35053668-Empire-of-the-Soul-Paul-William-Roberts

‘THERE’S FAR TOO MUCH MUCK TO RAKE HERE!’
fashion-cum-lifestyle-magazine, directed as much at women as
men. The ‘voyeuristic glimpses’ were certainly that, but there was
no actual nudity. And among the many imported periodicals for
sale, there was still not even a Playboy in sight – no matter that
fifteen different profusely illustrated versions of the Kama Sutra were
boldly displayed, some of them portraying in lavishly detailed colour
prints scenes of sexual congress that often defied belief – and
occasionally gravity.
But India’s sexual equivocation – at least in print – would not last
much longer, I soon learned.
I met Rahul Singh for a drink at the Gymkhana Club – a Raj-era
sporting facility where dowagers now watched teenagers sweat on
the cricket fields, and journalists huddled in the air-conditioned bar.
He tossed me a magazine.
‘Take a look at that,’ he said. ‘It’s the first issue, and I promised I’d
tell the editor what I thought of it. He’ll probably be grateful for
your opinion, too.’
I wonder if he will? I thought, flipping the pages. It was the first
genuine Indian equivalent of Playboy – or at least that was, according
to Rahul, its intention. Bearing the title Fantasy, in bold letters, and
above that the label ‘The Awareness Magazine’, its cover featured
one of those photographs distorted by computer into a cubist mosaic.
Held at a distance, however, the image looked much like a naked
girl bound in gaffer tape giving a hand job to a naked man holding
something like a huge rat or groundhog to his chest. The bottom
right-hand corner featured some eclectic content:
Lee Iacocca
Mulk Raj Anand
Khushwant Singh
David Davidar
Rahul Singh
SEX EDUCATION
Autoeroticism
In an editorial titled ‘Of Dreams, Obsessions, Vision and Fantasy,’
Vicky Bhargava outlined his intentions:
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