Buying the C-word

Times are truly changing. Ask any group of around 10-20 people on how many of them have got laid in the last one month and you’ll see at least a dozen hand shooting up. Even if one takes into consideration that the thought process of nearly 50% of them went like ‘Get Laid? Oh shit, I have to show I’m cool. Lemme raise my hand and make a confident face. (Hand shoots up) There, now I am cool’, the fact remains that getting laid has really lost its elusive charm. The problem is that in the present times all that the non-committed guys have to do is look for a hopelessly drunk chick to get laid, and the committed guys of course are committed in order to have easy, free and unlimited access to sex.

So you see, the sex part is hardly the problem anymore. But know what is still tough as hell. BUYING the FRIGGIN CONDOM. Because make no mistake about it, buying the condom is still tough as hell. Now, here’s the deal with buying condoms. Fact No 1, guys never buy the condom from their regular chemist. Nope, that does not happen. In order to buy a condom, we go at least two to three kms away from our place to a remote and shady looking chemist. Fact No 2, now this might be the most deserted looking chemist in the world with a foot fall of 2 per week, but if we are going to get a condom from there, it’ll be full of people. All kinds of people.

In fact, there’ll always be these certain characters who would be present at the chemist-shop if you are going to buy a condom there. First, there always will be this angry looking fat aunty who’s buying medicines for her diabetic husband. Second, there will be this giggly teenage girl who’ll be there to buy here whispers and what not. And lastly, there’ll definitely be a couple of 6 year olds who for some reason that very day decided that the Chemist, instead of a frigging General store, is a better place to buy their candies and what not. And there you are, out there battling against odds, trying to buy that one wretched packet of condom, without which you certainly would not have that escapade you are so desperately looking forward to. So, what do you do? You do what any sane man would have done. You wait. You hang around for couple of minutes hoping for this group of people (which is almost looking like a mob to you) to leave. But it doesn’t. Instead, as you hang about looking at cupboards full of weir medicines, you just realize more and more people are turning up. And certainly none of the present lot is leaving.

So you think, what the hell, it’s a progressive society, and it’s not like I am committing a crime, so you decide to head right over to the chemist and ask him for it. But as soon as you start heading to that sly looking chemist, your confidence starts vanishing into that pure sweet air at the rate of 100 litres a second. So, by the time you are there, all you manage to do is whisper in the lightest voice possible, ‘bhaiya condom hai kya?’ To which the sadistic chemist shouts out his reply ‘KYA CHAHIYE BHAIYA?’

Now make no mistake about it, the chemist is one of the most sadistic motherf***er in the world, for he knows as well as God does, what you want. He knew it the moment you got your happy ass inside the Chemist shop. And more so when you whispered. Because no one really whispers when they’re asking for Complan or shit. Show me one guy whispering to a chemist asking for Complans, horlicks, boost or whatever shit health drink possible and I’ll be willing to change my sexuality for good.

By this time, courtesy to the chemist’s over-enthusiastic response, everybody is intrigued in what do you want. The aunty, the girl, the two kids, all are wondering ‘what does he want, what does he want’, as if the answer to that very question would solve life’s all problems for the. Anyway, being in the helpless situation you are in, you can do little but whisper again, ‘bhaiya condom chahiye?’ To which that bastard of a chemist shouts out in the loudest voice possible, ‘ACHA, CONDOM CHAIHIYE’. By this time everybody’s staring at you with the most killer looks possible. The fat aunty is looking at you as if you are f***ing her daughter. The teenage girl looks scared sh*t like you’re about to rape her. And the two little kids are really intrigued by this new word they have learnt and are talking amongst themselves, ‘Aye, what is this condom yaar? What is this condom?’ And there you are, embarrassed as hell, wishing the earth would swallow you up.

But the chemist isn’t done with his fun yet. So, withholding his sadistic smile, he shouts out again, ‘ACHA, KAUNSA WALA CONDOM CHAHIYE?’. To which you meekly manage a response, ‘durex bhaiya’, hoping against hope that this pain and embarrassment would get over soon. But that bastard chemist isn’t done yet. So he shouts out ‘DUREX MEI KAUNSA? DOTTED, ULTRATHIN, ya yeh naya FRUIT FLAVORED’. By this time you are so gutted, so embarrassed, feeling so fu**ed, that you’re thinking, ‘Boss, give whatever you want. Chahe to sirf POLYTHENE BAG hee de de, usi se kaam chala dunga. Bas, mujhe yaha se jaane de’.

And there, the ordeal is over. As soon as you get that packet, you hand him over whatever big note you have, not caring less about the change to be got back, and rush like there’s no tomorrow. (Reports indicate that half of chemist’s revenue is from these unreturned change obtained when people purchase condoms, making the job of a counter chemist a lucrative and deceivingly well paying one). It’s almost like god’s way of ensuring a balance between pleasure and pain in the world. If you want to go through the pleasure of sex, you better be fu**ing willing to walk through this acid test of buying the frigging CONDOM.