After school, Suresh and I planned to head to the New Olympia cinema, thrilled about our foray into the world of adult-only movies. “Blow Hot Blow Cold”, an erotic movie, boys in school raved about, playing in Colombo, would be my first adult movie. Excited to the bone, Suresh and I could not wait until the school bell rang. We rushed out of school, taking a bus to the cinema on Route 176.
Our hearts were pumping. Welcome to the world of adults. Exciting.
We waited patiently in a ticket queue at the cinema among rows of impatient young men. We were the only schoolboys in shorts in that throng of a crowd facing the harsh sun. We tried hard to conceal our school bags. We wished we were older and taller. I looked around to see if any adults from my hometown were around because going to an adults-only movie was a secret mission, done hush-hush.
The queue slowly moved towards the ticket counter, among the pushing from behind. When it was our turn at the ticket counter, Suresh stepped forward confidently, handing over the money for two movie tickets. But the ticket attendant hesitated and peered over the tiny window, shaking his head and refusing to issue the tickets. We were too young, he said and should go home.
Our plan was disintegrating, and I felt a deep sense of disappointment. We would be the laughing stock among our friends if we failed to boast about our first-hand account of “Blow Hot Blow Cold.” I ducked under the counter, hoping to avoid attention, but the attendant caught sight of me. “No, you boys are too young,” he repeated sternly. “No issuing tickets to schoolboys; you should go home.”
But Suresh was not about to give up so easily. He negotiated with the attendant with pleading eyes, begging him to let us in. And to my surprise, he succeeded. The attendant agreed to let us in, but on one condition: we could not sit together. He did not want to draw attention to two underage boys in a world of adults. Suresh readily agreed. Welcome to the art of negotiations from a young age.
Honouring the deal with the ticket attendant, Suresh and I split up, entering the cinema hall from separate doors as if we did not know each other. I found a seat and sat down to watch this movie that everybody in my school talked about.
As the lights dimmed and the movie began, my heart was excitedly pounding. I was captivated by the youthful actors Giuliano Gemma and Rosemary Dexter. I was fascinated to see the pair making love so naturally and effortlessly. I was absorbed by their frolicking in the open — their natural nudity. I wanted to be like Giuliano Gemma. I wished I were him, a handsome heartthrob. Then that Rosemary Dexter, the female beauty with rose-coloured skin. My imagination ran riot.
It was weird watching a movie alone among a much older crowd. But I was lucky to be here. I could not see where Suresh was. I did not worry; instead, I focused on the movie. I wanted to remember every second of the film and relive the scenes, especially the love-making ones. I wanted to go back to my friends and brag.
I was careful not to draw attention. I felt like an imposter, an outsider, trying to blend in. I didn’t even dare to leave my seat, afraid I might get caught. At the interval, it was pee time. But I could not take a chance among the crowd, in case I got noticed. So instead, I held on tightly to my seat.
When the movie finished, I was somewhat disappointed. But I did not want it to end. But, the mission was accomplished. Thank you, Suresh.
He and I met near the cinema’s main entrance. Patrons exiting the cinema looked at us and wondered how we got in. I did not care what they thought. I was on the seventh moon — my shirt smelled of smoke from the smokers inside the movie hall.
We had to get home before our parents suspected what we had been up to.
Suresh and I went our separate ways. I walked to the Kiribathgoda bus stand and boarded a bus home, a red double-decker on route 132, showing the bus conductor my student discount pass. I climbed to the upper deck and concealed my bulge with my school bag.
The next day, I was a proud boy in school. I was in the world of adult fantasies.
The movie ran for many months at the New Olympia. I was so fascinated with Blow Hot Blow Cold that I watched it repeatedly with other classmates, Cecil and Mahes. But, having learnt a lesson at the ticket counter, I wore long pants, deflecting attention.
Where are the characters of this story today?
Suresh and I reconnected about a decade ago in Colombo, meeting him several times. Unfortunately, he passed away from a brief illness in 2022, leaving behind a son and a daughter.
Cecil lives in Houston, while Mahes lives in Colombo.
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