Perverted or Repressed or Plain Psycho?

If you've lived in Sri Lanka long enough, there's a very likely chance that you/ a girl you know has been "eve-teased" - either groped on the bus/ in a crowd, or at the very least have had a few well-chosen words/ remarks aimed at you/ her as you/ she walked past a group of men. (This though is not just in Sri Lanka, but common in the sub-continent.)

Anyway, sometimes you get told by adults to "dress properly" (=conservatively) to avoid such harassment. This has no real grounds though since even older sari-clad women complain of being masturbated on/ rubbed against on the bus. Why is this? Because men here are generally perverts who get a kick out of harrssing women/ girls? Or are men here so repressed that this is their only "outlet" so to speak (no pun intended!)??

Ravana kept asking in this post, are men here really so repressed cos "why are all these men so excited by the tame sight of [the] dancer’s cleavage?" No one really gave a very satisfactory answer to that. And I continue to wonder, these kind of men - are they perverts? Or "the repressed"? Which category does this guy (that I'll tell you about in a sec) slide in to since he wasn't bothering a girl dressed "provocatively"? Was he neither your general pervert or repressed but simply a random psycho?

Last evening, a friend and I went for a play - an adaptation of Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet directed by William Scott Richards. It was held at the Hilton Garden - a very nice setting had it not been for the terrible (and cold) winds, the blast of vehicles on the road outside and the at least 10-minute long ringing of the temple bell from the Gangaramaya (I assume?) in the middle of the performance. Nevertheless, the performance was fantastic - I really loved the alternative uses of symbolism, clothes and lighting. Ironically, before I left home, as usual, the dad threw a mini-fit about "it's not safe to go all alone" for which I retorted "it's at a 5-star hotel for God's sake!". He replied, the hotel bit he was fine with, it's the getting there he worried about. He finally drove me there. I collected my ticket at the counter and they asked for my ID to verify that I am indeed the manshark (as the ticket said)..before I proceeded to join my friend who was already sitting inside.

What happened during the performance was shocking - and that is a gross understatement. In the ball scene, the actors broke out in dance to a fast song. The cast was very young and the dancing very “modern” - what you'd find at a club. Within these youngsters, there was a man dancing - extremely vulgar moves, thrusting his pelvis forward, gyrating. He stood out (even if it were not for his disgusting dancing) cos he was in a white t-shirt emblazoned "Oregon" in red and brown pants with brown (very, very shiny) dress shoes - and, without meaning to sound elitist, he just didn't seem to be part of the audience and looked more like a 'helper' - with the equipment, etc). The cast was in jeans, runners and white t-shirts which had quotes from the play written on them, unlike the oregon dude. Anyhow, the dancing over, the play continued. The Oregon dude sat at the edge of a stage (there were 3 positioned at 45 degree angles to each other) very near a 14 /15 year old foreign boy (British, I think) who was sitting in the row in front of me. He then proceeded to slip his arm around the back of the chair, lean in towards the boy and mutter things to him, staring intently at the boy’s face the whole time. He honestly looked scary - his eyes wild, his head bent, chin tucked into his neck, the eyes rolling around "peeking" at other people every few minutes. Perveted or freaky? The boy mostly ignored him, except to swallow hard a couple of times and move his neck forward when the hand touched him . There was a Chinese mother and son (a 3/4 year old) sitting beside me, and at one point, when the mom sat the boy down next to me and went off for a few minutes, the kid promptly jumped up and was running about. When he accidently knocked into this psycho’s knee, he grabbed the boy by the neck of his t-shirt, brought his face close to the boy’s face, his mouth in a kind of leer and for a second I seriously thought he was going to take a bite, I swear. I grabbed the kid's hand and pulled till he landed in the chair next to me again and I whispered "sit here till your mother comes back" as fiercely as I knew how and held on to him till the mother came back. More perverted or freakier?

The play ended half hour or so later, and the last scene was (an alternative addition after the death scene) was once again of the cast dancing to a fast tempo. Psycho dude jumped up and began the gyrating, staring at the British boy, 3 feet away from him. And as the music started tapering off, he walked up to the boy, lifted his Oregon t-shirt, thrust his pelvis in the boy’s face and gyrated, leering. The boy looked terrified till his mother (sitting beside him) punched the psycho in the stomach, to which he leered at her before joining the cast to watch them (the cast) hug each other, etc off stage. The boy's mother was almost in tears. And the worst thing was, no one seemed to have noticed, not even my friend (sitting beside me!) till that last dance. Perhaps cos the play involved the audience quite a bit (they pulled a few front-row-seaters into dance with the cast as well, etc), perhaps they thought this was part of the play? But seriously? And who could that boy complain to? The play director? The cast? The hotel? I honestly had no idea and it was frustrating that it seemed there was nothing to do. The mother turned around, her face red and teary and said "that man was bothering my son all night! Who can I talk to?!?". I asked her to try both the cast and the hotel management. The only thing I did was leave my name and number with her in case they got treated with the usual "but it's your word against his" quip if they did choose to complain, and needed a witness.

And this made me realize that, in reality, maybe not even 5-star hotels are actually safe since this psycho made it in. And I wondered, was this a stalker/ hotel employee who'd had that boy in his sights for some reason (far-fetched but possible)? Although if that was the case, wouldn't the mom/ boy have "known" him at least by sight? And why did they not complain in the middle of the play? I suspect they didn't want to make a scene and figured if they ignored him long enough, he'd go away.

Or was this a random pervert who made it in with a valid ticket, or otherwise? Was this “a repressed” whose only outlet for his gay tendencies (but perverted anyway since normal gay guys don't gyrate at random people) was to show up here? Or a random paedophile? What was going on and more importantly, what could that boy have done? Hit him? Have complained in the middle of the play? If so, then to whom since there weren't any hotel employees around and it seemed there were only the cast (who did the lighting and the moving of equipment themselves) and the audience? Or ignored him (as was done till the last scene) and endured the groping and muttering? My own behaviour disgusted me then and continues to disgust me now since all I did was to observe this whole fiasco and only get angrier and scared-er and ended up only offering to be "a witness" for them, before choosing to walk away. Couldn't I have done more? Complained myself (after or in the middle of the play)?

I guess these will only be abstract questions now that it's all over and done with. But I must say, selfishly I guess, next time I go out - no matter where - I'll take my dad's advice and have a safety net. Perhaps lots of friends around in case there are more of these perverts/ repressed/ psychos around and next time, the crime goes further and the victim turns out to be me.

Update

Apparently this psycho is a part of neither the crew nor the cast of the play as assured by Benvoleo ( a member of the cast) who had left a comment here and also by another cast member which Sach very kindly shared with me thru e-mail.

Living for the moment

We always look for an end, a goal, a conclusion that sometimes the means to that end is forgotten, and perhaps left unenjoyed. But what if there was no end? Would we enjoy the traveling more? Would we still be as enthusiastic about every step, every skip, every tumble?

Sometimes when we meet someone, we look, even unconsciously, for a conclusion. A conclusion in the form of a good business deal, a special favour, a perfect friendship, the soulmate. When we meet people, or are catapulted in to situations, then that initially imagined goal becomes a series of stepping stones – profit, happy relationships, growing old together while the gold bands on each other’s fingers slowly grow dull with time. But if that end could not be, does it make the path any more rugged? Does it make the traveling any less sweeter? Isn’t it by looking for that almost ready-made conclusion that the sweet is embittered? When the conclusion is not as glossy as it seemed in the catalogue in which we’d imagined it?

What if we were a spider web - the middle enclosure, where we stand, and the strands, the arms we unravel outwards to the world? For all those bugs and beetles scurrying along the wall, those strands lead in to an interesting, unknown centre..along strands some might slide along with gleeful weee!s while others may find them sticky and cumbersome, and exhale their final breath never really having reached the centre.

Yet to us, those who stand in the middle of that web, the strands don’t necessarily lead anywhere. Could it not be that they lead nowhere, but only exist to balance that inner circle more firmly? Then is it realistic to expect each strand to leave us with explosions of realization which, even for a moment, reach grand unexplored epiphanies? But if that explosion, that epiphany was not actively searched out but left to surprise us if be, would we be as happy? For isn’t happiness found in our minds, in our hearts, only when we imagine that explosion and see the beauty of rainbow sparks? Isn’t it the fact that those sparks never exist outside the realm of our minds that leaves us disappointed with people and situations we might have otherwise found perfectly acceptable?

And so if that final goal which we found in the catalogue of our imagination was not looked for, would we not pay closer attention to the strand stretching outward? Appreciate the gentle diamond glisten of dew drops that balance minutely defying gravity? Realize, before it’s too late, the dust which had begun to accumulate along that fine thread till it was a heavy rope which we lugged around unknowingly or complainingly, had silently snapped long ago?

They say that life is a dew drop balanced on the edge of a grass blade. We’ve all lost someone, by distance, by death, by a sudden cool breeze, in the blink of an eye to know that this goes undoubted. One wayward breeze, one careless footstep and that drop of heavenly water ceases to live.

Then in that infinitesimal moment, between balancing on the tip of the blade of grass and being greedily drunk in by the thirsting earth, should we not endeavour to enjoy every diamond, no matter how small, that lies perched on the strands we unravel outward rather than crane our necks, bending over backwards, in the hope of an end that might very well have ultimately been only imagined or presumed?

URGENT pet rescue needed..PLZ, plz help!!

A kitten is stuck inside a 10 foot PVC pipe. It's a vertical pipe that has a deadend and runs through a cement wall, hence can't be got at from the bottom opening. We've already tried letting down a length of cloth hoping it'll clutch at it and climb up or at least get a grip on it so we cna pull it up. So far, no luck..I think it's too young to know what to do!! :(

If anyone knows anyone who does pet rescue stuff who can help..or has any advice about how to get this little guy out..plz leave a comment on this with a contact number..or e-mail me at manshark@gmail.com and leave a msg.

It's urgent since the kitten would very likely die if left over night :'( PLZ help!!

Update (at 8.30pm)

Thanks to the heaps of people who e-mailed and the couple who left comments here with advise..esp the Anon who had some very ingenious rescue ideas! :oD

Kitten was rescued and is safe, sound, traumatised and asleep. Went through Al Juhara's blog archives searching for pet rescue team info..and finally this page led me to this Padma lady who very nicely put me in touch with another lady who called the pet rescue dudes..they showed up in 15 minutes - two dudes: one a creative rescue man and the other a vet surgeon (for care after rescue) and in less than 20 mins the kitten was out! Very, very impressive!! :o)

If anyone needs pet rescuing, shall post their info below for future reference!

PetVet Clinic and Emergency

2599799/ 2599800 and Emergency no.: 0777738838

Clinic at: 421/5 Malalasekera Mw (aka Longden Place, I think), Col 07.

Scary checkpoint - why?!?

We’ve been told check points exist for our own safety and I’ve so far accepted that without a second thought. When my car was stopped in the past, they asked for my ID and then I was sent on my way. I don’t know if this has changed because the other day the process was longer and, moreover, scary.

I was on the way home along Galle Road and a bit past Barefoot I was stopped at a checkpoint. I was asked to park the car and walk up to the sheltered box-like structure under which an army guy and 2 police officers stood. I handed over my ID and was asked for the license as well. One police officer came out of the boxlike structure and stood closely beside me while the other officer proceeded to write down my name, address and what not in some sort of ledger. The officer beside me studied the license closely commenting on the license photo as compared to how I look now. After this thorough examination of the ID and license I was asked to sign beside my name in that ledger.

I thought it was quite strange that we’re now asked to sign ledgers and thereby have to get out of the vehicle. My dad said, sometimes they search the car (including under the driver’s seat) and hence asks the driver to get out…but in my case, the car was glanced at once (to write down the license plate number) and that was it.

The issue I have is the fact that I, a girl (a very tiny one at that), needed to leave the relative safety of my car to walk to a box like structure manned by 3 men. Unfortunately, when you've been forced to see the ugly animal-istic side of the male species, even a man who stands too close to me in the supermarket queue quite honestly makes me call upon all my will power to stay standing while every cell in my brain screams to run fast in the other direction. Therefore, that day at that checkpoint, I was so scared, when I signed that ledger I couldn’t remember for the life of me what my signature looked like and ended up printing my name in a very child-like scrawl. And on the way home as soon as the checkpoint disappeared from my rear-view mirror, I needed to pull up and calm myself down.

While I admit my own reaction at the time may have not been normal altogether, isn’t there still something inherently unsafe about one girl having to approach three men standing in a alcove-like place? The idea is that they are there for my security, for my safety, but at the end of the day, while they are members of security forces, they are also men. And they are people almost twice my size. And I, unfortunately, cannot live in a bubble-like make believe world where people ideally never hurt each other. They do. People known to you, that you trust for whatever whacky reasons, can turn around and in one second leave the rest of your life nightmare-riddled. And that day, I felt extremely vulnerable standing before these three men while they looked me up and down and studied my ID.

Maybe I don't know enough about security matters and counter-terrorism measures, but is there really no better way to provide us with security without heightening our sense of personal insecurity?