me to elaborate. I refused to do so as I did not want to revisit memories filled with hurt, pain, remorse and resentment.
I then took a piece of jumbo prawn from the platter which was staring at me for quite sometime. It felt as though it was saying to me, ‘Don’t just stare at me, try me. I’m worth it’. So, I put the jumbo prawn gently into my mouth.
While the prawn was still in my mouth,the journalist popped her next question, ‘Do you apply the human sperm on your face’?
I did not react. I thought I misunderstood her. I said with my mouth wide open, struggling to chew the prawn, ‘Whaaaaaat’?
She repeated her question. It was the same! How could it be the same!! Maybe, I was hearing strange things. Maybe this is what happens when one lives caged in a house away from civilization.
Just then, the prawn in my mouth slipped into my food pipe. I guess I must have swallowed it. My reaction was involuntary. It was truly beyond my control. Seeing me choke, my friends offered me water, wine, any liquid on the table that they could lay their hands on. I gulped my glass of wine, which was half full. I was feeling better now and was getting ready to continue my conversation with the journalist.
I said to her, ‘Ahhh….what do you mean exactly’?
She said that a new research analysis described the human sperm as the new age cure for acne, wrinkle and ageing problems. I was speechless.
I said, ‘Really’?
She said, ‘That’s right’.
I was clueless. Since when did human sperms become the new age cosmetic cream? Aren’t sperms meant for procreation? And, if the girl doesn’t wish to get pregnant and is not on birth control pills, the guy disposes the sperms in a condom, a trash bin, a toilet or any place else. At least, that's what I thought.
The journalist reminded me of the question again, as though, asking it once was not good enough. I panicked. I didn’t know what to say.
The only two options that were clearly visible to me were – ‘Yes, the research analysis is absolutely right. I have known this for quite sometime. I had severe acne during my teenage years. And I used my ex-boyfriend’s sperms. It worked! Trust me on that’ or, ‘ARE YOU CRAZY?????????’.
I could feel my heart beat faster. I was never, in my whole 25 years on Planet Earth ever asked a question as frightening as this. My hands reached into my handbag to look for some anti-anxiety pills which I seldom carry. There were none. I had to overcome this fear. Fear of what people think.
I said to her in a calm tone, ‘Are you kidding dear’?
Her answer was no. She asked me to be honest.
Honest?????? Didn’t she know honesty was not a virtue any more. Definitely not with something concerning human sperms!
I wanted to hang up on her right away. I had not planned on spending my evening thinking about sperms. That was certainly not why I visited my friends in Delhi.
I realized that I had to give an answer. Dumb, stupid, bold, intriguing, idiotic… … any kind that seemed like an answer. I started composing my thoughts to give an articulate response.
Behold, the words came out, ‘If human sperms are indeed better than any anti-wrinkle and anti-ageing creams or even better than botox, I shall use them; maybe not now, but surely after I cross 40. I hope I have a man in my life then with a healthy sperm count. It’s a great money saving scheme. Thank you’.
The journalist seemed quite pleased with the quote. She wished me good night without bothering me anymore. I was relieved.
I felt like a soldier returning victorious from the battle field. What a victory!! My friends waved at me from the buffet counter not knowing what the human sperms did to me during those fifteen minutes.
