I always believe that the Indian Morality is a subdued stain of worthless ethical interpretations and boneless pretentiousness. When you hear ‘Sex’ you too will close the eyes and ears, but will certainly open them a little while later, just to watch anyone else is doing so. And when you find no one there, you will royally enjoy the rest.
This is what I meant worthless.
In the latest days, there was an Art Exhibition, Tits, Clits and Elephant Dick, at Jehangir Art Gallery, Kala Ghoda. The Exhibition was meant to depict the commercialization of sex and spirituality in the current stream of life. It proudly displayed how important it is to understand the self within oneself for a better understanding of one’s own sexuality. It was not an aesthetic outcry of the art today, but was a neat reprisal of the suppressed humanoid emotions.
But it was eclipsed for breaking the moral horizons. Most of the idols were given a cover up. Something which is meant to cheer up the moral apprehension is brutally outshined by the characterless moral prudery. Loathsome.
This is what I meant pretentiousness.
Sex is a taboo in India or it has become like that. The very word ‘sex’ itself is enough to turn the heads back. Parents are worried to tell their kids about it and kids are confused and trying new means to find it. Teachers ‘hate’ the word itself. Students are segregated in schools and colleges based on their sex. But day after day, sex-related crimes are increasing. Nights are becoming the hot shops of anti-natural sexual undertones. Media look pregnant with stories of rape, abuse and other sexual imputations. Streets, vehicles, parks and even one’s own home are not safe.
But why is it so? The only reason behind all these commotion is the suppression of this most universal sensation that is as wide and wonderful as life itself. Since normal communication and friendship between a boy and a girl is hindered by social taboos, the two sexes live in two different worlds and suffer from a great communication gap. What we perceive as crimes and problems are just side effects that happen due to these unfriendly outlooks. Human sexuality has always had a darker side, but it is truly the need of the time to have an in-depth look at this forbidden pleasure and how it fits into the strange, wonderful spectrum of human life.
After all there is this most painful fact. Slaughter of Art.
Art is not life. That’s why art is called Art and life is called Life. But art can be life at times. Or it has to be. Otherwise there is no Art and No Life.