In the eighteenth century, a genie gave a certain Sultan a magic ring which, when rubbed, would force a woman’s private parts to speak, and confess all their indiscretions. In the end, the Sultan’s misuse of the ring led the genie to take it back. Two hundred years later, in Mumbai - just the other day, in fact - the same genie gave the ring to a good woman named Neeta, and told her that it worked just as well on men.”

I burst into laughter when I read this in ‘That’s weird’ section of the newspaper. Vagina monologues? In times of the sultanate? That priggish Sultan must be from the Arabian nights where all these types of woman harassments were the norm. He would have had a heyday. Hey Fatima, so what are we doing tonight? And Fatima’s vagina opens to… not let him in but to say,’ I wish to be writhing in the army chief’s bed!’ The sultan would have roared ‘Take her to the dungeon or shred her….’.I chortled again and googled the ring not even expecting to find anything. But to my surprise there had been a ring like that. Even a picture of it. I peered at the picture, it was sort of ordinary… a large emerald and set with tiny rubies. So feminine. I actually liked the simple setting. But then there would be many like this. In fact I think Mom has one. How would an Aam admi know the difference? I scrolled down and drew a sharp breath as I read “significant feature of the ring was a thumb of the genie’s finger engraved “. Where would that be now I wondered. That wasn’t mentioned. How exciting if I got hold of it , I giggled. I would know the sexual appetite of all the boys/men in my vicinity. OOOOH, I shivered in anticipation and then made a face. As if these things happened. Pah! I turned the pages of the newspaper bored. I got up and looked at myself in the mirror. A tall girl with a freckled face looked back at me. I was big built for my fourteen years. My legs were long and Mum said I could be a model. My figure made me a little self-conscious and not so confident. In fact, I didn’t realise that I was very attractive.

I decided I should check out Mum’s ring. Of course, it would be a shot in the dark but still why not. I tiptoed to her bedroom and looked around. Usually, all her recently used jewellery would be on the dressing table drawer. I pulled one open and ran my fingers over a black chain, a few earrings, and a few rings. My heart plummeted when I saw the said ring. I picked it up and looked at it. Gosh it was an exact replica of the Sultan’s ring. Naaah, if it was the said ring Mum would never leave it lying around that was for sure. I looked at it from all angles, but couldn’t see anything abnormal. I put in on and looked at my finger. It looked nice. Shall I rub it and see if anything happened, I wondered then giggled. Stop being so stupid. OK,where was my magnifying glass? I should search for the thumbs-up. Off I ran to my writing table and focussed the glass on the ring. Up, down, along the sides, on the rim, at the rubies and the large emerald. Nothing. I turned it over and there it was slap in my face. A large thumb. I dropped the ring in shock. Heart thumping I picked it up and dropped it again because my fingers were trembling so much. I peered at it again. Yes, it did look like a thumb but the genie’s thumb? It could well be the insignia of the jeweller. I was thinking of putting it back when an idea struck me. Why not try rubbing it? Heart in my mouth and charged up I took a rubbing cloth and went towards the garden. Who would be my first victim? Victim ….no guinea pig. Ok, I saw our gardener watering the plants. Why not? He must be around fiftyish and quite a jovial character. I waved at him, rubbed the ring, and waited. Nothing happened. But what would happen? Confess all discretions meant what exactly? Disappointed and relieved at the same time, I turned to go and then looked back at Chacha Mali. His lungi had become a tent and his thing stared at me. I hastily looked at him, but he continued watering unaware of his erection. Eyes opened up in his penis and winked at me. “Your boobs make me want to squeeze it” said his now-formed mouth on the penis.” I will one day just you wait” As I kept looking, the erection went down and the eye closed. I sat down suddenly on the bench and felt my boobs. Yes, they had grown but he…….I have known him all my life. I called him Chacha Mali. He wasn’t as senile as he looked. And he definitely did not feel chacha-ish.!.!I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. My eyes felt hot and my ears burned.

Wow, the ring was ‘the ring’ and I could actually know the thoughts of all the guys. Penis peeves? I rubbed her hands in glee and wondered who to target next. As I stood at the door the next door Uncle sauntered by. “ Hi Uncle” I greeted him and inadvertently rubbed the ring. He smiled and came to stand by me. He was a family friend and both the families hung out together on weekends often.I casually looked down and saw the bulge in his trousers. I saw the mischievous eyes open and the mouth form. It made a kissing sound and winked. “Don’t uncle me, if I could get you in my bed”, said the penis, now really large. I stepped back in fright. The ring dropped from my hands. Scared that it had broken I grabbed it and ran inside the house. I fingered it to see if it was intact then ran to my room. I flung myself on the bed and breathed deeply. After some time when my breathing was normal I started to laugh. I was enjoying the penis peeves. And feeling pretty grown up. Well, I was really powerful. My body was. Now I understood why Uncle insisted on hugging me too tight, now I understood his furtive glances at my anatomy. Now I understood what paedophiles were all about. And it also made me aware of the pitfalls to avoid. The ring could be a weapon of sorts, a safety weapon.

I heard the door open and Dad sauntered in. “So Chakkara kutta, ( a malayali endearment) what you up to”?, he asked and blew me a kiss. I jumped up guiltily and ran to him. My island of safety. My haven. He looked surprised at my sudden hug. And then a naughty thought came to me. No, said my head but my mind didn’t listen. I tried not to but my finger rubbed the ring .And waited. My heart in my mouth. He was standing next to my study desk casually turning the pages of my workbook. I tried my best not to look but my eyes were riveted on his crotch. A minute went by, a sweaty minute, my palms were clammy. Another minute went by. Nothing happened. He turned from the desk and asked, “when is Mummy coming home?”And he walked out. I heaved a Laaaaaarrrgggeee sigh of relief and skipped after him.

Later after dinner when all of us were relaxing in the family room, I looked at my parents absolutely obsessed with each other and I looked at my Mum. Was she aware of the power of her ring? Or was she the owner and blissfully unaware? Or did she know and use it to gauge the men in her line of work? I wish I had the answer and I couldn’t ask either. One thing I learnt and that was to be wary of older men. They were the horny ones. Tomorrow I would try the ring on … No, did I really want to know? Wasn’t it better to remain innocent and not see the lust in my favourite people’s mind? I had actually been very fond of Chacha and Peter Uncle. Never had I thought that when Uncle Peter hugged me hard other things also became hard. Never had I thought that Chacha saw me that way. It hurt. I sighed. My halcyon days of trust had blown over. I felt that some things had gone haywire. It had wreaked havoc in my mind. I got up and said good night to my parents and went to my room. The ring was still in my finger. Should I hold on to it or …I read the ‘That’s weird’ section again.

In the eighteenth century, a genie gave a certain Sultan a magic ring which, when rubbed, would force a woman’s private parts to speak, and confess all their indiscretions. In the end, the Sultan’s misuse of the ring led the genie to take it back. Two hundred years later, in Mumbai - just the other day, in fact - the same genie gave the ring to a good woman named Neeta, and told her that it worked just as well on men.”

I gasped. Neeta? that was me. So I was supposed to find the ring and use it judiciously? Oh my God, I was supposed to find it. I stroked it gently and put it back on my finger. I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep. The genie outside the window disappeared in a wisp of smoke...

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