From here to eternity
Europeans are pretty blasé when it comes to nudity.
Although we hate to admit it, modern Indian culture is for the most part, sexually immature. Nudity is closely associated with shame and skeptics are referred to Dr David Dhawan (full time movie director and part time psychologist) who will set them straight on izzat and nanga panga. Why just last week in Goa, we were treated to the spectacle of five gents from Tirunelveli ogling two hapless aunties chastely clad in saris who were disporting themselves in the hotel swimming pool. The situation was rendered even more piquant by the fact that the hotel staff were remonstrating with the ladies that they were inappropriately dressed; the watchmen (pun intended) were having none of it. “They are enjoying, I say, why you are giving trouble, aaanh? Po da.”
Reading Manoj Das’s short story, “The Naked”, which deals with the travails of, Nathu, an old family retainer requisitioned by the erstwhile Maharani to provide hospitality to a group of visiting European nudists at her crumbling ancestral home, brought back memories of a visit to the Costa Brava many moons ago.
Europeans are pretty blasé when it comes to nudity. Swedes majestically divest themselves of all clothing including bathrobe en route to a sauna, Germans believe a coat of sun-tan lotion is all the protection they need from the elements while the French make Adam and Eve (Saint Laurent) look over-dressed. Indians, on the other hand, tend to giggle helplessly when it comes to revealing what my friend Raymond referred to as “wedding tackle” or when sufficiently spiritually inspired as “yer family jewels, men.” Grizzled grandfathers go through paroxysms of embarrassment in changing rooms performing the shimmy shimmy shake with a towel draped around their nether regions. Continued…Read full original article…
Source: Deccan Chronicle
Original publication Oct 7, 2018
Posted on NatCorn Yesterday