Earlier this year, I did a project documenting the stories of people living with HIV AIDS and those most susceptible to HIV AIDS. When I started to read the stories that were documented, I thought I should buy condoms and use them in my illustrations.

Though I have been sexually active for a few years now, I had never bought condoms. Because you know na, the man takes care of protection, etc, etc. He brings the condoms. In my case, in my longest relationship, whenever we ran out of condoms, it was usually replenished by the then boyfriend and if the two of us were together, he would actually stop the autorickshaw a bit away from the medical store (like we were going to engage in some anti-national activity) before he dashed out to get condoms. I never questioned him or even analysed it, I was happy sitting in the rickshaw and to be honest ribbed, dotted, etc, etc made no difference to me as long as it was there. Another revelation, I have never put a condom on any lover because I am restless AF and I am okay being unskilled in this department. So my knowledge is almost minimal when it comes to this sheath-shaped barrier device.

But for this project, I wanted to buy condoms and since I had no past experience, I was a bit nervous. Plus I wanted to buy coloured, ribbed, dotted, the works but I didn’t know how to start this conversation and decided to check with two of my close friends: a German man who has lived in India and an Indian woman who has been married for many years.

German Man: I felt odd when I first bought condoms in India.
Me: Why?
G M: I wondered what people would think of me?!
Me: Dude, you are a white guy. Everyone knows you are a slut, now don’t try to be all pious and pure with us.


Indian woman: I have never bought condoms but I am curious how you are going to ask for colours, etc.

No this was of no use. After dilly dallying I stepped out and went to the medical store. Now this was easy, I asked for the Rex, and he pulled out different coloured boxes, I think I bought 5 different coloured boxes. I didn’t have the time to look properly or ask him any questions because by then a young child walked in. And the man behind the counter quickly put away the condoms.

But Yay! I had bought condoms in my very middle class neighbourhood and I had not died of awkwardness. So once home, I opened all the packets and found out that all of them were white in colour. Fine, maybe I could play with it in Photoshop. So I scanned one. It looked shitty and when I opened my scanner, there was lube all over my scanner bed! Yikes!

Of course, I gave up the idea of using real condoms for my illustration. But hey, I now had 5 packets of condoms, which in my head meant I could have lots of sex. But no such luck. It looked like the dry spell was gonna last forever unless I take things in my own hands.

So I decided to take a pack on a trip to Delhi. In Mumbai, I rarely meet people but in Delhi I am quite social, who knows when it would come in handy. And this was a great way of telling the Universe that I was willing, eager desperate and famished. So I shoved a pack somewhere in my suitcase and left home. Now before Delhi I was going to make a quick work trip to Kashmir and if you have travelled to Kashmir you may know that there are hazaar rules and regulations, they scan your bags umpteen times, ask you to take out every item and inspect it, etc etc. I knew I could just check in my gadgets and had packed accordingly. But at the first check-in which is about a kilometre away from the airport they told me, “Hand luggage allowed hein.” So I went back to the car to repack.

Now till this point I was talking to an old driver from the school. As soon as he found out that I had to repack, he decided to take charge and pack for me. Suddenly he started to open the zips on my suitcase one by one. I was protesting and saying, “Chacha, I will do it. Just chill.” Now while all this was happening I was worried that the condom packet would fall from some part of my bag and he would awkwardly know about this ‘anti-national act’ I was indulging in, rather wanted to indulge in. Thankfully no such thing happened. I could be my pious good teacher self.

One Delhi trip happened and another one happened but the packets of condoms still lie untouched. But as one of my close friends says, “Yaar, our bats will fly out soon.” They will. And I will use all five packets. And more.

Previous