A-Z of Emotions : G for Gullible

Nilabjo (nee-laab-jo)
4 min readJan 15, 2018

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I am not a dumbass. While I am not the sharpest tool in the shed or the brightest bulb or a sandwich short of a picnic or one of those numerous ‘not that smart’ analogies, I still possess some common sense. Yet, there is one memorable example where the gullible me believed a lie and was stunned when I discovered the truth.

By now, you should know that I grew up in India in the 90s. (If you don’t, GO READ the other posts!) Culturally speaking, 90s India was fairly prude. Kissing scenes in Bollywood movies were considered edgy, and sex was not a topic of conversation, certainly not in Hindu households. There was no sex-ed in schools and parents didn’t give the ‘the birds and the bees’ talk. They assumed that the kids would figure it out when they got married. So, just imagine the shock and helplessness on my parents’ faces when I asked them the dreaded question:

“Where do babies come from?”

They had no idea what to do. I hadn’t just thrown them a serious curveball. They were reacting as if I had just poured a bucket of ice-cold water on them while they were sleeping.

“Umm, beta (Hindi for ‘son’), that is a good question”, my dad stalled for time while my mom was trying to quickly think of an acceptable answer.

“A man and a woman get married, like we did”, my mom began her response. “When they are ready to have a baby, they pray to Lord Brahma , the creator in the Hindu universe. We both prayed every day for you”. I was soaking it in. This was exciting new information for a 5 year old.

“Then, one day, when Lord Brahma decides you are ready,” my dad chimed in, “He tells you when a baby is on the wa…”.

“On the way from where?”, I was asking the hardball questions.

“On the way from heaven, where the Gods live”.

“How do the babies get here?”

“You are asking too many questions..”, my mom was getting agitated.

“Lord Brahma gives the babies,” my dad said in his calming voice, “to these birds with large beaks called storks. They bring the babies to people’s houses in 9 months. Understand?”

I nodded with naive excitement! This was incredible information. I had no idea what to do with this gold that I had just uncovered. I kept visualizing my journey of travelling from the heavens, through all the clouds, in the beak of a stork for 9 months! I was born a heavy baby, so it must have been difficult for that stork. Poor bird!

Fast forward to 2003 in Toronto. I am 14 and in Grade 9. Until this point in my life, when it came to the origin of babies, I was still a believer of ‘the prayer and the storks’ story. I was in ‘health’ class aka sexual education. I was already pretty uncomfortable learning about the vagina and the penis and talk of the train going through the tunnel. Ew!

We also learnt how to put on a condom using a banana. Thanks to sex-ed, I had to quit eating bananas till my 20s. Then, we were going to watch a movie called ‘The Miracle of Life’. I had no idea what to expect, but I had heard it was pretty nasty. The movie began depicting the reproductive process.

‘Wait.. why aren’t the parents praying?’

The movie continued to show the science behind the conception of the baby. My jaw dropped. I was in shock. My world had turned completely upside down. And then, there was the finale. Watch it at your own risk.

I remember there was a pregnant woman screaming. She must have been in a lot of pain. People around her were encouraging her to push. Her screams kept getting louder. Then, the camera moved down and a baby exploded out of her vagina.

I had to throw up. I got up and ran straight for the bathroom. I tried to throw up, but nothing came out. I was shaking. This was all information that totally went against the lie that my parents had fed me as a child. Why couldn’t they have told me the truth later? I began questioning everything they ever told me. Are there couches in the womens’ bathroom? Is the ice cream truck really out of icecream when it plays the music? Would I get strong like Popeye if I ate my spinach?

I didn’t know what to believe anymore.

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Nilabjo (nee-laab-jo)

Unashamed love for 90s boybands. I am also trying to make ‘cool beans’ and ‘awesomesauce’ cool again. Writing is my catharsis.