Sex conjures up many images in our minds, but often the medical fraternity sees it in technical terms. Well atleast most of them do. Unlike the quack we stumbled upon.
Me and my photographer (the guinea pig) of the day, stumbled upon too many of these dreary, little parlours, distinctly standing out amidst schools, eateries, traffic signals, paan shops, garment shops and auto stands, with boards screaming ‘SEX’, followed by an insignificant signage,‘doctor’. Being the eager beaver journo, we ventured into one.
In close proximity to the bustling Thiruvanmiyur bus depot, and bang next to a school is a complex that houses food joints and Sekar Clinic. The narrow lane that leads to the clinic is filled with hand-painted arrow marks, reading - ‘SEX PROMBLES’. Yes! you read right, the “doctor” couldn’t spell problems. The signs lead to a wooden door, about 5-feet high covered with bright pink curtains. When we entered there was a burly middle-aged man. We introduced ourselves as a couple with “sex problems.” Dr Sekar, in a shiny shirt and embroidered jeans seemed to nod with almost rehearsed precision.
He then asked me to leave the room, while the “husband” was asked to stay on.
Now as I left the dingy room, my photographer looked nervous but I winked, “Get treated, you will become alright,” almost feeling guilty at calling him my husband. But in public interest I did it. My photographer was then lead into a bright red room fuming with incense. An old, torn, chart of the human digestive hung on the rusted nail of the wall. The doctor then insisted on “checking” all places before offering any “herbal treatment using oils or tablets.” While throughout the twenty minutes that the consultation lasted, my photographer sent me texts asking for “help.” When I finally decided to walk in, there he was in all his petrified glory as Dr.
Sekar dipped his hands into the photographers pocket and “Collecting his consultation fee,” before he waved goodbye with “Only I can help you, any male related sex problems come to me.”