Why Being A ‘Happily Married’ Indian Couple Doesn’t Always Mean A Great Sex Life!

It is all about blissful romanticism before marriage. But then our body has desires too, and being happily married also means having those taken care of.

It is all about blissful romanticism before marriage. But then our body has desires too, and being happily married also means having those taken care of.

Suman came running into the room and crashed on the sofa. “Careful, you idiot,” screamed Meera.

“I wanted to share the news with you first. The date for the engagement is scheduled for next week. And in December, the marriage is to happen.” Suman said while breathing hastily.

“Breathe.” Meera gawped at her like an imbecile and offered a glass of cold water to restore her brief respiration.

“What?” wailed Suman. “Is this not what everyone wanted?” She paused in frustration before she ranted, “Everybody around kept telling me, look at Suman. She got married three years ago. Enough of these studies. What are you doing? Settle down! And now you’re not looking happy when things are set as desired. Aren’t you my friend?”

“SAY SOMETHING, will you?”

“I’m happy for you, Suman,” said Meera. “It’s just that things are happening too fast. You hooked up with Naveen a couple of months back. Met him twice. And you’re ready for a life-time commitment? Sure?”

“What do you mean by sure? Look at yourself, you did not meet Siddharth even once before marriage. And did it not turn into a happy marriage?” Raged Suman, showing her displeasure.

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Happily married? What’s that?

Happily married, the most deceptive set of words. Meera’s mouth went dry. How can she forget the day she met Siddharth. It was a quiet engagement  ceremony, in which everyone had praised his personality, job, and family background. She had felt lucky and proud. The numbers were exchanged. They had chatted endlessly and charmed each other in every video call.

Siddharth had possessed all the qualities she had looked for in a man. He was romantic, sensitive, and talked equality. She thought she was falling for him. Wedding bells resonated and they were pronounced husband and wife. She was excited or say terrified, about the first night. They met, talked for a while, and it happened. But what her friends had all said – love making turns into pleasure – did not happen to her.

No pleasure for her, but who cares?

It would take time for him to understand her desires, she comforted herself. But, it never happened. She tried to talk about it by various means. Nevertheless, the topic got pushed under a lack of openness from his side. Did he really not understand? Or it did not matter much to him? His ignorance intrigued her.

Sex remained monotonous to her, and exciting for him. She never had the pleasure of an orgasm, and she began dreading these moments of intimacy.

It started affecting their lives. Fights and arguments ran amok almost every now and then.

Just the day before yesterday, he had tried to woo her with a candlelight dinner and flower banquet. But after coming home, the flames of her desire died midway, as usual. The next day, the towel sat soaking on the edge of the bed. An argument broke out and she did not realise when it got intense enough for her to leave for her hometown, leaving a note behind, “I need a break.”

Think through before you marry

She clenched her jaws together as her eyelashes struggled to push back her tears.

“Meera, are you here? Missing Siddharth already?” Suman smirked lopsidedly at her friend. “Jokes apart, what is up with you? Your cold response to this news, and now this silence. You came unannounced yesterday, is everything alright at your place? Did Siddharth say anything? Fight? Tell me.”

Suman are Meera were childhood friends. They had done their schooling together. Suman wanted to pursue journalism and Meera was interested in English literature. The distance in dreams did not dampen their friendship, and they could still read each other’s silences.

“Suman, I am really happy about your engagement and marriage. You are my only and best friend since childhood. I care about you. That is why I am asking if you are rushing into this. We girls talk about everything, love, life, future, house, child, but…”


Shamefacedly, Meera admitted, “But, we do not talk about sex. We are conditioned not to talk about our sexual compatibility or incompatibility. It is all about blissful romanticism before marriage. But then our body has desires too, and being happily married also means having those taken care of. I have never had any moment of climax in my three years of marriage. And the worst part is, he is either unaware about it, or he simply chooses to ignore it… I do not understand? Imagine what I am going through in this so called relationship where I’m supposed to be happily married!”

Awkward, but…

Suman remained silent for so many minutes. She jumped to hold sobbing Meera. Just then, Meera’s mother walked in with a tray of pakodas and tea. She realised that they wanted to be left alone, and spoke after a pregnant pause, “eat before it is cold.” She left the girls to their tete-a-tete.

They ate in silence. The warmth of tea eased their uneasiness. A dive for the last fritter brought about a dramatic war and Suman declared herself the winner. A faint smile finally lighted up Meera’s face. Suman attempted to be coy in the silence, “never a climax, aaahhh…”

Meera laughed hysterically, followed by Suman, till their stomachs twitched in pain, pleading each other to stop.

“Why did not you talk to Siddharth about it?” Suman enquired as they ceased to laugh.

“I feel awkward, or maybe shy as you say.”

“Talk to him. Tell him how you feel and how much it hurts.”

The sunny afternoon turned into an orange twilight as the conversation deepened. Meera was already framing the dialogues she needed to have with Siddharth at the back of her mind. And Suman was smiling naughtily while texting her fiancée.

It is better late than never.

Image source: a still from the series Lust Stories

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About the Author

Shilpee Prasad

A space tech lover, engineer, researcher, an advocate of equal rights, homemaker, mother, blogger, writer and an avid reader. I write to acknowledge my feelings. read more...

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