If you’re one of those art-collecting, networking, proactive-parenting, working couples, there’s really no time for sex, except on the occasional Sunday. If you lived in, say, Nagpur, you would probably be surfing those sex websites with your partner or swapping with your neighbours. But this is the big city. Where’s the time for such creative pursuits? It’s probably reached the point where you pick cricket (or a pedicure) over sex (and your partner understands).
Besides, if you’re like most Indian couples I know, your partner still doesn’t know what really turns you on. I remember one stockbroker confessing over multiple whiskys that he would like his wife to be more “assertive” in the bedroom. The thought of discussing it with her had never crossed his mind. And then, before you know it, the years have whizzed by. I guess it could be awkward if you suddenly announced after five years of marriage that when you pick up a Penthouse Letters, you turn straight to the “someone’s watching” section.
I know you think you’re too cool for those sex tips in Cosmopolitan so I won’t discuss G-spots or the other uses of a hair scrunchie. After all, you read The Economist even if, as a learned colleague pointed out recently, the magazine now says things like: “Pakistan is in a dangerous and unstable neighbourhood” and Pakistan is a nation “with a proud tradition of tolerance and moderation”.
So here’s my quick fix: Watch a disturbing erotic movie together. Not the standard issue B-grader, but something like, say, The Secretary. The best part about this 2002 film, a sadomasochistic comedy, is its lead pair Maggie Gyllenhaal and James Spader. Spader, who has been the sexy woman’s Hugh Grant since that 1989 flick Sex, Lies, and Videotape, is predictably good. But Gyllenhaal (sister of the yummy Jake) is truly astounding.
This was the role that got her noticed and nominated. Her performance is in the league of Charlize Theron (Monster) or Nicole Kidman (The Hours).
So Gyllenhaal plays a troubled woman who’s just out of an institution and who keeps cutting and burning herself every time she’s upset. She gets a job as a secretary to a shy sadomasochist (Spader) and discovers the joys of spanking.
It’s a film that’s bound to make you question your self-enforced sexual boundaries and your pointless inhibitions. It’s guaranteed to start a conversation that will probably begin with “What on earth...?” and that will (hopefully) show results in the bedroom.
What better Saturday than 26 January to update your sexual constitution.
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