In the divine language of love some expression and terms of endearment are never uttered or written but painted skin by breaking the capillary below the surface of the skin. And the final painting is a red patch that serves as an evidence and embarrassment. Such an expression of love are called a “hicky”.
For Indians such an expression of love does exist but seldom revealed or discussed because it is considered a taboo more than embarrassment. When I asked some of my straight colleagues if they knew about hickies they carried a blank look on their face, while the liberated ones (married men and gays) broke into an instant smile and even narrated anecdotes of their first one and how they managed to fool their mothers.
It really doesn’t matter if you are single or married or in a relationship, hickies are embarrassing. In a house where tattoos are considered blasphemy, hickies spelt instant banishment. I landed on a Monday morning from Bangalore and along with my dirty clothes came 2 hickies on either biceps. Should I be arraigned on multiple counts for accommodating them and for ticket less travel to Chennai?
If I were married hickies would mean a fertile conjugal life and nobody would even ask or discuss about it. But my singlehood put me on a jittery wicket and I had to cover up the weekend T20 match filled with bites and hisses apart from regular bats and balls. Facing my mother was like facing those bodyline bowlers.
Are they really lovebites or dynamites? Hickies are like an entourage; they follow you silently but attract attention, raise eyebrows and let audience make instant judgments. Dangerous, huh? If my hickies are spotted at home how can I explain myself at home? I was nervous and at the same time cautious and very thoughtful. Can I fool people that it is bite from a hospital bed bug (a 160 cm tall, 60 kg handsome man with 32 healthy mandibles) or Lyme’s disease? Ha ha…in both arms and at the same place?
I locked myself in the toilet and removed my shirt to examine the size and shade of the hickies, how innocent huh? I was not a spotted Deer or a Leopard, but just a love bitten soul. Reflection in the mirror showed two hickies size of a 50 paisa coin with a deep shade of pink marked by a deep red boundary. How did it happen to me was the kind of look I showcased. I shifted my eyes from the mirror and looked at it directly, it was true and real. I was loved and devoured in a way never before.
To me hickies are symbol of love and represent the passion in the love making process. And darker shade meant more the passion in the love making process. Why would someone paint that on you if he or she is not interested in you both physically and emotionally? Can I flaunt them be vociferous at home. Hell no!
Single men seldom exercise caution before the game, but however prepared you get some
expression of love always lands you in trouble be it on your skin or on your shirt, irrespective of
your status (single or married). All said, seen, and every minute spent on looking at my private
body art reminded me of the intimate moments, unsaid, but expressed love through clenching of
jaws, sucking of skin and lubricating with the saliva and slowly smacking the tongue. Does it
sound delicious or salacious?
I didn’t want the hickies to fetch me other titles though I would rather like people to know that I am single, monogamous happy and live an action packed life. Over the next few days I made frequent trips to the toilet to examine the size and color of the hickies in the mirror. I had no choice but not to parade around the house shirtless or step out of the toilet with just the towel around my waist. And I was doubly wary not to expose my burly biceps at the gym. Looking at the body art at times I reminiscent the culmination of emotions and hormones, but at times it was like watching crescent of Moon wax, when will it fade? There was some pain every time I ran my fingers over them, but I must confess I enjoy it.
