Awaening of Yoni (vulva)

Synopsis

A dutiful housewife, Anita feels emotionally cut off and sexually unsatisfied as intimacy in her marriage has turned into a mundane chore. Her lively friend Priti tells her about Rudra, a Tantrik guru who guides women to reclaim their sexual identities without guilt by listening rather than preaching.

Initially doubtful, Anita finally consents to see him; after a succession of intensely personal, non-physical sessions, she loses her reservations. Reconnecting with her body and wants helps her to create a new feeling of confidence, pleasure, and emotional closeness. Anita's quest for self-discovery changes her and revitalizes her marriage, enabling her to welcome love and desire free of guilt.

Now story starts.

Whisper of Yoni

"You know, you need to start listening to your Yoni instead of your to-do list."

Anita nearly choked on her chai, stunned at how casually Priti used that word.

"Priti, God! You're saying that word like it's about to give you an orgasm!"

Priti laughed loudly and reclined on the couch in her silky kaftan.

"May be or may not be.

Come on, Anita, Yoni, not a bad word."

"The word has spiritual significance and symbolizes feminine energy; it is the source of creation. It is your power, existence, and gateway to the universe."

"It is my what?? " Anita widened her eyes as she wiped her lips with the edge of her dupatta.

"Priti, It is not my Milky Way, but simply my vagina."

"Exactly! You have a whole galaxy between your legs and have locked it up like a storage unit."

Anita rolled her eyes, already regretting this conversation.

" Your pseudo-spiritual porn is not to be started again, not this time at least.

"Sweetheart, you're never in the mood. That is the problem."

Anita hesitated for a moment.

Setting her cup down, she looked at the sunlight pouring through the drapes. Priti had always been outrageous--her lipstick too red, her ideas too loud--but she had a gift of seeing straight through others.

Anita replied, "All right." I'm worn out. Indeed, sex has become... a duty, a responsibility. Like folding garments or boiling rice."

"Boiling rice would be more satisfying. At least it turns soft and steamy--and knows how to rise when it should."

Priti said miscellaneously.

"You are disgusting",

Anita shot back.

Anita laughed despite her difference of opinion.

"You are suppressed. When was the last time you wanted it? Not out of guilt...Not from obligation. But more like raw, wet, throbbing need? "

Anita remained silent, and her silence was really loud. Priti's voice grew softer as she bent forward.

"Honestly, I'm not judging. You have a nice husband, a lovely kid, and a settled life. But despite all these, you have shut yourself off. You have lost the pleasure of being touched--not just physically but also Sensually."

Anita winced.

"Don't get all Deepak Chopra on me. And don't say 'yoni' again. It sounds like a promotion for a tantric scam."

Priti grinned. " Ah yes, the holy phrase triggering the good housewife. What makes you hate it so much?"

Anita shot back, "Because it brings back memories of sleazy godmen rubbing oil on women. Every time someone says 'tantrik,' I imagine a half-naked sleazy elderly man with ash on his body trying to fool some desperate childless women".

Priti chuckled.

"That's specific. Did one of them chase you in a dream?

Anita became red.

"No yet. But I have read enough news to know how that ends.

"The one I know wears clean cotton, deep knowledge of psychology."

Priti said, suddenly more serious, "He's not a baba. He is a guide, a mentor, a genuine tantrik. He doesn't chant mantras in your cleavage. He just listens, he observes, he helps you to unlock...."

Anita chuckled scornfully.

"Unlock what? My inner slut?

Priti raised an eyebrow.

"Why not? His experience has been years of solitary confinement and Tapasya. He knows our body better than we know. "

Anita began to answer then stopped. She knew it was better to keep deep inside.

Yogesh, her husband is a decent fellow.....Gentle.....Reliable. Yet he never pushed, demanded, or explored. Their sex had become a checklist: fast, quiet, and careful.

She said quietly, "Even when we had sex, it's like..." I have to do something. Moan at the right time. Pretend I am going through something. Half the time, I'm thinking about what to make for breakfast. "

Priti shook her head in astonishment. "It means your Yoni deserves more. You merit more."

There it was again--that word. This time, it was painless. It was a tingle.

"You want me to go to some sex therapist, baba, and bare my soul. Maybe my boobs as well?

He won't touch you--unless you ask. And trust me, if you do, it won't be a mistake. You'll know." Priti said, her voice turning mischievous.

Anita looked at the rose plant in the balcony corner. The red blooms were completely open and unapologetically bright--unlike her.

"Priti, I don't know. It just seems wrong."

"What appears to be more wrong?" Priti asked, her voice surprisingly soft.

"Meeting someone who could help you get up... or spending the next ten years pretending you don't miss the fire?"

Anita swallowed. Her chest hurt. She hated how close Priti had hit.

Priti said, "Just meet him once. You don't have to do anything. No chanting, no orgasms. Just a conversation. You leave should you feel odd. But I have a sense that you will stay once you hear his voice. "

Anita wanted to end the conversation and she stood up, grabbing her dupatta with exaggerated grace.

"Alright, Priti. If I ever feel the desperate need to sit cross-legged in front of some hot baba while he chants 'yoni' and stares deep into my... Galaxy I'll make sure to book it through you."

She smirked, pausing at the door.

"And don't get too excited--if I do go, it'll be purely academic. Like a cultural field trip. Not a vagina pilgrimage."

Priti laughed so hard, she nearly spilled her tea.

When Desire Went Silent

Just after their marriage, Anita and Yogesh were a happy couple and had been in each other's world. They would giggle about ridiculous things only they understood, kiss in the kitchen while pretending to cook, and speak until the clock forgot to tick.

They were close buddies, and indeed, they were madly in love. Yogesh was nice to her, always gentle and patient.

He never shouted, even when the rage was in his eyes. He was the sort of husband other women talked about enviously. A caring husband. A responsible father.

But at some point, something changed. It might have begun with the birth of first child.

Anita's physique changed--softer in some areas, heavier in others. But it was not only her body. It was her thinking. She ceased to view herself as a lady. She became the only house manager, caretaker, and mother.

At night, when Yogesh touched her, his fingers would move toward her panty; she would shift just enough to make it clear she wasn't in the mood.

And sometimes, out of guilt, when she allowed him to go on, she took care to moan at the appropriate moment.

She murmured lovely things. But she was somewhere else in her head--considering the leaky faucet, grocery lists, and expenses.

She didn't despise Yogesh. In a sense, she still loved him. Deep down, she understood it wasn't his fault. It was the lesson she had been taught since childhood: It was her upbringing.

She believed that sex was an obligation for having children, not for enjoyment.

Decent wives didn't behave that way.

Once, partly smiling and half exhausted, she had even mocked him.

"Yogesh, once more? You sound like a horny teen. "

He grinned, but she noticed that spark of pain then.

He wasn't wrong to desire her. After all, she was his wife.

She was the one who had gone cold within. Her body wasn't the only thing that had gone numb. It was her yoni--that hidden term Priti had playfully whispered to her before.

"Anita, he is not a baba. He is a guide. He makes you feel your body once more."

Back then, Anita had chuckled it off. Priti's crazy ideas once more. But recently, yoni kept coming to her head like a restless bird. It used to bother her. Now, oddly, it piqued her interest. Perhaps even slightly optimistic.

One day, while she was stirring daal at the sink, the idea came to her: What if the tantrik guru could understand her and unblock some of the shame and numbness that had taken over her?

Then, perhaps she can enjoy sex not for her duties but for her enjoyment. After all, Yogesh deserved a wife who looked affectionate and hungry.

Her hand grazed her waist. She stopped there, fingers hanging.

When was the last time she had gently touched herself? When was the last time she had paid attention to her body?

Perhaps she had not let Yogesh down. Maybe she had let herself down. With her heart racing in her chest, she washed her hands, picked up her phone, and called.

Priti answered, voice dripping with mischief; the phone barely rang once.

"Oh, ho! Finally, your yoni spoke."

Anita moaned in irritation. "Priti, leave it. I already regret calling you."

"Which part?" Priti sneered, voice wicked. " Calling me... or waking up your poor, neglected yoni from dormant state?"

"Priti! " Anita laughed, protesting against herself.

"At least you are finally battling your sanskaari aunty within your thoughts",

Priti said.

Anita laughed, "She is still screaming within. Still, I thought about what you said. Maybe seeing your Tantrik would help."

"You admit it then. I was right."

Anita warned, "Don't get too excited. In my view, you are still crazy. But... I will definitely attempt if seeing that tantrik can bring me back to life."

Priti's voice softened and lost its sarcastic tone. "You will," she said. "You will be more alive than you can imagine."

Anita's hold on the phone became tighter. "Some women," Priti said, almost whispering, "feel like they've been reaching toward climax.....without even being touched."

Anita raised an eyebrow. "Are you giving me a vibrator or a guru?"

Priti laughed, "I will give you a mirror. It may make you wet.... with reality."

"You're corrupting my sanskara."

Priti now whispered, "I'm not corrupting anything. Your sanskaar is being unlocked a bit."

Anita cleared her throat and said,

" Don't expect much. I only decided to visit him. "

Priti said softly, "That's much. You will be seated. You will talk. He'll say 'yoni,' and you'll wince... but something inside you will shift. "

Anita smiled, "If he look at my chest and say 'yoni,' I will chappal him.

"Then put on hot chappals," Priti said. 'Yoni' will come in first five minutes; see, he won't think of you as a mother or a wife. He will see you as Yoni itself."

He said after a pause.

"Believe me, you won't be offended; trust me, you will... see the truth."

Anita narrowed her eyes. "You sound like you slept with him."

Priti laughed, but there was a softness behind it. "Not in the least. I just wished I had... "

There was a pause--a memory. Priti said, "He never touched me. He just asked... deep ones. Questions no man ever bothered to ask. He examined me so closely even my hubby hasn't.

Priti said softly, "After that I went home." I cried. Months had passed since I last touched myself without guilt."

Anita smiled faintly. "Sounds like he's a smart manipulator. A man who can move into your undergarments without touching you."

Priti's voice grew almost reverent.

"Maybe a guy who can touch your soul without actually touching you."