Woolgatherer's Tales
Woolgatherer's Tales
Letter to an old acquaintance
Hello mister pervert,

Remember me? I often bump into you on the street. In fact, we met twice today; once in the morning when I made my way to work and you complimented me on my dark goggles and fair complexion by singing a line of a Hindi film song, and then in the evening when you invited me to a bagiya.

Okay, now that you recollect who I am, let me take this opportunity to thank you for umpteen gifts you have bestowed on me. Let me beign with the gift of early revelation. I remember meeting you for the first time when I was around 12. It was a hot summer afternoon and I was walking back from a video store when you gave me the first ever glimpse of a wee-wee. Thanks ever so much for helping me grow up before time.

Mister ageless man, thanks for always being around. Friends may come and go, but you have always been there. Giving me that look as I walked back from school, making me run past the dark alley after a late tution class, whistling when I rushed for an early morning lecture with hair still wet, twitching my breast as I walked with my mother, trying to rub against me in a crowded bus...you have never let me feel unwanted.

Thanks for scaring my family. You also get the credit for ridding me of three girlfriends whose marriage I could not attend as my family feared you would make an appearance as I got back home. Yeah, and that rafting trip I could never take, thanks to you, old pal.

Mister man-from-no-particular-social-strata, you are also the one to be thanked for putting me off boys in my teens. You made sure I never went for moon-lit walks, I never ate ice cream on the green-dewy lawns of India Gate at midnight, I stayed home on the eve of millennium, and I never wasted time on a lot of other such meaningless experiences.

After all it is my fault that I am a girl. A girl who needs to be safe. A girl who needs to think three times before visiting a friend late in the evening. A girl who has learned to inwardly smile at lewd invitations for a quickie behind the wall. A girl who is looked at as an object. And, you are the man of suppressed desires and overflowing frustration. You need an outlet. I understand. However, I do not want you to meet my future daughter. Do you understand? I do not want you to scare my little girl out of her wits while she is on a trip to Vaishno Devi with her friends. I do not want you to soil my daughter's fond memories of the first kiss. I will not let you. Today, I promise myself that I'll take the first small but meaningful step to ensure my future child's safety. I will call 1091 the next time I see you.

Yours sincerely,
mystic chick
posted by mystic chick @ 7:07 AM  
  • At 9:32 AM, Blogger Ankit said…

    hats off to you!!!!
    GODMAX post.
    I have just one doubt dont you think 12 is way to young.

  • At 12:11 PM, Blogger the wannabe indian punkster said…

    Join the club!
    what is up with these pervs and their breast pinching...and why is it that the older they are...the more perverted they get?
    "Mister ageless man, thanks for always being around. Friends may come and go, but you have always been there."
    you hit the nail on the head.

  • At 7:36 PM, Blogger mystic chick said…

    Hey Ankit,

    No 12 ia not way too young for learning about the birds and the bees or about anatomy of opposite sex. But the first ever erection that you see in your life is that of a strange middle-aged man, sitting in a car, posing as a man in great pain, pointing to his penis and asking for directions to a doctor? No, for that even 16 is too young.

  • At 8:20 PM, Blogger Beks said…

    It's sad but true that we all have so many stories to relate. The worst part is it doesn't matter whether it's day or night or what you wear. It can happen anytime, anywhere and it keeps happening even when we've learnt to laugh it off.

  • At 11:33 PM, Blogger Ankit said…

    yaar no post since a long long time ...why???

  • At 4:13 PM, Anonymous Anonymous said…

    As a Blog-athon pariticipant, please help us in taking the Blank Noise Project global. Write a comment, add a story, join in the conversation!

    Check it out at http://imaginingourselves.imow.org/pb/Story.aspx?id=410&lang=1

  • At 6:05 AM, Blogger aneesshh said…

    well written post....

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Twenty something. Indian. Genial. People Pleaser. Writer of a sort. Romanticist. Insecure. Impulsive. Emotional. Secretive in real life. Anonymous in cyberland.

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