Fuck Sensitivity.

Recently, I fed my baby in full public view in a Starbucks outlet, and Mister clicked a picture of us. I loved how we looked in the photo, so I posted it on my real-life (for want of a better word) Facebook account. In fact, it is now my profile picture.

My newly-addicted-to-Facebook-but-not-that-savvy mom was quick to comment that I shouldn’t have posted the picture, which was expected because in her fifty something years, she hasn’t ever seen anyone do this. I politely (I hope) explained that there was a need to normalize breastfeeding so people get used to women nursing in public.  I think my exact words were – Breasts are meant to feed babies, not to sell cement and chips and cold drinks.

So far, life was good.

And then, I got “advice” from several people, which was basically smooth talk asking me to take the photo down because “it’s in bad taste” and because “feeding in public can make some men uncomfortable” and “can’t believe you fed him in a coffee shop where even kids go”.


You think you need to protect children from boobs?! The first fucking human contact that a child has is with breasts – there’s nothing sexual about that contact and your kid knows it. It’s you adults that have it all wrong.

Boobs are meant to nourish, not to lure/entice men OR sell lousy merchandise. The reason why you cringe at the sight of a breastfeeding mother is that you see women and breasts as inherently sexual objects.

Why else would you know so many (a) women with smaller breasts always looking for “push-up” and “maximizer” bras and (b) women with larger breasts forever trying to cover up?

Why else would you be ok with a man going shirtless, nipples showing and all, but recoil at the thought of a woman’s nipples becoming visible (nipslip) even by accident?

And pray, how do you intend to raise awareness about larger issues like breast cancer when you’re so embarrassed by breasts? By posting bra colors in a group restricted to women?

Fuck your sensitivity. My photo’s staying.

Okay, I went and changed the image. I’m supposed to be a woman without a face, remember?

of molestrologers and new year resolutions – part 3

Call me old-fashioned, but I really don’t think it’s ok for an old astrologer to poke a pregnant (or not) woman in her genitals under any circumstances.

And trust me, though a dimwit thinks he has his wife convinced that his intentions were merely to demonstrate how to accupressure works on a pregnant woman’s ovaries, his marriage is in trouble.

How do I know this? Because at 7:45 am on the 29th of December, K. Santhanam rang my doorbell. Mom answered, and he said that:

  • He has no reason to be attracted to me because he has an “active” relationship with his wife and he loves her very much.
  • His loving wife was upset with him at first, but then understood that he was just “doing his job”.

Then, he asked to speak to me personally to sort out the “misunderstanding” – which I refused to do.

Then he told mom that I had overreacted without listening to his (cock and bull) side of the story. Mom decided to humor him, which was a mistake, because what ensued was three elaborate versions of how:

(a) He did not touch me on the right side but on the left because he was recently in an accident and could not possibly have moved that arm,

(b) He did not actually do anything and it must’ve been my own hand, and

(c) I put his hand on my crotch myself.

If mom were capable of saying fuck you, she would’ve. Despite her best intentions, she let him walk away with some of his dignity intact.

Now, it was up to me to do what I could to strip him of his reputation. I couldn’t get over how breathtakingly insulting his demeanor was. I started by telling everyone I knew in the Mayur Vihar area about what he had done, requesting them to tell everyone they knew.

Mom and the lady who lives next door went to the Ganesha temple to request that he be taken off the administrative panel. They promised to consider it, but did nothing about it.

Even so, by noon, the news had spread like wildfire. The phone was ringing off the hook, and we had several visitors who sympathized with me and promised to do what they could. Within a few hours, the man had lost his credibility among his social circle – which, at 70+, means a lot.

My brother asked if I was going to report him to the police. I dismissed the idea immediately. How am I going to shuttle between courts and the police station when I have a baby coming out of me? Besides, he’s getting what he deserves – ostracism.

But I was wrong. It took only a few hours for me to realize how easy it would be for this man to just shift to a new house and escape his punishment. By evening, I couldn’t believe I was going to bring a baby into a world where perpetrators of sexual violence can get away with just a slap on the wrist – because I was too lazy to step out of my comfort zone.

I discussed this with mom and Mister at length. If I don’t do this now, I will never be able to teach my kid to stand up for his/her rights. And if someone educated like me will back down because it is inconvenient for me to go to the police, how can I judge those that brush things like this under the carpet was all it took to convince them.

So I wrote to the Delhi Commission for Women (DCW) detailing the incident and asking for legal advice. I am yet to hear back, but I feel lighter because this incident taught me something I would like to teach my unborn child (who will probably be here this time next week to learn it!)

Always do the right thing even if it is bloody inconvenient.

This is going to be my new year resolution. This year, and every year after this one.

And to those of you who were kind enough to share my posts on Facebook, I can’t thank you guys enough! I came across some other women who have had similar experiences with the SAME GUY. They are helping, too.

Really, thank you. You made a difference. A BIG one.

of molestrologers and new year resolutions – part 2

A 72-year old astrologer molested me on the 28th of December. And what did I do?

Nothing. I just got up and left.

When Mister came home, I told him what had happened. I feel so dirty, I said, alternating between rage and disgust. He said nothing, just hugged me tighter every time I came close to tearing up.

Where’s mom?

At the temple.

The doorbell rang, as if on cue. Ma entered, beaming.

How did it go?

Very well. Santhanam’s wife taught me how to do puja properly in the Ganesh temple…

… while he was busy molesting Ana.


Mom was shocked out of her wits. Mister told her what had happened. It’s my fault. I should never have left her alone with him. 

No, it’s not your fault. He had no right to touch me. 

We sat in silence for a while, and then I got up and declared I was going to confront him. They didn’t want me to, because of all the stress it would cause.

I won’t be able to live with myself if I let the bastard get away – and that is way worse than the stress confrontation would cause.

So we decided to confront him in front of his family – we took our neighbours (who are Santhanam’s old acquaintances) along for support.

I huffed and puffed my way up to the top floor, where he lives. We stormed into the house and demonstrated to his wife exactly what he had done, and asked her if she thought it was indeed an accupressure demo, and whether ok for him to do that. She sat there shaking her head in disbelief, while Santhanam smiled menacingly and told me that he was seventy two years old and at his age, his intention was obviously not to molest me – he had merely touched me as a “doctor” would.

My otherwise quiet neighbor spoke up. Actually, no male doctor touches women this way. They always bring in female nurses to do the examinations. In fact, even for women’s lung exams, they check from the back, not the front.

I was not happy with the non-aggressive, rational tone the neighbor had taken. Tell me this, you pervert, would you be ok if my husband, who is a certified Yoga instructor, touched your granddaughter exactly how you touched me?

Santhanam slapped his hands together in a mock apology and said – Ok, you are right and I am sorry. Now please go.

The dismissive manner in which he spoke infuriated me even more than the inappropriate touching.

We left, but not before I told him I wasn’t going to leave him alone.

You’re going to be really sorry you did this.

Can you believe that he actually stuck to his “accupressure” story? Would you actually touch a person in their private parts to demonstrate how pressure should be applied? 

of molestrologers and new year resolutions – part 1

Believe it or not, I got molested last week by a 72 year old astrologer.  Yes, you read that right.

Me, a heavily pregnant woman the size of a small planet, about to deliver any second now, poked in the crotch by an old rambling man with one arm debilitated in an accident and one leg in the proverbial grave.

Let me back up a bit.

Mister’s mom and I had heard fascinating things about K. Santhanam, a well-known palmist and astrologer who lives at 92, Pocket D, Mayur Vihar Phase 2, Delhi – 110091. (I decided to add his complete address here, just in case you feel compelled to send him hate mail after reading this shit.)

So anyway. Mom and I decided to consult this guy because we were curious about what he would have to say about my future. And yes, I believe in this mumbo jumbo when I feel like it.

He started by telling us how he was an accomplished astrologer-cum-face reader-cum-palmist-cum-something else who had even been consulted by an ex-president of India in this very house.

He talks too much, I whatsapped Mister.

Then he went on to talk about how he was an engineer at a senior post, and how he had sent a woman employee home because he had predicted, just by looking at her face, that she was going to deliver a baby boy the same day. Then he told me how she called at 4 pm to say she had just delivered. A baby boy.

30 min and he hasn’t talked about my horoscope yet, I whatsapped Mister again.

Then he got to the point. He told me three things:

  1. I had a “motherly” streak in my personality and I shouldn’t let it go.
  2.  My “gonads” (I think he meant ovaries) were not functioning properly because of lack of sexual activity. This was the root cause of all my health problems.
  3. Having my baby and breastfeeding would “fix” my health for good.

All this while, he kept gesturing at his groin to indicate “gonads” and at his chest area to indicate breastfeeding. He also said something about my beautiful face and lips and I found this odd, but did not think too much about it because he was a senile old man (and also because I’m not easily embarrassed about my body).

He told me nothing of significance about my career or relationship or anything else, and quite honestly, I refrained from asking because he had taken 45 minutes to give me the aforementioned load of crap about my gonads. I was actually relieved when he moved to mom’s horoscope.

His observations about mom were very regular in nature; he said that she was an open person. He asked her to do pujas in the nearby temple, then indicated that there was one going on right now and that his wife was going there.

I (stupidly) asked ma to accompany his wife – but in my defense, his grown-up granddaughter was in the house and I had no reason to feel threatened. At this time, he was looking at my palm.

As soon as ma left,  he started talking about my “gonads” again, then put his hand on my thigh and slid it up to my crotch. When I objected, he told me he was trying to show me the acupressure points that would help me fix my health problems. As he spoke, his hand was still on my thigh.

I slapped his hand away, got up, and instead of going ninja on him, I mumbled something about his behavior being completely inappropriate, gathered my belongings and left.

Has something like this ever happened to you? How would you react if you were in this situation? Do you think I under-reacted?

(On a lighter note, what do you think about the term molestrologer? Giggles came up with it!)

Here’s what happened next.

Hello! Is it me you’re looking for?

Hey there! If you’re a regular reader of this blog, a big hug and a warm welcome to you. You know your way around here, and know what to expect. So you can get on to your business reading stuff, laughing at my expense, and leaving comments that leave me either in awe or in terror.

If this is your first time here, and you found me through a common blogger friend, an awkward side hug and namaste to you. I hope you like what you see here. If however you found me by searching for my first lesben exparance or lesbien expweience, I’m so so sorry to disappoint. This is not that type of website.

I’m not sure I write daughter fuck behild the mother stories either. No, actually I’m sure I don’t write shit like that. And dude, if you looking for tips and tricks on masturbation you may want to try the correct spelling. No it’s not mustrabation, matubasion, or mastuerbation.

And you, dear Deepika Padukone nipslip junkie – I know you’re wondering how searching for deepika padukone showing her boobs at photoshop or deepika wearing colth where find her nipple or dipika open boobs could’ve led you here. Beats me!

And if you were the one searching for thong clad men of tumblr or men jogging in thongs naked tumblr or gay lust imraan hashmi nude, or punished/rape sister/daughter porn videos, I literally don’t even know what to say to you.

Is it strange that over 80% of the search terms for my blog have to do with sex? What are the weirdest search terms for your blog?