I have had considerable sexual experience until now, with 7-8 men? I always humored in front of my friends that to start a sexuality start-up, one should have a rich sexual experience. But I was wrong here. I had a superficial understanding of sexuality, the physical aspect of it and maybe with my prolonged research, I have learned about techniques of foreplay and seduction, which again is a physical manifestation of our sexual urges. I tried to delve into the psychology of our sexual desires and then read about sexual suppression. But my research went into a standstill and I was circling in the same orbit of limited understanding.

I firmly believed in enriching sexual experiences to unravel the enigma behind sex, the more sex you have with different people, the more learned you are. This was my core hypothesis which I chanted all the time. I flirted with men and occasionally became intimate with some of them. This I did to get intellectual fodder for my stories and also to fulfill the sexual inquisitiveness I had as a start-up founder to untangle the nuances of the sexual relationship between a man and a woman. Though I accept that it is a core human need to attain holistic sexual experience sans monogamy that limits the human potential to interact and connect on a bodily level; these sexual interactions I had with men were also trials in my intellectual lab.

But I’m not that fortunate to escape unharmed in doing these sexual experiments. I fell prey to my own experiments because I got emotionally attached to the men I became intimate with or had sex with it. It became a source of nagging pain for me. I was restless, anxious, and dependent. I doubt if I was the one experimenting or being experimented?

Until I met him. He is a journalist interviewing me for a newspaper. It is an offer hard to resist and lofted him from the clutter of sexually hungry men who flock my door. I agreed to meet him for the lure of the interview because I thought it can help me reach out to more people. Though I was not too keen to meet him and because of some spoiler experiences in the past with other journalists, I thought he too is one among the herd of sexual predators.

But I was impressed with this man when I met him. Not because of his degree but his pedigree. He is raised by a feminist, well-educated mother and understood female equality and patriarchy (though he did not let me speak much). In him, I sensed the long died regret inside me that I never had a man who valued my choice and my individuality. I longed for his persona and wished I can have a man like him who is raised by a feminist mother. I could clearly discern the difference between a man raised by a patriarchal, servile mother and the one raised by a feminist mother. The later understands and values feminine potential and the creator inside a female. Finding someone like him will take a long, indefinite search, so why not him? I thought. Thus I became obsessed with him, and because sexuality is the lens through which I look at this world, I became sexually obsessed with this man.

As a genuine, sexually liberal, beautiful woman I also had left some impact on that man and thus he became close to me. Oh! My ego is gratified and my bootless existence on this earth justified when the lender inquires the whereabouts of his forlorn seeker. I was enthralled getting his attention and lusted for him more. I fantasized the delicate and precise details of our lovemaking in his house. How he will meet me for lunch and will ask me out to his home and knowing the building sexual urge, I will follow him. In his home, we will have a long embrace, his lips rubbing at my neck and him smelling my washed long, black hair. Holding my hand he will then usher me to his single bed, where he undresses me gently and calms my shivering, hesitant body with his manly hands. In my shyness, I will recede in his wide chest, rubbing my face left and right on his hairy chest (I guess he has one). My reticence makes me submerge in his being for I feel unease at this boiling proximity, our bodies melting into each other like burning candles kept too close. I wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him for an eternity. He consuming me, devouring my hunger, and filling me while I gasp in happiest sighs!

I directed this whole scene and rewind it again and again in my mind. It gave me such a carnal high, like the dose of opium each time I imagined it, that I became addicted to this imagination and I was stuck in that imagination. I was threatened; my source of pleasure lies in an unfulfilled imagination. It also threatened my secure ties in my family as I’m in a one-sided monogamous relationship. In jitters! I met Rajneesh to understand the reason behind this carnal fixation on this man. What is the nourishment I’m getting from this unrealistic imagination and why am I so distressed if I’m getting nourished? I wanted to decode the riddle of my sexual obsession with this man.

Here’s what Rajneesh told me:

“Pallavi, you are not looking for sex from this man. You are looking for your fatherly figure in him. A man is looking for his mother in his partner while a woman looks for her father in her partner. We all have many parameters associated with our mother or father and when we meet someone, some of these parameters match. And so we become hooked to that person, but soon we realize that no single person can fulfill all the parameters and thus we become uninterested or disenchanted with that partner, moving ahead in search of the next who can fulfill our desired role of a mother or father.

Also, sometimes sex becomes an act of stress release into one body by another body. Else, why are you focused towards release? Why we say that only with the release of semen, can sex be fulfilled? It is because we are focussed towards the release of our built up of psychic energy, our stress that due to gravitational pull goes into our genitals. Such sex can never bring in you peace.”

 

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