Last week I received an invitation to
something called a Cuddle Up Party. The people who were behind it were friends
of friends. I was told that this was something they were trying for the first
time considering how oxytocin deprived we were as a race living in the
twenty-first century. “You are free to bring a friend, or your girlfriend, but
please bear in mind that this party has been designed by, and strictly, for
heterosexuals.” Said the woman speaking to me in a genial voice.
“Isn’t that
unfair,” I said, “everyone ought to be given the right to feel good, don’t
they?”
The woman apologised
for the rules being this stringent, but promised that they were organising such
endeavours towards the end of the year for those who did not fall into the
gamut of the heterosexual.
“That is good,” I
said, “we must learn to respect everyone.”
“You are right,
sir,” she said and asked me if I was confirmed. “I am in,” I said.
When I shared with John, a friend, the
theme of such an event, and made known that I was going, he lashed out with
astonishment, “Dude, you must be fucking out of your mind because cuddling is such
a gay thing man!”
I scanned John with
scorn and advised him to stop being homophobic because in India people cuddled,
held hands, and slept together in the most non-sexual way.
“I think he’s
lost his mind,” reacted John.
I preferred not
to say anything when Rohan who had accompanied me, kept his cup of coffee aside
and asked, “When did this come to India?”
John curved his
eyebrows, “When did what come to India?” he asked coldly.
“This entire gay bunkum,”
adjoined Rohan.
“How am I
supposed to know, man?” said John.
“Such markers
started to do active and aggressive rounds in our society some fifteen years
ago or so,” added Rohan, and then he shook his head to indicate how pathetic
putting people in a sexual box was, “and after that everyone is gay and everything
is gay.”
I noticed how John
was not agreeable to what Rohan was saying, and quite honestly, Rohan or I cared
less for what John, who was being a bigot in this instance, thought. For me, to
even use the word ‘gay’ in order to categorise a human being was a clear violation
of one’s dignity. It only meant to signify in strong neon signs that the person
using it was a twat, a partisan one at that, because being heterosexual or non-heterosexual
was a matter of personal choice, and being a straight man, if I had no problem
around people who were not of my orientation, then it was nobody else’s
business to oppose it too. Add to that I found this preoccupation of people
with other peoples sexuality as more atrocious than lame. Were people actually that
idle to speculate about who was dating whom? And what gender was developing
romantic interests within their own gender?
Back to the topic, I was glad that
something like this was being attempted for starters, even if it were rather
limited for now, because intimacy was awfully important in any relationship,
and caught up in the rush to do and outdo, to keep safe within societal rubrics
that are bollocks anyway, we forget that in order to survive both within our
relationships, and as individuals, we need that touch of love, be it from a
parent, a friend, a lover, a colleague and just about anybody who gives us that
reassuring touch.
Problem with men in particular is that
they are taught from an early age that physical touch is nearly always
attributed to the touch of sex and
the touch for sex unless of course it
is the proximity they share while at sport etcetera. They grow up observing
that to grope and grab is natural even if it is one of the most pathetic ways
of showing one’s want for physical pleasure, but since it is done with those of
the opposite sex, it is acceptable, while to touch a man is a violation (just
as my friend had reacted when I told him I was going to this Cuddle Up Party). Coming
to think of it, it is not entirely the flaw of the generation, since a
generation is indeed shaped very much by us. If we haven’t paid attention to the
chasms, and we haven’t educated people on what is right and what is wrong, then
we are intrinsically at fault more than anyone else and it would be incorrect
then to entirely blame the time.
I feel men must be taught that physical
touch is not sinful, that once you reach an age of maturity, physical touch is
about heightening the mental and emotional wellbeing of one’s own self. That
when it comes to the power of touch, then there is nothing more comforting than
to have those who mean something to you touch you in a way that makes you feel
nice. Keep in mind that it is not the nakedness of the human body that should
be troubling you, everyone has the same anatomy, so to be around people of your
gender, or the opposite sex, ought not to create this notion that nakedness is
an invitation of sex or deviousness. View a body for a body. Similarly, let
someone embrace you with their warmth by trusting them for what they are. Like
eyes are the windows to one’s soul, touch is an indicator of what one is trying
to convey, and not all who touch you want to have sex with you.
Also, this wall that men have erected
around them has plenty to do with our behavioural evolution as well. Society
nurtures men to be hunters, and women as homemakers. The only interaction that
men have had with men at such times was when they were watching the backs of
the men they set out to with while hunting in packs. For their vulnerable side,
they returned home to their women. That said it does not mean that men have not
shared what they wanted with their own gender, they have, only that is was a
tad less in degree compared to what they would with a woman and then this ‘gay’
angle brought about an inhibition in them and ruined things even further. What
is odd is that the gay talk was not even part of our culture, and was an import
from the west. There is enough and more material on this to refer to if one
wants to delve deeper. We cannot amend evolution, and we do not have to amend
it too, but, yes, we can amend the way at which we look at the world around us.
Men do not kiss women unless they have dropped the veil of inhibition that they
have built around them since their infancy. Likewise, a man does not curl his
arm around a man’s neck unless he is infinitely comfortable in that space of
brotherhood in a friendship. More than anything we ought to let go of the silly
notions that have been ingrained in us by society, or by our elders (who were
rather stiff about the expression of their affection), and in so doing we will
gather that we have much to do with each other than merely peeling off our clothes
and leaping into the bed with anybody who touches us.
The Cuddle Up
Party
I landed at the location on time. There
was a pretty woman who greeted me warmly and invited me into a large hall that
was done up cosily. There were faux leather headrests lining the walls. There
were cushions of all sizes in lovely pastel shades strewn about on flat beds
wrapped in shades of off-white and light-yellows. The walls were covered in
sage green self-design oriental wallpaper. The large chandelier that hung down from
the high ceiling was certainly Italian or Spanish. Its dangling crystals shone
like stars. I couldn’t find a single friend, barring a young woman sitting with
her head burrowed between her folded knees, her back to the wall. Being an
ambivert, to see someone new, suddenly struck me with a feeling of wanting to
take to my heels, but I instructed my mind to take control of its impulses. My
entering the venue might have alerted her senses as she looked up and smiled at
me rather cordially. I returned her smile in like fashion. Her body language provided
me the necessary ease that it was all right to exchange pleasantries with her.
I learnt that she lived close by. We were chitchatting, superficially of
course, when couple of my friends put in an appearance. Seeing them felt like
life had been injected into my partially tense nerves. One of them sat next to
me.
“Doesn’t this
seem like one of those days when we first went to school,” he said softly,
leaning towards me.
“I agree,” I
replied.
“I feel
butterflies in my stomach,” said the young woman I had freshly been acquainted
with.
My friend and I smiled
quietly.
“Are you also
nervous or anxious,” she asked.
“I don’t think I
feel any of both,” I said, “I am quite looking to see where this goes.”
My friend too
added a quick ‘ditto’ to it.
In about half an hour we were thirty-two
of us. Except for ten new faces, the rest of us were acquainted with each
other. The pretty woman who had greeted me at the entrance entered and sat in
the centre of the hall. She cleared her throat and welcomed us, going on to
tell us that she would brief us about the rules of the evening. Before that we had
to introduce ourselves, which we each did.
“I am going to
ask you some questions,” said she, “and you will have to try and answer them
honestly.”
Some of us looked
at each other and smiled.
“Shall we begin?”
Everyone nodded.
“Has everyone
brought along the loose tee shirts and slacks that had been specified in the
invitation?”
Yes, said everybody.
“I would request
you to change into that,” she said kindly, “one after the other, preferably, in
the male and female change rooms that are on the right and left of the hall,”
she instructed.
Mild giggles were
heard to the ‘one after the other’ comment. Once we had changed into the loose
tees and slacks, she asked us to relax and lean our backs towards the wall.
We did as told.
She raced us
through a whole general list of dos and don’ts and asked us if anyone had spooned
with members of their own sex?”
Four hands went
up.
“That’s nice,”
said the lady in the most artificial manner, “could you describe how you felt
about it.”
“It was uplifting,”
said a woman I didn’t know.
“It made me feel
good,” said a male friend of mine, while the other two men who had raised their
hands were quiet.
“Isn’t doing it
with your own kind a bit odd?” asked a lady brusquely.
“It was closeness
that was being shared after a game of maniacal football,” explained my friend
who had announced that he had felt good about it, “every time we’d return to
our dorm rooms we would be so very hammered that we’d fall asleep clutching
onto each other without even realising it. I don’t think that something like
that has anything to do with sex or sexuality.”
“Exactly,” said
the chap who was quiet until then, “I agree that not everything has to be
sexualised. It is only a way of being at ease around one another.”
“Argh,” said the
lady who had asked the question, “I would not want to be cuddled with anyone of
my own sex. It’s not only gross, it’s unethical, and I am not going to be a
part of this shit.” Saying that she stood up and strode out of the door. With
her followed another gentleman.
There was an
awkward silence that engulfed the hall for a moment, and then the pretty woman
shattered the silence, “So the first rule is no kissing,” she said.
Everyone absorbed
what she had said without any resistance.
“The second rule
is that you do not, and I repeat, you do not forcefully hug somebody. You ask
for their permission before you touch them,” she breathed, and her voice raised
a notch up, “if you think yes,
say yes, if you think no, say no, and if you think maybe, say no. You are here
because you wanted to be here, but for some reason you suddenly feel that you
do not belong here then it is all right to change your mind and leave.”
Everyone
understood what was being said, and honestly, it was too early to know if I was
agreeable or disagreeable to what was going to unfold in the next three hours. Like
me, I reckon the rest of them too seemed to agree, and embraced the newness of
what was to come.
“Clothes stay on
the whole time.”
Everyone agreed.
“Most of you
already know each other, and as for those who are new, do not fear rejection.
People have forgotten the art of touching, or being touched, and there is
nothing sexual about it. It would take you a few minutes to accept the feelings
you shall be feeling when you approach somebody you don’t know, and ask to
touch them or be touched by them. Be easy, be open to feel the new feelings.”
“What if I get a
boner?” asked a friend.
There was a wave
of laughter.
“Then you wait
for it subside without creating a stir about it,” said the pretty woman calmly.
Everyone smiled.
“Could you write
down on the paper before you why you agreed to come here,” she said, “and those
who are comfortable with it, can even read out what they have written to
everybody.”
I wrote that the reason I was there was
because I was awfully annoyed with the double standards that people harboured
about touching. It had nothing to do with sex as we all knew, and yet it was
perceived to be a build up to sex. Also, I was there because unlike the old-fashioned
individuals in the world who saw anything close between people of the same
gender as abnormal needed help, I had no qualms considering how infinitely
secure I was about my sexuality. I finished penning my thoughts and read it out.
Once I was done, another friend read out her reason to be there as well.
At the end of the oration by my friend, my
eyes dropped upon this beautiful young lady who was sitting in front of me. She
had the most attractive, drowning and almost hypnotic eyes. For a moment I
found myself under a spell of sorts. “Are you an illusionist?” I asked no
matter how idiotic it sounded. Come on, a beautiful woman is known to do things
like that to men – make a fool of themselves in the most ridiculously inane
manner.
She giggled, “May
I hug you?” she asked.
Albeit I was
awaiting this most secretly, I found myself unexpectedly shy.
“It’s just a
hug,” she said most gently, sensing my hesitation.
I smiled, and then
we hugged. The sensation that overcame me was indescribable. I remembered somebody
telling me that I was a bit too old for a crush. I don’t think anybody is too
old for anything so long as one retains the purity of a sprightly spirit. A few
seconds into the hugging, I became aware of what any man would have felt – an
erection was on its way. She smiled as her eyes were fixed on my eyes, “I am
known to arouse such a reaction,” she declared flirtatiously sensing it. I
squinted thinking all sorts of things in order to divert my attention. A friend
nearby spotted my boner and whispered a faint ‘horny toad’. The three of us chuckled.
I extricated myself from her cheery clutches and tried to divert my mind as I
looked out of the window at the trees blooming in their reds and purples and
yellows. As I felt my pecker unstiffen, I also thought to myself that as mixed
as I had felt when I had stepped in there, it was an incredible feeling to be
oneself with people of like minds who made no fuss of things that needn’t be
made a fuss about.
Furthermore, such an affair was an
icebreaker in order to overcome the initial inhibitions we had brought onto
ourselves. It was a means to learn to become physical with the people we knew. It
was a fabulous way to gain access to our inner selves, the doors to which we
had closed largely due to pressing pressures and lack of human touch and
interaction. As time elapsed, people became freer and let out grunts of joy
when somebody hugged them tightly. As for me, I felt an unusual feeling of
freedom. I didn’t feel any strangeness amidst any of the strangers present
there. I felt that at the basest level, we each crave such intimacy of touch. And
touching people after this long, and in this uninhibited manner, only cemented
my belief that intimacy was not something that we had to give a tint of
weirdness or sexuality as I had stated earlier.
“Did you realise
that two human beings could be physically intimate without having to have any
amorous involvement?” asked the young woman who had given me the boner.
“Touch has everything
to do with love, and yet this kind of love has nothing to do with sex and how
incredible it is, really.” I said.
The remaining two hours were bliss. I saw
some of them resting their heads on the back of their friends. Some heads were nestled
affectionately in the folded laps. Some couples had spooned. Some were lying next
to each other and bantering about the inconsequential. It was evident that nobody
cared a fuck and that was how one had to live – liberated from public restraints.
Upon my return I could not find any data
to support any study done on my soil for such behaviour amending patterns, but
I did find this article in The Huffington Post by Emily Thomas, the associate
editor, and I am sharing the same.
93
Per Cent Of Straight Men In This Study Said They Have Cuddled With Another Guy
Yes, straight men sleep
together.
That’s
according to a new study out of Britain on the changing social habits of
heterosexual males. Published in the journal of Men and Masculinities in March,
the study revealed that 98 per cent of the study’s participants - all white,
college-age male athletes - have shared a bed with another guy. In addition, 93
per cent also reported having spooned or cuddled with another man.
Study
co-author and sociologist Mark McCormack, of Durham University, says the
study’s results exemplify changing conceptions of masculinity in contemporary
culture. As homophobia decreases, McCormack says, straight men are acting “much
softer” than those from older generations - something he and Eric Anderson, of
the University of Winchester, set out to examine.
“We knew they
[straight males] were hugging and cuddling, and we wanted to understand this
phenomenon in more detail,” McCormack told The Huffington Post in an email.
“How do men gain from rejecting the homophobia of previous generations?”
The two
sociologists conducted in-depth interviews with 40 young male athletes - a
sample they chose because of the group’s likelihood to be in closer physical
contact with one another and because of the notion that athletes embody what it
means to be traditionally masculine. McCormack told Huffington Post he was
surprised by how uneventful and mundane participants viewed their behaviours.
“They don’t
realise this is something that older men would find shocking,” he said. “It’s
older generations that think men cuddling is taboo.”
Matt, one of
the men interviewed for the study, explained his viewpoint on cuddling with his
male friend Connor. The researchers noted the response in their study:
I feel
comfortable with Connor and we spend a lot of time together. I happily rest my
head on Connor’s shoulder when lying on the couch or hold him in bed. But he’s
not the only one. The way I see it, is that we are all very good and close
mates. We have a bromance where we are very comfortable around each other.
The history of
homosocial relationships, or heterosexual male friendships, is deeply complex
and steeped in social stigmas, myth, rejection and aggression, the authors
explain in their research. But stigmas and traditional roles are going out the
window as younger generations are becoming more open and accepting.
“The social
taboo against cuddling has been because for two men to get close was
traditionally seen as ‘gay’. Men wanted to avoid being the target of homophobic
abuse, so they would be macho to distance themselves from any perception of
homosexuality,” McCormack told Huffington Post. “But there is a generational
effect here: Older men who grew up in the 1980s may still feel the need to
present a very straight version of themselves, but more positive attitudes
toward homosexuality in contemporary culture mean that younger men are simply
less concerned about how other people view their behaviours.”
McCormack says
Anderson, who expanded on the study, found similar behaviours across country
lines, though American men were found to engage in those behaviours less
frequently.
“British men
are more advanced than American men in doing this, but these behaviours are
still occurring, and we predict that increasing numbers of American men will
engage in them as they realize the benefits of doing so,” McCormack said.
McCormack
acknowledges that anti-gay sentiment is still around but that many guys don’t
seem to mind expressing themselves however they want.
“Homophobia
hasn’t disappeared, but straight men today are not expected to be homophobic
like they were in the 1980s and 1990s,” he said. “This enables them to be
[engaged] in softer gendered behaviours - they can cuddle and hug, wear
fashionable clothes, care about looking good, and openly declare love for their
friends.”
