Bloody Unspeakable

"What’d you bring for me?"

He rummaged through her bag and finally felt something squishy-sounding. His face lit up.

“Biscuit!”  He squealed. “Can I have some?”

“You can’t have that!” She gasped. “It’s not biscuit or anything you can eat. It’s something that does not concern you. You shouldn't even be going through my bag. That’s disrespectful, you know.” She was so embarrassed. She snatched the pack away from him and thrust it in her bag. She pushed it so hard that her nails scratched the bottom of the handbag. It brought back memories of whenever she had to go to the drug store to buy some sanitary pad. She always felt ashamed especially when the seller was a young man. She wondered if they imagined her wearing it in her bathroom. What she’d give to know what really they thought. She was taught that this was an embarrassing topic that should never be openly discussed.

How despicable, unspeakable and utterly disgusting is the topic of menstruation that not even one period of class was dedicated to it. And in the few schools where students were privileged to be lectured on it, they would separate the boys from the girls and only God knows what the boys were told. Did they show them how to wear a condom? Well, no wonder even adults got excited on hearing words like penis or vagina. It was oddly disturbing that no one was willing to talk about it. The adults just assumed that you would know when you needed to know and that was ideally after marriage.

“How ironic!” She thought.

This incident did not bother her as much as how people generally reacted when they somehow found out she was on her period. She remembered a friend of hers bugging her about what was going on with her. He was genuinely concerned about her well-being or so she thought. When she finally mustered the courage to tell him, she immediately regretted it.

“Did you have to tell me that? I was just enjoying some tea. Now the appetite is all gone.”

“Well, I didn't think you’d take it this way. How was I to know you’d overreact this way?”

And then the conversation went dour. She probably wouldn't have been that calm if the gentleman was there in person. “Lucky guy.” She thought.

And then the worst of them all was the one who asked if it came like running water from a faucet. Her mouth was agape for a few seconds. If it worked that way all women would be confined to their “menstrual beds” for the whole period, never mind some were already in that situation what with all the pain.

How could she blame them when society frowned on sex education? It was assumed that they would learn all about it in their marital beds. Even in school when the topic of reproduction was taught, the teacher would use rather say “male reproductive organ” and “female reproductive organ” for the penis and the vagina respectively. It was almost as if that was less filthy than saying “penis” or “vagina”. If the teacher could not say such “sacred” words, how would anyone ever muster the courage to say them out loud? The only places that welcomed the indiscriminate use of these taboo words were rascally halls of residence in the university. Their gall amazed her. They produced parodies of contemporary gospel songs that required an unsparing use of the “P” and “V” words.