While on the usual business trip to Bengaluru, I was staying in a 5-star hotel. The monsoon had just arrived and so did my adventurous spirit. A 45-year-old man with forgotten sex life is a hunter in the wild forest.
My grandma used to dance with Hijras during marriage celebrations and I was always curious as a child as to what’s so special about them. As I grew older I started seeing videos on YouTube and learnt about transsexuals.
Related reading: I was afraid of them
Bengaluru can be intoxicating with the flow of spirits in the blood. And so it was. I was alone in the evening in the hotel room and tried searching for escorts on Google.
Escort me please
I had never tried an escort service in my life but had one tequila shot of a man-to-man rendezvous. As a school kid when I was teased by classmates for my fair skin and they used to treat me as their wife in school, I had no option but to surrender and jokingly act as an actor to keep the learning atmosphere happy. Being from the middle class and going to a lower class school can have its own advantages, you see.
Back in the hotel, Google offered me ‘TS Escort Service’ as an option. The UK site had its own listing of SheMales in Bengaluru. Out of six listings, I responded to four whose numbers were listed and verified. Most wanted to be contacted over WhatsApp and so it was convenient for me. I’m a man of written words; I don’t speak but vomit on paper and hence the convenience.
Two responded. Out of the two, Cameron Hilton was fascinating, thin and with a more female like personality. The conversation turned into a chat about personal liking in food, travel and life. As I gained his/her confidence by transferring Rs 1000, s/he was open to invite me to his/her place and let me explore something different from my monotonous life.
Spiritual needs not physical
The spiritual voice in me called up and asked me to shut off my physical need. “I am chatting with a human. Why can’t I use his/her story for writing my book instead of exploiting the body?”
I immediately changed the conversation. S/he wanted me to see at 8 PM at 13th Floor, a lounge somewhere near MG Road. The fear of being caught in a sex act with a transsexual prostitute and coming on Page 3 urged me to focus on a story to become a famous author.
The body wanted a physical gratification and mind a logical ejaculation.
The negotiations on WhatsApp went on for a week even after my return from Bengaluru. I evaded him/her by saying that I was back in Mumbai but would be back again in Bengaluru to listen to his/her story and write a novel about it.
Show me the money
S/he was least interested in this. On 1st July as iPhone prices dropped, a demand for funding 50% of a new iPhone popped up in my WhatsApp.
Wow! I’ve heard about word porn but word commerce?
“Damn Atmo, don’t be foolish to spend the money for someone you don’t know, and have never met,” my logical mind told me. “But what if I really get his/her story, I can become a famous author by writing a book on SheMan. Let me use his/her greed for a creative purpose, besides I’m just taking a calculated risk. I may invest some money into this idea but I think it’s worth it.”
“I will transfer you the money for your iPhone, promise me you will share me your story for the novel.”
Tell me your story
“What story? What do you want to know? I will tell you all when we meet, theory as well as practical.”
A thought popped up in my mind. “Theory? Practical? These words sound familiar to me. I always used these words in school and college. Hm….Is S/he another teenager who is trying to please his classmates for having a fair and lovely skin?”
Another message popped up on my WhatsApp messenger.
“Atmo, Ananya’s tuition fee of Rs 25,000 is to be paid by tomorrow. Do you have money in your account?”
You know, my wife is an angel once a while.