“So, have you made sex with a girl?” I smiled at the question. It’s usually asked the third or fourth time you hang out with an Indian. It’s always direct and filled with curiosity.
“Yes.” I try to say it directly. I can’t contain the smile because of what this conversation has yet to unravel.
“How many times?” Perplexed because I’ve never kept count. Sometimes I have a hard time knowing how many. Waking up from a blackout with a girl in your arms doesn’t always entail that I got lucky. I’d like to think it does, but I’ve been told it doesn’t.
“I’ve had fun. Lets just keep it at that.” He looks at me with a childish grin. I far from a womanizer and people that know me will tell you that I have no game. For reasons foreign to me one out forty finds something in me and initiates it.
“How many girlfriends have you had?” This question becomes tough on me. I’ve never liked labels. There was one labeling and the after shocks are still felt in the ripples of the well.
“I haven’t had many girlfriends, but I’ve had a good amount of flings.” I’m tip toeing around this subject.
“Flings? What’s this?”
“A fling is a physical connection without the whole dating. It’s very. It’s very casual. It’s not serious.”
“So, you have sex, but do not date.”
“So you just had sex, but did not like the girl. You had sex to have sex.” His childlike smile transformed into a muddled mess.
I’m kind of taken aback. I appreciate the innocence of him. It reminded me of an old fling who was very innocent. She was much older than me. Ten years and a couple months, but I had lived a much rougher life than her. She was straight laced. I was trying to bury my past. It’s hard to speak frank with someone that has not really done anything wrong in life. It’s difficult for me because I become self-conscious. I begin to feel guilty for my self. I try my hardest to put it lightly. “Something like that. I liked them. They just weren’t the one, I guess. We enjoyed each other’s company, but the physical and emotional were not complimentary. We enjoyed the physical, but mental there wasn’t a connection. For a relationship you should enjoy the person’s presence. In a fling you’re just having fun. A relationship is something special. I hope that makes sense.”
We sat there for a moment in silence. He had a smirk on his face. I guess I would be amused if someone openly talked about how they see sex and relationships after knowing them for so little. I’ve become accustom to people being curious about western culture. I have to explain I don’t represent the west. I represent myself, but they’re still intrigued. He shifted in his seat and looked at me.
“Have you ever had a girlfriend?” I know the answer will be no. It’s a very rare thing in Udaipur. I can see his discomfort and realize he’s embarrassed to say no. I attempt to save him. “Are you married?” It may sound odd to some, but this is more appropriate.
“No, I’m not married, but I’m engaged.” He seemed more relaxed.
“Nice, Congratulations. Is it arranged?”
“Yes, she’s from Jaipur.”
“Very cool. Have you guys set a date or anything like that?”
“No. Our families met. I believe we are getting married next year.”