Vagina Insanity (9 page)

The interface between my mind and senses was lost. I
let the priest be the mediator to decide my future. The situation
was hyper-tensed but she was pardoned for everything and was told
to ask forgiveness from God in total submission. The priest advised
her to go to the retreat center, and for that, he told me to
accompany her. They apprehended that a week of time spent in
retreat would transform her into benignity.

Whether one goes to a retreat center or takes a dip
into the river Ganges or visits Makka and Madina, the ultimate
purification comes from his soul not from the place or the thing.
But I had to agree to their advices and we left for Potta Retreat
Center of Kerala. She knew that I was carrying a debit card which
she had already taken the password of. That was enough for her.

She took me to Kottayam.

She had me wait at the bus depot.

And she stole the card from my wallet.

Julia withdrew forty thousand rupees from two ATMs
leaving just ten thousand rupees in my account.

I waited for her until midnight but she did not come
back. I could not trace her out anywhere. Running helter-skelter,
using broken words to communicate with people, bearing the tremor
of cardiac arrest, I came back her home to find her whereabouts.
When I asked her parents, they started sniggering with Double Dutch
language in such a way as if they were proving to be the harbingers
of their daughter’s crime. Her father’s face was showing what his
sperm-drop can create. Their moral numbness seeping through the
eyes could barely let me communicate with them. I thought of going
to the church to complain.

The potential for understanding and constructive
cooperation was nowhere in them. Julia’s destructive struggle for
survival was the story they knew since Adam’s age. She had a dark
past of submitting herself as an odalisque to the rich rainmakers
wherever she saw. With the nymphomaniac malevolent nature, she had
played like a jilt in her real life leaving many gullible boys to
beg. I could sense a lot of credibility gap and delusion of
grandeur in the people I was complaining to.

‘As you both are not married yet, we cannot do
anything,’ they said.

The clever-clog priests and the coxcomb society took
my words on their deaf ears and didn’t help me trace her out.
Finally, I went to the police station, but the police also started
blaming me in return for the mishap. I found her nowhere. That day
I knew how much down a woman can stoop to rob a man. Feeling
frantic and derelict, I was left to wander in the streets of Kerala
for months as Billy-no-mates. Having no contact with anyone in the
world, repenting on my own deed, I sensed gynophobia crawling into
my soul to make me a misogamist forever.

After a few months, little by little, as I got my
mind stable, I got a job in a city of Kerala and started teaching
English. One day, I thought of calling my family in Delhi. The very
first sentence I heard on the phone was that my mother had already
died six months ago…..

“There is no light unless you burn yourself.”
–Aristotle

Chapter Twenty

“Happiness comes in life by doing good work. And you
do good work only when you are happy in life.”

Mira Road, Mumbai

In the year 2004, I got a job in a BPO, which is
generally called a call-center, and started doing the most hectic
job all in night shift. Working for more than three years in the
graveyard hours of night, I saved every single penny I earned, and
I purchased a flat in Mira Road. I was trying to develop contacts
with the people of film industry, because doing a rigorous job in
the call center had gifted me many physical and mental problem. A
computer with internet connection at home was keeping me active,
and I started renewing communication with the lost world.

In the call center, we agents were taught to
play all the nasty tricks to cheat American customers.
Our seniors forced us to tamper with the credit card
information of the customers and if we were caught red handed by
the clients also, we were left easily. The many agents like us were
trained to give financial damage to the callers for the profit of
the contractor and the company. We learnt how to extort money from
American customers, mislead the buyers, violet the process, set
false expectations, and drop the calls of irate customers in HP
outsourced call center of Mumbai. Almost ten times I tampered with
the customers’ credit card. From the frame of reference, the flip
side of the thought is that these call centers are nothing but
beltway bandits making their each employee’s day a bad-hair day.
The fence market in India is better than these Costa del Crimes
which are generating cubicle monkeys with their mental hard-disks
at the verge of crash.

I never let any bad habit conquer me because I
value life a lot, and
never spent money behind girls
for sexual gratification. I lived most of my time in loneliness but
tried to keep myself happy. Though I would not deny from the fact
that the disturbance brought a lot of ill-effects to me and I was
about to get attracted to homosexuality. I remember the day when I
was teaching a male student, suddenly my mind got so wild that I
got disposed to start kissing him. But just then, I got up from the
seat and had a glass of cold water. My loneliness was killing me so
mercilessly that, when I was in the friendship with a Christian
priest, I was getting eager to approach him with disgusting carnal
desire. Moreover, many a times my loneliness drove me to gain
absurd satisfaction from sadomasochism. But… at every slip, my
caliber could hold me up.

Most of the boys and girls working with me in the
call center were addicted to drinking, smoking, drugs, whoring and
homosexuality. But always avoiding their company, I was trying to
keep myself busy making contact with film directors and producers,
attending film-parties, writing lyrics and stories, hoping for a
foothold in the industry.

But there also I found that the film industry
understands only two languages – the language of bed or the
language of money. I am not exaggerating or lying. If you don’t
believe, come into this hell and see how it is. If the struggler is
a girl, she has to sleep with every man she meets until she gets a
movie in hand. By that time she becomes a half prostitute. For a
boy, no matter how talented he is, even if God comes to give his
testimony, they won’t hear. They won’t hear unless he invests his
own money. Otherwise he has to become a pimp or homosexual partner
of the pederast producers. Many of the film producers have bisexual
instinct, and for that, they want beautiful men to both sodomize
and to get sodomized. Being gigolo will get a struggler nowhere.
Yes, if he has the contact with underworld, then something may
happen. Seeing the reality of the movie industry at close quarter,
scanning from bedroom to washroom of them, I got convinced to the
fact that my way wouldn’t work, so I got my heel back.

Beware of them! All are beasts!!

They supply girls to develop contacts, make their
wives sleep with other men for getting finance, and they are
addicted to pedophilia. They make movies to show to the world, but
in their real lives many movies are made everyday.

Dropping the idea of becoming a writer in the
industry, I concentrated more on my call-center job. There was one
more field I could have tired – politics. Knowing that the World
Trade Center was demolished by the Zionist regime of Americans, the
Indians, who are the best copy-cat of the world, had already got
into the political footprint of them. And following the same trail,
some politicians staged 26/11 terror attack in Mumbai. Mr. Modi and
Thackeray are the leading names for that! It is n
ot
that I am talking-about-talks but telling you the truth that only
these politician play pogrom-politics. If you ask me the proof, do
you think every crime of the world leaves a proof behind? And if
the proofs are found, don’t you know that they are suppressed by
money power? Don’t you know that Indian media is most corrupt in
the world?

The politicians have already sold India, now
they would sell their mothers.
Recently in 2011, the
Congress Party of India, facing insult at every corner of the
country, gave bribe to a certain organization to start a fiasco
revolution to keep the people busy for at least two years. Anna
Hazare is that fiasco revolutionary!

Now in this coming election of 2014, the Indians are
going to support the fundamentalist regime BJP forgetting that this
party’s members killed the president of Pakistan – Zinha and after
yeas, said that he was secular and the best leader of the world.
This party created its foundation on the basis of building Ram
Temple in Ayodhya, but when it came in power, it declined to build.
I don’t know what this party can do for the betterment of
India.

“The things that made me stronger are the ones that
didn’t let me sleep at once.” –Anonymous

Chapter Twenty-one

“The secret of walking on water is knowing where the
stones are.” –Proverb

The Internet was entertaining, but sleeping alone in
the night was making me feel life abhorrent. The habit of
jerking-off every night before sleep was also not giving
satisfaction anymore. Somebody told me to keep a paying guest to
avoid loneliness and I got a non-paying guest who was struggling
for a singing career. He started staying with me. After sometime, a
TV serial associate director also started staying with me. I did
not take rent from them.

The director, while living together, pushed me into
the habit of drinking which I still hate. He took me to the places
where I could have accessed to the prostitutes and white slaves,
but I did not do. Some of my friends used to go to beer-bar to see
bar-dance but I never went. Though I was getting tempted to, yet at
every temptation I remembered how hard I struggled to reach there
in life.

After completing one and half year in the first call
center, I got so much saturated that I left the job. The call
centers run by the contractors in India are the worst place for the
employees. Money was the only thing I worked for because ‘no money’
means ‘no life’ in Mumbai.

I took rest for three months, and then decided to
join another call center, and for that I was talking to my ex
colleagues. They often asked me if I could find any girlfriend, and
my answer was always no. In a run to make my life secure, I could
not get the time to think of a girlfriend. All the girls were
looking like mother to me.

As the time was passing, the age was defining the
necessity of a life partner more strongly, and my effort to
ignoring it was making it more serious. For some obvious reasons,
after spending one and half years of time in Mumbai, at the age of
twenty-nine; the need of a woman was hovering over my head to drive
me insane.

O my God… finding a woman was the most difficult!

Finding a bed-partner is always possible in Mumbai,
but life-partner is impossible. But when something is on stake, one
has to try his best. It takes both rain and sunshine to create a
rainbow. I just thought that I won’t go the way life takes but I
will take my life the way I go.

After thinking several times, I uploaded my
matrimonial profile on jeevansathi.com and shaadi.com websites, and
started calling the numbers of matrimonial advertisements of the
Times of India and DNA newspapers. I got some good and bad
experiences from that.

Almost fifty percent of the women who post their
profile on matrimonial websites are prostitutes, twenty percent are
fun-seekers, and only a few use them do it for genuine purpose.
These websites should not be exonerated from the blame of creating
a mirage-like deception to those who are really in the need of a
life-partner.

One day, I got an expression sent through shaadi.com
by a girl named Pushpa Lal who lived in Nagpur. Within a day she
gave me her email address and we started chatting using yahoo
messenger. I felt something embarking to adventure raising me to
subtlety. The time she preferred to chat was midnight. I asked her
the reason of coming online late, and she answered that in the day
time she worked at her mom’s hospital. Night was the only time she
got free to talk. My sharp-six rang the alarm of possible
deception, but ‘beggars cannot be choosers’. I took it for a valid
reason and we started chatting every night. She let me talk to her
mother on phone and we shared each other’s photographs also. Within
a week, I got the invitation from her so-called mother to come to
Nagpur to talk about marriage.

The buried past, blurry present and unborn future,
were making my life a question in itself whether it was worth
living. But not applying strength meant if the sky falls, I would
catch the lark. Revolting against frustration, opposing obscure
intuition, I made up my mind to reach out the propensity of
twinkling turbulence.

Seeing the situation turning positive, I let my steps
go ahead. Both of my room-mates also made me understand the
importance of marriage and need of a wife. I agreed to their points
and kept on communicating with Pushpa. I used to call her almost
every day. Her mother spoke to me a second time and called me to
Nagpur again. A sweet talk of her with emotional family-touch made
me remember my family. I got my heart filled with the feeling of
respect and love for Pushpa and her family as well.