Masculine Logic

Women on Top: How Real Life Has Changed Women’s Sexual Fantasies (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

Being in a close relationship brings you insights aplenty. Your brain certainly works overtime and some of those times, you stumble onto enlightening bits of wisdom (even if they are *hic* alcohol-soaked).

Here’s something I thought last week – the sex ratio is skewed in favour of men, in most parts of the world. Men are considered more libidinous so their need for sexual contact is greater than women. With more men competing for less women and with their need to associate and copulate being greater, why are we still the less powerful sex?

I know this will lead to a volley of protests on how women control pretty much everything in this world so let me explain.

What do you think of a man who does not get into a committed relationship? A player, a footloose/fancyfree stud, a hero among his gender. What do you think of a woman in the same situation? That she couldn’t find a man because she wasn’t pretty/young/nice yadayada enough.

What do you call a man in his 30s or later who continues to have dalliances with the opposite sex without getting into one exclusive relationship? A merry bachelor, a cool dude, ‘young at heart’. What do you call a woman who is the same? ‘Desperate aunty’, ‘Cougar’ and a host of other uncomplimentary terms.

What is the common response to a man who announces he’s getting married or into any form of committment? “Sorry dude, your wings have been clipped, you’re chained now.” And a woman? “You’re so lucky! Your lifelong dream has come true! You are set for life!”

When a couple breaks up, what does the guy say? “Freedom at last!” And a woman? Don’t lie, the image we all just conjured up was a runny nose, plenty of chocolate, tearful eyes and cheesy romcoms.

So how does this work, huh? If I’m in a minority and in more demand, should I not be holding the reins of power? Shouldn’t I be lording it over the opposite sex, deciding whether or not to dally with them, making sure they know what a HUGE favour I’m doing just by associating with them? The only way I could do that would be to grow a Y chromosome pair.

Someone tell me that masculine logic makes sense.

Love Is An Intergalactic Negotiation

Being in a relationship, it’s not easy at all. No one said it would be easy. Umm, actually it was implied. Love as the grand jackpot waiting for you if you played your cards right. That was a big hoax.

It’s more like having intergalactic negotiations suspended in the far reaches of outer space. You speak a different language from the entity seated at the other end of the table (or whatever it is they use in intergalactic negotiations). You have a few handy tools, sights reported by those who’ve been there. But it’s not until you shoot in through that door you realize something fundamental. None of those sightings have been of this particular alien. They’re all of the hundreds and thousands of other life forms that are alien to you and each one, like this one is different. You’re all on your own now.

No way to tell if they’re hostile or friendly. No way to interpret what a gesture is intended to convey and what your response will trigger. How then, is trust, a hidden but integral part of any negotiation, learned? You take a chance and dive the heck in.

Gridlocks happen, just as in every kind of negotiation. Confusion and mayhem may reign. Each side may leave much worse for the wear and just a bit poorer. And yet we continue to strive for exploration, for communication, for connection, for peace and harmony. It is the very stuff of life after all.

Besides, did you catch a glimpse of the stars when you were out there? You’re so small, such an insignificant speck in the galaxy. But it was you out there on that dangerous, volatile, gut-clenching adventure called LOVE. You earned your place in the cosmos.

(If you like the Idea-toons, visit the gallery or the Facebook album for more)

What’s In My Handbag

The woman’s handbag, an eternal source of mystery apparently. Let me break free of the sisterhood and decode this womanly wile. Let me open my handbag and show you exactly what’s in there. Take a look at the things that have seen the insides of my handbag:

A Mad Woman

Watching ‘Mad Men’ brings up a thought that’s often just lying below the surface:

Why DO we put up with men?

The Rejected (Mad Men) (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

They’re horrible.

Date IITians: Gold-digger meets Pedigreed Pup?

Now here’s something that popped up on my browser window. I don’t know exactly how it came to be there. It may have appeared via an inadvertent click on a Facebook ad or a random link on my populous Twitter stream. I just know I’m going to get some flak on this one but it was so bizarre to me, that I just had to blog about it.

My first reaction was, “ARE YOU KIDDING ME??” As it turned out, they weren’t. Date IITians appears to be a social network/dating website. Here’s a little something that appears as part of the revolving screen.

Someone is waiting for you

You may admire a girl’s curves at the first meeting, but the second meeting shows up new angles.

And it gets better when you go in further:

Its the new era of Online Dating !
Thousands of IITians’/IIMites’/NITians’ profiles.
Make buddies, flirt & date your soulmate.
Develop a long-term relationship.

There is a certain kind of IIT guy that I deplore. I call them Pedigreed Pups and they are defined by nothing more than their degrees. It’s like they’re walking/talking certificates with zero emotional intelligence. But hang on, relationships & dating are about emotional intelligence.

Pedigreed Pups are human males too and to them I ask – is your self-esteem really so low that you have to resort to flashing about your college name to get a girl? Do you really, really think that no girl is ever going to take an interest in you otherwise? That’s really sad, man.

Never mind the sort of men that a tagline like that is bound to attract, what about the girls? What girl in her right mind would consent to being showcased like a piece of delectable meat (curves indeed!)? I’ll tell you – a gold-digger is what.

Since, and only because the IITs are institutions that India prides itself on, because a stamp from them ensure the entire nation’s never-failing respect and admiration, I have a problem. Firstly, does this not sully a strong, respectable brand? Secondly, what does it say about us as a people that we look up to the glorification of such crass values as gold-digging, blind objectification and gender stereotyping?

If IITians are the most intelligent minds in this country, how do they not get this? Or is it too much to hope that this is all a grand parody? They also have a blog, whose delightfully sincere and helpful posts tell me they’re serious. Oh well, different strokes for different folks I suppose. Now you know where to get your ISO certified dates from.

Weird Conversations

I guess there are some decent things about being a woman.

*If you enjoyed this comic-post, check out the rest of the Idea-toons. I used Stripcreator to create this comic.

Stupid Women

What do you call someone who keeps falling for the same trick? Stupid. What do you call someone who does it so often they don’t have a choice? A stupid woman.

Painting oneself into a corner – that’s an art perfected by my gender.

Now That You’ve Put A Ring On It, What Next?

So the engagement finally did happen and it was as fairytale, as individualistic and as special as I never dared hope it would be. It’s been a couple of months since then and I’ve had time to let it sink in.

For starters, the ring was too loose so back we went to the jeweller’s the very next day to tighten it up. Did you know how rings are measured? There’s a curious cone-shaped device with scale markings on it, for circumference. Quite innovative. The science student in me was tickled. Several tries later I walked out. It still is slightly loose but that’s not really the fault of the jeweller. The design is an unusual one where the circle sort of rises up near the diamonds, so it makes for a twisted circle. A shape like that would never fit snugly on a finger. Add to that my knobbly fingers that are knotty at the joints and then bone-thin everywhere else. So immediately, I developed the bad habit of turning the ring round and round my finger while fidgeting (which is often).

I can’t say I’ve still gotten used to how it looks and feels. It’s pretty,  but…it’s different from what I always wear. It’s not silver, it’s not an inexpensive no-frills piece of junk jewellery. When I’m wearing it in public, I’m always looking at it, checking to see that it’s in place, moving the diamond to the inside so it doesn’t get caught on door hinges and other things. Not exactly a picture of the content fairytale bride.

Then there’s how it is an indication of things deeper. Of course, I’m having cold feet. What, you think I need a Y chromosome to get that? I’ve never been comittmentphobic, I’ve never been anti-marriage and this isn’t some guy I met at the party last weekend. I’ve been in a committed relationship for nearly two years with him and there was never any question that this was a serious relationship heading this way eventually. It is the right time too. Still, I catch my breath on occasion when the reality hits me.

Every time we fight, for instance. Like that would surprise to anyone. Who gets second thoughts when all is peaceful and well? We’re the worst of all the ‘opposites attract’ stories right from Beauty & the Beast to The Lady & The Tramp. Worlds collide, opinions clash, words are exchanged and it all seems like such hard work. At those time, that ring that looks so beautiful and delightful in a ‘I’ve been waiting for so long for this!’ way, scares me. It scares the shit out of me when it metamorphoses in my head from a slender gold-and-diamond band to a heavy manacle chained to an iron ball. GULLLLLLPPPP.

I woke up one morning with a red scratch on the side of my nose. Even if I do have a nose that could probably bridge a dam, it’s unlikely I got it anywhere else. That sparkly ring was to blame, yet again. (And oh, apparently I rub my own face when I sleep). So I decided to take it off when I slept.

There was at least once through a bitter fight, when I decided to take it off and put it back into its box till it felt ‘right’ to wear it. One day stretched into another and I realized I hadn’t worn my ring for almost 10 days, well past our argument and its resolution. And immediately after I noticed it, I realized that I missed it. So that evening, when I went out, I slipped on my lovely engagement ring as well. It felt nice, not awkward at all. And that night, before going to sleep, I took it off and put it away.

I realized something that night. Having to wear the ring all the time, made it bondage. Taking it off before sleep brought it back to being a beautiful piece of jewellery. Being able to choose when to wear it or not gave me back my power. I am a powerful woman in this relationship, after all. I’m not engaged to a man who needs to keep me submissive or show his ownership of me with a piece of metal. I am with a person who respects and supports me for the person I am. Having this choice is my daily, personal reminder.

The arguments haven’t stopped. But the cold panic in the middle of the night has. And the second thoughts stay just what they are – secondary thoughts.

A Bit Of Boring

So the boy and I took our first trip together. This weekend (and a bit before that) was a fest of beaches & booze at Goa. Yes, cliched, I know. But we’re a Mumbai couple and what’s more, he’d never been to Goa before that. It was sunny, sandy, touristy and very, very relaxing. What else is there to say about Goa?

I had regaled him with stories of my past trips, both the memories as well as the unshakeable notions of it being a touristy, firang-pandering boozehole. After all, this was my fourth visit and what’s more, I have to say something intelligent (or what sounds like it). Maybe because I was playing tour guide or perhaps because I am an unabashed ogler, I attempted to point out the visual delights of Goa to him. Day one opened on the beach and I gleefully pointed out a couple of women with a confident,

“She’s going to take off her top.”

He looked around disinterestedly then waved to the shack boy for a cold beer. As we walked back to the road later, I pointed out others walking past. My, what fine legs (and butts and stomachs) some women have! His reactions were no different but I didn’t really bother. Mr.Everyday thinks indifference is an emotion and condescension is a virtue. It’s maddening, especially to a high strung person like me but that’s that.

After all that lazing on the beach, we lazed a bit more by the pool. We talked about trying out the water sports and of climbing the fort. But of course, we did none of it. Much beer was consumed. Plenty of waves were splashed. Some pool water was beaten into a flurry. And some television was watched too. The most of our exertions were the half an hour walk along a shaded road to the restaurants (and that too because we dawdled).

On day two (or was it the same day), he looked up over his beer and said,

“You know, I’ve realized that I don’t really enjoy looking at women that much, any more.”

Way to go, lover boy. That’s hell of a thing to tell a woman who has just accepted your proposal. Oblivious to the Concorde express of thoughts in my mind, he continued,

“Like, you know those girls you were talking about at the market. Or that woman on the beach. It’s like, haan, okay, whatever. I mean, I don’t know anything about her. She’s nobody to me. Why should I bother thinking about her?”

And with that mysterious (if not characteristically condescending) note, he settled back to finish his beer, apparently satisfied at having completed his quota of intelligent conversation. But my face must have prompted more because he added,

“I’m a bit boring, no?”

Of course, I gushed and grinned and said,

“I could do with a bit of this boring!”

I really have had had my fill of pretty promises by Princes Charming who turn out to be nothing more than wine & tequila (see this post for explanation). I’ve moved on to rum, in my glass and in my man.

But he had to go and ruin it by reminding me that,

“Yeah but with this bit of boring, you also gotta take my other bits of boring. Like when I don’t like going out. Or when I hate partying. Or when I don’t talk to your friends.”

Sigh. Bit of boring he did say.

Last week, Rehab sent me this write-up titled ‘Marry Him‘, wanting to know what I thought. I surprised myself by agreeing with a few of the things mentioned in the article. There’s tremendous truth in what the writer says about marriage being a team partnership and not a ‘cosmic connection’ thing.

The boy and I have polar opposite personalities, virtually no shared interests, and practically no common ground. Most of our time is spent talking (arguing) about food, work, money & other such mundane stuff. When I think back to my single days, those times always seem more fun, more inspiring, intelligent & generally more attractive than our current lives. But you know something? We are still together. Yes, there is love. But more than that, there is stability, there is someone to talk to, someone to whine to, someone to tell each of us things will be okay, someone to acknowledge our efforts when stuff we do goes unnoticed. The opposite of all of that is loneliness. I don’t know that these are necessarily frivolous or unimportant things to base a relationship on.

I’ve always had a thing for drama and wild, flourishing gestures. I imagined that my life would be incomplete without these. It’s not that I don’t miss these occasionally. But most of the time, I just feel relieved that I don’t have to live through that. Everyday life is not and shouldn’t be a blockbuster film. It’s exhausting going through that even for a few hours and I sure as well don’t see myself spending the rest of my years that way.

I guess a bit of boring is okay.

* Image via nuttakit on FreeDigitalPhotos.

XXFactored Feb&Mar2011: Sex Charts, Mad Men & Causes Gone Wrong

I didn’t post an XXFactored update in February because the month was so busy that I barely had the time to scout for links. Other people however, did share links and I really wanted to showcase them. While on this, allow me a brief crib about the new Facebook page format. It shows the page admin’s links on the main page but other members links in a tiny box. Not cool, I say. It totally kills the spirit of community that link-sharing used to do.

Now on to the links.

• Someone’s idea of what happens to people of either gender when they fail their exams. It sparked off a heated debate. (via Lakshmi Jagad)
• HOWL-a-rious! ‘- 14 Realities of Romantic Relationships in chart form‘ (via Cracked)
• In memory of a remarkable woman and a talented musician laid to waste – ‘I’m Every Woman‘
  
• I’m sure a whole lot of us will be silently thanking the makers for this handy tool! – ‘5 Signs You’ve Been Stalking Your Ex Online Too Much‘ (via How About We)
• Harsh, hard-hitting….dare I say…true? The undeniably justified cause of gay rights, seems to have become no more than a free ride of attention and entertainment for those so privileged.  ‘The Queer Movement is dead; Long Live the Queer Movement!‘ (via DNA Newspaper, link courtesy Dhamini Ratnam)
• A hilarious set of charts – check out the ones mapping people who use Twitter daily versus others. – ‘10 Charts about Sex‘ (via OkCupid)
• ‘Why Indian Men are still boys‘ (via Tehelka, link courtesy Gautam Ghosh)
• ‘No, Catcalling is not a compliment and here’s why’ (via Hello Giggles, link courtesy Ashwini Mishra)
• If this 60s show has sparked off your fancy, here’s a look at some of the female stereotypes of the time by how Don Draper sees them. ‘4 Types Of Women Don Draper has Dated.‘ (via YourTango)

• ‘What Your Favorite Mad Men Lady Says About You‘ (via TheGloss)
• This is totally off the edge – ‘Marketing Xenosexuality: Women & the Sex Robot taboo?‘ (via Future of Sex, link courtesy Gautam Ghosh)
• “Lighten up” can be the most passive-aggressive chauvinistic phrase ever! ‘The Million Little Barbs of Lighten Up!‘ (via BuzzFeed)
• ‘Where Have All The Young Men Gone?‘ (via HR Blogs, links courtesy Gautam Ghosh)
• This is true of any movement – rabidity only works against you in the long run. ‘How Pro-Lifers made me a Pro-Choice Activist.‘ (via TheGloss)
• ‘5 Warnings to go with 5 Types of Men who make great husbands‘ (via From Outside The Mall, link courtesy Gautam Ghosh)

You can catch the links as they come in and even post your own to The XX Factor Facebook Page.