My Satire, My Perversion - How low can I go?

All my outgoing emails now have a link to my blog. And so, I have had my share of cursory readers. One inquisitive reader in Newyork was curious about the meaning of my blog title - Tanmaya Vichara Marga. For the benefit of those who are linguistically challenged, its sanskrit for "The path of Self-inquiry".

I could almost sense what she was thinking, that it was a blasphemy to be using a sanskrit title to address topics related to sexual dynamics, more so because, there is more to self-inquiry than Jack Rabbits and Orgasm etiquettes. "Sexual dynamics" surely ain't my euphemism for perversion. I know! Thats what the producers of "Desperate Housewives" must be saying.

Seriously though, I believe that there is tremendous scope for satire in sexuality. The rhetoric of sexuality is such that its metaphors can be drawn from everyday life.

The other day, I was inquiring about one of those "creative dates" that my friend, 'Mocha_Da_Flava_Seeker' went on. It was at the shooting range. I have never been to one before. Everything that I quizzed her, somehow carried enough double entendre to tread the thin line between unforced satire and being outrageously nasty. "When you squeezed the trigger, did your palm feel the shock?" , "How many rounds did you do?". All valid questions aite?

Dont even get me started on a creative date like "rock climbing", what with tying and pulling, belaying and coming down and such other "verb"asive references.



Agreed!! We men have a case of misplaced hearts or just blame it on gravity.

But, my quest for satire will not be lost in the dark, twisted ravens of perversion...phew! you know what I mean. Thats my story and this one aint that stuck.