Mr.Modern Man, Get An Identity!

There’s a strange character out on the loose. He calls himself the Modern Man. I am not sure that I like him very much. For one thing, he’s really hard to find. He pops up, in a sudden self-reference and then vanishes under questioning. Then he resurfaces during what should have been a good moment, to ruin it with a self-promoting boast. I understand that he’s still trying to find himself. While about it, here’s what I’d like to say to him. So listen up, Mr.Modern Man!

Doing a couple of household chores does not qualify you for a medal. Get to doing 50% of the housework, without being reminded, and as well as I can, and you can have the right to advocate equality of the sexes.

Not dictating what your lady wears, who she speaks to, and what she wears does NOT make you a great guy. It just means that you’re not being a control-freak.

Fail in these and your stand of ‘Independent women can take care of themselves’  just seems like a cheap attempt to shrug off even the minimal responsibility that a male chauvinist’s role carries.

What is the meaning of an identity that is defined solely by the evils that one does not practice? A weak one, that’s what. Who are you, Mr.Modern Man? Is there more to you than the fact that you’re not a rapist/control freak/jealous monster? Identity is what you are, not what you are not.

I get how difficult it can be to break free of conditioning and resist archaic social constructs. I do that all the time, myself. But it doesn’t stop there, for me. You go against the grain and you break what exists down, so you can build something new in its place. Try being more than what your erstwhile counterparts were not. Define yourself for your values rather than what you don’t do or how well you meet my expectations. Most of all, get some balls of your own. I don’t recall asking for those to be chopped off when I let go of Neanderthal Man.

You don’t get to be great by default. And if you want to be the equal counterpart to the Modern Woman, you know you’ve got a high standard to match. I’m not saying the Modern Woman is without flaws or even that she knows exactly who is she. But at least, she’s got some sense of identity beyond what you or your brethren want to make of her. And the one thing she won’t stand for is vague, empty words.

Come back to me when you’re a real person, not just a fanciful notion in pop literature. I’ll be delighted to get to know you.

*Image via Idea go on FreeDigitalPhotos.

If you liked this post, you might also find these articles interesting:

• The Modern Man
• The Modern Woman
• The ‘Modern Woman’ Is Not Another Gender Stereotype

The Princess/ Professional Dichotomy

*Image via MicrosoftOffice

The woman who can’t decide if she wants to be the Nice Girl or the Business Skirt

There is a certain kind of woman that I’ve been becoming more and more conscious of, in the past decade. I found her right after I started working. This woman may hold down any job, from adwoman to pilot to salesgirl to journalist. She’s got the degrees, the skill set and even the resume. She’s confident, can speak the right jargon (in business situations) and lingo (in social situations). She may also have the other requisite paraphernalia for being a Superwoman, such as a cool hobby, an offbeat alternate career, a with-it social circle, a quirky love life and the mandatory ‘progressive’ outlook on gender equality.

On my first job, my company hired a bunch of people for a short-term assignment after an interview process. During the actual project, the woman in charge of managing a front desk was found combing her hair (at that very desk). When questioned about the whereabouts of certain materials that she was responsible for, she looked bewildered and said, “I don’t know”. My cutting (and in retrospect, harsh) reply was, “You have two hands, two legs & a head. Hopefully you have a brain too. You were hired to use all of them.”

Image via Wikipedia

There is the weaseling out of uncomfortable situations such as being pulled up for bad (or incomplete) work, by crying. You would think it’s easy to tell what kind of woman would break down if you pointed out a mistake on her report. But this is not the pretty, dainty princess sort. This is the toughie, ‘I can hold my own’ sort who ambushes you with an emotional response. It’s all the more difficult to handle such a situation because you never saw it coming. We deal with people along the equations that are set in place based on power dynamics & social roles. This particular situation means the woman abruptly changes all those, leaving you weaker to respond.

And finally there’s the kicker of turning to male support. Personally, I’ve always had a chip on my shoulder about having to ask a guy for help. I admit this may be an ego issue, since I’ve had to take offense so often against sexist remarks. But there’s nothing permissible about a professional who needs ‘rescuing’ on account of her gender.

Recently, I went on a short trip out of the city. The tour was organized by a young lady, who seemed full of bright ideas and budding talent. She’s a musician, who quit a corporate job to start a travel tours company with some friends. She was confident, articulate and enthusiastic. She was also charming, at ease with new people and seemed like she’d be able balance all the varying demands of these jobs well. The trip went completely off because of mismanagement of time and as it turned out, people. Each episode was dismissed with a smiling nonchalance. When things came to a head, she shrugged and said, “What can I do now? Just chill out yaar.” Shortly after, one of the male guests turned up to speak on her behalf. Thereafter, it was up to him to sort out the various glitches that had occurred because she had not done her job properly. Even if he did not have any problem with having to do this, he could not be held accountable for any issues that came up from the mismanagement or the superficial solutions that were offered. The lady in question quite literally shrugged it all off, putting it down to other people being difficult.

A number of situations like this have me saying, “I would never hire her!” which comes across as harsh & judgemental. But I am a certain kind of professional, the kind that thinks commitment to work & earning respect are gender-irrespective. If I demand equality in recruitment processes & in salaries, I don’t feel like I can ask for gender concessions while working. Besides being unfair, how can I expect any sort of respect if I do that?

Women like this weaken my stand, both within the professional setup (if they work with me) and for my gender. It’s hard enough to assess whether a woman is going to turn out this way. What’s even harder is the assumption that because I’m a woman, I should condone anything from another woman. There are the allegations of my sex being the proverbial crabs in a pot, not wanting other women to shine. Then there are accusations of being a bitch, as a boss or as a customer. And finally, there’s the assumption that I don’t truly believe in women’s liberation since supposedly, I don’t ‘support’ women in the workplace.

What I’m wondering is, when did equality end at rights and stop being about responsibility as well? I’m asking does the requirement of professionalism not apply to women, just because they’re women? And why at all should I have any respect for these women who’re just using feminism as a convenient excuse to write off sloppiness, laziness, irresponsibility and bad attitudes?

On the other side, I also have to admit that most women struggle with early-imposed notions of being ‘Nice’. At the most basic level, I think it’s important for every woman who goes out to work, to question what being a professional really means. I want to believe that it has nothing to do with popularity stakes and everything to do with getting the job done right.

Related articles

• The Princess & The Pleb
• Not A Nice Girl
• Superwoman
• Meet some of the other modern gender stereotypes in the Character Sketches

The Modern Man

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Here’s welcoming XX Factor‘s second guest-contributor. He’s as smart as the next man but he’s still perplexed by the complicated world of women. He brings his brand of wry musings, politically (in)correct observations and gender role confusion to this blog as the ‘Armchair Philosopher‘. Over to the chair.

- IdeaSmith

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Hello everybody. The unicorn’s here. The phoenix, the Bermuda triangle, the Loch Ness monster. The modern equivalent of a mythical creature no one has seen but everyone seems to talk about- “the Modern Man“.

So who is this creature? What does he look like? Is he human? Or has he been sent to Planet Earth by alien feminists? Is it his mission to spread his subversive propaganda about how a man ought to be, in order to ruin it for male chauvinist pigs all over the world?

Can a Modern Man be comfortable with a dominant woman, a woman who has her own life and friends and does not fit any of the gender roles he has been raised to accept as gospel truths? Can he really? Or does he just train himself to make all the appropriate responses? Or worse still, is the only way he can be modern, by assuming indifference?

The Modern Man is a myth because of the sheer relativity of his existence. A Modern Man has no real features of his own. A Modern Man is simply a man who can complement a Modern Woman . His modernity is defined by his responses to the modernity of the Modern Woman.

And therein lies the greatest problem of all. The Modern Man does not know who he is because the very reference point of his existence, the bedrock of his existentialism is the Modern Woman herself. But the Modern Woman does not know who she is either!

Stuck between Superwoman complexes and conflicted between her instincts and her principles, the Modern Woman is a mess. The Modern Man grows up with the naive principle that we are all equal. But when he lives with the Modern Woman, he realizes there is nothing equal about how she is treated. Landlords and electricians address him but ignore her. Waiters at restaurants offer you the bill even when she pays. And let’s not even get started on the great Indian family.

So what do you do when you see that the equality of gender you took for granted was a lie? What do you feel? Guilt and shame for being a man in a world that beats down someone for having a vagina? But when you believe something your whole life, it is never easy to accept it as a lie. So you try and convince the Modern Woman of the ‘equality’ she is blind to. Convince her it’s all in her head. And we all know how well that goes.

This post might seem like a rant of questions but that is the life of a Modern Man. So many questions. And anyone who says they have all the answers is lying. Till then, we shall all chase that elusive unicorn. And till I figure it out, I’ll still open the door for her. I will still carry her bags and buy her chocolates. Because I like how she smiles.  That is the only thing I can really be certain about. Everything else is just questions.

Related articles

• The Modern Woman (xxfactor.wordpress.com)
• The Passive-Aggressive Chauvinist (xxfactor.wordpress.com)
• The Unholy State Of Matrimony
  (xxfactor.wordpress.com)

The Passive-Aggressive Chauvinist

Image via Wikipedia

The boy and I were sampling the Southern delights of Matunga the other day. I was all aflame with excitement at the opportunity to show off some traditional Tamilian fare to the boy.

After an earlier visit to the famed Madras Cafe, this time we made our way to the other famous eating joint  around the corner – Ramakrishna hotel.

The restaurant isn’t even remotely fancy or ‘nice’. It’s grimy & dingy. But the food, I remembered from childhood visits, was good. When the waiter finally came up, I summoned up my best Tamizh (continuing to show off to boy, of course) to order up a storm of special delights that a non-Tamilian would not be expected to know of. To my utter dismay, the waiter practically shrugged and wandered off even as I was talking.

This continued for the better part of 10 minutes and the only way our order went through was when the boy placed it (in Hindi). To add insult to injury, when my plate finally arrived, the waiter put it down in front of the boy, even though I’d clearly shouted at least five times about wanting that dish and even asked the waiter about its various accompaniments.

We finished up what was put on the table in record time, most of our appetite drained by this gross inhospitality. When the bill arrived (placed in front of the boy, of course), I meaningfully extracted the money from my wallet and dropped it on the table & sauntered out. Cheap thrill but a small victory, that. I think he got the significance of that and perhaps he’ll be nice to the next woman who places an order, if he thinks she’ll be the one tipping him. That woman, though, won’t be me.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~

No daily service provider seems to think that a woman’s job needs to be taken seriously. Ergo, random reschedules, blatant lies & the worst of all – gentle dismissal of any complaints. This includes maidservants, fridge repair technicians, electricians, gas mechanics and anyone else you might be able to think of. I’ve been jerked around by an electrician with a genteel,

“I’m at a friend’s place now. Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you.”

This man’s turned up 2 days later, then claimed that ‘the lady just got confused and didn’t understand what it was all about.’

As with every other facet of chauvinism, this one is fully supported by the ladies too. The maid turns up half an hour late, then laughs it off saying that she thought I didn’t have anywhere to go, despite being categorically told that I had a meeting that morning. Oddly, enough the same woman speaks with pride of her children going to a good school and what careers they’re going to have. The senior citizen neighbors want to know what I’ve cooked and where I’m going. Funny, these questions really wouldn’t be asked if I were a guy. And why assume that I’m going to cook, just because I’m female?

This is the passive-aggressive side of the male chauvinism of this country. The words don’t say  ‘a woman’s place is in the kitchen’ but the actions try to nudge you right back into that role. The men in all these cases will not meet my eyes and in most cases, don’t appear to even hear what I’m saying. It’s like because they don’t like the fact that I exist (with my obvious ‘modern woman‘ outlook), they pretend I don’t.

There is a growing sentiment among the educated men in this country, against what they think of as ‘rabid feminism’. Sure, I want to be moderate too and believe that the genders are equal and that it all comes down to individual attitudes & values. But pray tell me, how am I supposed to be be dignified when the world doesn’t even want to acknowledge that I exist? This passive-aggressive stance more than anything else is what pushes a normal, sane woman towards excessive aggression, anger & angst.

The next service provider to give me attitude is going to have it coming to him, right between his legs and sucks to anybody who thinks that it’s hitting below the belt.

The Man Shop

*Image by Runs With Scissors via Flickr

This post was written in jest. If you are offended by strong female opinions, jokes about the dating market or the battle of the sexes, please read no further.

I remember an urban legend that did the popular rounds a couple of years back. It described a Craigslist ad, unabashedly detailing its writer’s requirement for a ‘Sugar Daddy’ in return for her services as a Trophy Wife. She got a response from a potential Sugar Daddy sort who explained that since what she brought to the deal (looks) was a depreciating asset while his contribution (money) was an increasing asset, the deal did not make sense. He proposed a ‘rental’ agreement as opposed to her ‘buy’ offer.

Back then, it caused a lot of mirth among the men who read it, one of whom gleefully forwarded the entire thing to me as his reaction to XX Factor. It made me mad enough to write a post, which unfortunately, I never ended up publishing. So now, here for your mirthful pleasure (and please read with a huge, big scoop of salt), I present – The Man Shop.

So in the traditional dating market, women are coming up short on account of their fading looks as compared to men’s increased earning capacity? But now that women are wearing boardroom collars (and carrying matching handbags with corresponding purses), this relationship economy is turning on its head. The man is now available on sale just as well and my gender has always enjoyed shopping. Let’s look at what The Man Shop has to offer:

When we go window shopping, we find the following on display:

Perfect Provider

Cost: Not for sale. This one is for display purposes only, showcased in fairytales & myths fed down countless generations to women.

Maintenance: An elaborate production of movies, books, maxims, wise-women sayings.

Lifespan: The length of one romcom/ chicklit novel/ fairytale.

Benefits: What are the benefits of being with a guy who is not commitment-phobic, lazy, insensitive, selfish or mean but is courteous, romantic, egoless & forgiving?

Risks: Delusion. Unrealistic expectations.

Okay, let’s move on to the actual wares on display.

Trophy Boyfriend

Cost: Moderate to High depending on the circles you move in. Rich, successful men like having women fawn over them (actually all men do). It’s not impossible to acquire one of these so long as you’re willing to bury your pride and keep from getting too fond of him. The tricky part is the competition with the other women. Wear your clearance sale-fight cap.

Maintenance: High. They are fickle and whimsical (or maybe that’s an affectation, just because they can). Be ready for high upkeep of beauty, wit, intelligence (or stupidity, whichever caught his eye about you).

Lifespan: A week at best. If he’s still there after that, the chances are he wasn’t a trophy in the first place (and is hanging on to you for dear life). In the far chance that he falls in love with you, he’ll still be too used to too much female devotion to make a really good partner, short-term or long-term. Let go if he doesn’t.

Benefits: He looks good, he makes you look good and he’s perfect for turning your nemesis/ex-boyfriend green with envy.

Risks: None. P.S. – Remember to treat these men like ice-cream. If you get one, enjoy him while he lasts and then forget about him.

Pedigreed Pup:
(A version of the Trophy Boyfriend with an impressive degree)

Cost: Expensive (unless a rare one is going slumming for the fun of it, you generally have to match their status symbols)

Maintenance: High (fragile egos, tight schedules)

Lifespan: A few weeks.

Benefits: Flashy, impressive

Risks: Reneging on their deals with all tracks covered. P.S. – Read the fine print.

Toy Boy

Cost: Moderate (generally impressed/overawed by the financial edge you have)

Maintenance: Low to Moderate (will look up to you for advice, for directions on how to live their life etc)

Lifespan: A couple of months.

Benefits: Willing to be puppy-dogs

Risks: Messy if they fall in love with you. P.S. – Never treat a Toy Boy as a Trophy Boyfriend. If he’s that flashy and he’s dating you, he’s probably got an older woman fixation in which case you’re the prize.

Married Man
(If this offends you, move on to next item. If a product exists & this one certainly does, assume there’s an interested buyer)

Cost: Low (desperate for any crumbs of the perks of the hallowed bachelor days)

Maintenance: Very low (especially since you have more options than he does)

Lifespan: As long as you can stand it

Benefits: Unrestricted Freedom

Risks: The wife finding out. Let’s not talk about conscience; it could be all you hear for the rest of your life.

Fuck-buddy

(Friend-with-benefits if you may please)

Cost: Moderate (Even going by the premise that most men are always ready to f@#$, relationship history irrespective, the species is a little rare on account of the fact that some men can’t stomach the same attitude in women)

Maintenence: Zero. That’s their key selling point.

Lifespan: As long as you can both sustain it (or till one of you gets married, in which case see case above)

Benefits: All the comfort and convenience of a friendship. No judgements over nature of love life, career or monetary status.

Risks: Loss of a friendship; awkwardness if one decides to get married (and presumably both keep in touch after) and the big one – if you can come and go as you please, so can he.

* To be continued when further stocks arrive.

If you liked this post, also read:

• Men by the cities & towns they live in
• Men by their professions
• Men by their hobbies & interests
• Men by the Indian states they hail from
• Men by which Bollywood pin-up girl they like best
• If alcohol was a man

Related articles

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• Hunter Hunted! [Women expert men hunters] (herbertmtowo.wordpress.com)
• Sugar Daddy Ken Doll Spotted on SeekingArrangement.com (prweb.com)

The Pygmalion Complex

I watched My Fair Lady last week. What a delightful movie! And alongside enjoying the music and the plot, it set me thinking about..what else…gender stereotypes.

We have the superbly fresh flower-girl Eliza Dolittle and the indoubtable Professor Higgins. Everyone knows the story of the professor’s transformation of Eliza from street urchin to society belle.

I think some men have an irresistible compulsion to mold the woman in their lives. Yes, I know women have been accused of doing the same thing to their men for generations countless. Dare I suggest that we’re better at DIY personality improvement programs? But I jest.

Source: Movies-Wallpapers

Let’s come back to Professor Higgins. Once the street corner flower-urchin has been duly slapped into shape…errm, transformed into a lovely lady with a besotted high-society admirer, her creator suddenly wants her to go back to being submissive and receptive of his tough if not insensitive admonitions. Now is that wise? Let’s forget about fair, but is that really a realistic expectation?

There seems to be a subtle parallel in a lot of today’s so-called ‘liberated men’. So they’re all good and fine with knowing women who’re intelligent, accomplished and confident. They even manage to submerge their egos at their counterparts’ successes. So long as she’s also a perfect hostess, has a glamour-magazine-spread shaped body, cooks like a dream and loves children.

Because she’s so good in everything! I’m just a regular guy!

Hah! I defy any geneticist to prove to me that being a woman endows me with a good-at-cooking-and-keeping-house gene. Double bah!

To come back to the The Pygmalion Complex, is there really such a thing? Yes, I do think so. This 55-word story I wrote a long time ago was based on a real-life experience.

She proposed. He declined.

You’re too intense for me.

He said then.

A few years later, they met.
He was older, she wiser.

He frowned,

I don’t like what you’ve become.

You didn’t like me the way I was!

She wanted to cry when he said

I did. I miss who you used to be.

It has been my lot to have known a lot of strong-willed men. I seem to be drawn to such people. Every single one of them has tried to change me, initially by brute force (using everything from mean, sniggering taunts to abusive, controlling behaviour). In the more recent times, my own stubborn will stands in the way, so instead I get a sulky man on my hands instead, very like Professor Higgins at the end of the movie.

What is this compulsion with changing people? It seems to give the changer a sense of power. For the changee (the woman in the case), it is like having an alternate father-figure. In the story, poor little Eliza was an impoverished flower-girl with a neglectful father so Professor Higgins really did elevate her social status. But even so, he wasn’t really ready to be able to treat her as his equal, socially and intellectually. In Ms.Doolittle’s memorable words,

He is a gentleman because he treats a flower-girl as if she were a lady. You would treat a lady like she was a flower-girl.

Perhaps the sufferer of a Pygmalion Complex also experiences the empty-nest syndrome following being a father-figure, once his protege gains ‘adulthood’ or a voice and opinion of her own. Don’t fathers behave very much the same way with their daughters? It is a commonly visible fact that mothers are quicker to accept the changes of time and embrace the reality of their offspring’s adulthood than fathers are.

At a more deep-rooted level, perhaps men do find it more difficult to let go of the control and power that comes from being a protector/teacher/guide. Whether he’s a father or a mentor, it is rather touching that at the end, he seems to have suffered more from the growing pains of his child/protege. My Fair Lady ends with Eliza demonstrating that she truly is a lady and in every way, the Professor’s equal (if not the stronger sex) when she lets him fret a bit but finally does return to him.

Ah, men. Why do they confuse independence with not caring?

Related articles

• Pygmalion – review (guardian.co.uk)
• drama film: My Fair Lady (gwadamakemoney.wordpress.com)
• Friday Flashback: My Fair Lady (1964) (magiclanternfilm.wordpress.com)

How To Deal With The Single Married Man

Ideasmith says,

Please join me in welcoming XX Factor‘s first guest-contributor. He’s a friend who often has an interesting male perspective to offer on the posts. Meet The Single Married Man and here’s his first post:

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Why does a relationship fall apart?’

I still don’t know the answer to that question, though I suspect its got to do with expectations.

We don’t talk of expectations or values when we are flush with the glow of infatuation. However expectations are what make/ruin a relationship – and they have to be communicated in advance.

A lot of the expectations can be “value” or “condition” based – things like “I want a husband who keeps a steady job and buys a house for me by the time we are 30″ – if you can’t meet that, buddy, you’re doomed.

I have been married for 11 years – and I am going through a divorce now…Have seen my behavior – scrutinized it – so here are the top tips for dealing with a married man going through divorce

1. He will hit on anything in skirts/salwar kameez/jeans – As someone who’s been married the guy will try to see if he’s still “got his game” – so he’ll try out all the old lines on all the single/separated women

2. If you’re a married woman don’t tell him about your bad marriage – Divorcing guys hone into married women going through a bad patch. He’ll think you are “fair game” without the baggage

3. What had attracted her to you is the bone of contention – Remember what she found adorable about you – your forgetfulness – your laid back attitude , she will hate you for it. And other women would like you for it. Don’t fall for it.

4. He’ll be teary eyed and emotional – We saw Sanjeev Kumar in “Pati Patni aur Woh” – learn the lesson

5. If you’re single – and are attracted to grey hair – deep voice , stay away

In time the married guy will go through a divorce and be single again. Until that happens, legally – give him a wide berth.

- The Single Married Man

Related articles

• Soul Searching After Divorce (divorcedazed.wordpress.com)
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The Modern Woman

The modern woman is realizing why men have been workaholics and absent parents all these years.
The modern woman is grappling with the Catch-22 of being equal and wanting to look up to someone.

The modern woman is torn between the age-old power of her sexuality and the new-found one accorded to her gender.
The modern woman loves the idea of a credit card in her name but hates the bill that is also in her name..

The modern woman would want it all if only she could find place for it in her handbag.
The modern woman wonders, if she has the best of all worlds, what’s left to want?

The modern woman is proud of her moodiness, her ruthlessness, her ambition, her aggressiveness in bed, but not of her independence (though she’d like to think so).
The modern woman could challenge your masculinity; she could also rule with her femininity.
She does both alternatively and tires of both games.

The modern woman can rationalize, intellectualize, visualize but secretly wonders what happened to plain old thinking and feeling.
The modern woman is privileged and tough and frustrated and bored and high on a combination of vodka, estrogen and aspirin.

The modern woman thinks someone should write new fairy tales.
The modern woman will start to write one, only it will turn out as a journal of her life which will become a management bestseller (whose royalties she’ll collect and hate the fame for its apt hypocrisy)

The modern woman sympathizes with her male peers and pities her colleagues and ex-boyfriends, ALMOST. She’s a woman still.
The modern woman fights for woman power as a concept and hates her clan – she hasn’t changed all that much.

The modern woman hates being vulnerable but she also wonders what’s left of her femininity after even that goes.
The modern woman is taken for a ride by the new-age sensitive man and ponders the phrase ‘role reversal’.

The modern woman wears sneakers, unisex perfumes, toned biceps and her hair short, simply because there isn’t a damn thing the men can do about it.
The modern woman occasionally wears sandals and scarves and both hates and revels in the grateful, obsequious compliments that they get.

The modern woman is either a ruthless bitch or an overwhelming earth-mother or both…even she doesn’t know.
The modern woman is driving the world forward and its driving her crazy.

The modern woman made the above rangoli to personify all that she yearns to be but will never aspire to be – innocence, subservience.
The modern woman will still proudly display her confusion as a sign of her boldness as this one has done.

The modern woman is going down the road to insanity and dragging the world with her.

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An earlier version of this is posted here.

The Man-Child: Tribulations Of A Twenty-Five-Old

I am really liking this. There is a new kind of man up and about and he makes me re-think all my notions about men and relationships. There was of course the spectacular younger man that I had the good fortune to be with for a brief while. And there are my other friends and acquaintances. They have one thing in common – they’re all twenty-five. Of course it is the fact that they’re 25-year-olds viewed from my 30-year-old eyes. I don’t think I quite liked 25-year-old men when I was 25 myself. At the risk of sounding all haughty-superior, I’m now at the vantage position of viewing them from an older and yes, wiser perspective.

25 seems to be right time to call him a man-child. There are traces of his boyishness and childishness (some of which he may never grow out of). And there are stirrings of adulthood, many-hued, whether it is the seriousness of ambition or the charm and ruthlessness of a Male Slut, the depravity of the grown-up Bad Boy, the ‘tortoise in hare-and-tortoise’ of the Beta Male or even the decisiveness of a human being who is just older and more confident. He could go any of those ways (or all of them), he’s poised on the treshold of who he is going to be for the large part of the rest of his life. You can almost see how he’s going to turn out as a husband and father. It’s watching his adulthood in its crystallization.

The love of my life made the mountain-moving decision of his life at twenty-five – that it wasn’t going to be about finding a perfect woman but finding someone who’d do and making it work with her. That was a drastic shift from the ruthless, nearly-Nazi-like quest for perfection that marked his earlier relationships (including the one with me).

What makes it truly sweet is watching the vulnerability that also accompanies him. Either it gets shattered with heartbreak, disappointment and such. Or it is hidden away, as is the case with most men and their need to be ‘manly’. And in a few, very few cases, it grows along with him (though to be quite sure, I’ve only seen this happen with gay men).

Amidst all the fun and laughter that spotted my last (and only) association with a younger man, there was one serious discussion about relationships. At the very base of his multitudinous flings, I unearthed a fear in him that every woman he’d meet was likely to cheat. And all because he had received (willingly, I may add) the attentions of a woman who was already in a relationship. I could tell it was early days and that fear had not solidified into an attitude as yet. But I could very easily see where this was going. I could see him as the kind of guy who’d jump from fling to fling, with little regard to the feelings of the people concerned, because he was in so much of a hurry to get away before he got hurt. It was almost tangibly painful to realize that his tenderness, the sweet solicitousness with which he received me might very well be gone in a couple of years. And yet, it could go the other way. If he found someone who could change his mind about that, he might be a very different person indeed – a wonderfully caring partner and a delightful friend. At the end of it, in my mind, it is symbolised by his voice – deep-throated and firm most of the time, but briefly turning plaintive and tentative when he said,

That’s what I wonder. Is there any loyalty in relationships anymore?

It was haunting in how vulnerable it sounded and it moved me. I haven’t felt moved, really touched by something a man said or did for a long time.

I also recently had a conversation with yet another man-child (unsurprisingly twenty-five). He’s tired of being called ‘cute’ and he imagines that he’ll never get a girl if this continues. So he wants to revamp himself into a sexier, more macho, adult avatar. I don’t know why he can’t see what I see – a guy who’s quite pleasant to look at, affable, fun, intelligent and nice to boot. What woman wouldn’t fall for that? And they probably already are, only he isn’t realising it. But I can’t stop him if he decided he wants to turn Neanderthal man. I hesitate to tell him that it will only make him look ridiculous because that so isn’t him. I wish he would realize that his cuteness, this little-boy vulnerability that makes women want to take care of him…that’s his greatest draw. Well, perhaps he’ll realize it on his own. Man-child he may be, but he isn’t stupid.

And finally, I get something out of this. Seeing the vulnerable side of a man, much before it has been buried or strangled out of existence or mangled beyond recognition…it’s a moving experience. It brings me back the respect I had for the male species, that brought me so many close friendships with them. It also brings back the tenderness and affection, banishes my own fear of all men being monsters. It makes them look human in my eyes and that can only be good.

I raise my glass to the wondrousness of the twenty-five-year-old man! Cheers, baby, you’re awesome!

The Advocate For Cheating & Other Married Men

In my 10-year-dating life, I’ve seen a number of different kinds of relationships and dates, which have given rise to the Character Sketches. Now I come up against yet another one – The Married Man.

First and foremost, I’d like to say that I have a lot of respect for the institution of marriage, and indeed, no less for arranged marriages. My parents had an arranged marriage and they celebrated their 31st wedding anniversary this year. If you ask then, why I’m not married, well it is simply because I haven’t found anyone I can have that kind of a relationship with, yet.

It is a fact that the social environment is very different today than the one that my parents met and and started their relationship in. Neither mum nor dad really have independent friend circles, let alone know too many single people of their generation. I belong to several social circuits that include couples, some where I’m friends with the guy, some with the girl.

Friendships themselves have changed. While my parents would never even consider introducing a flirtatious note into their discussions with their social groups, my generation itself seems to be a flirty one. Sex, attraction, relationship are all a little too ‘out there’ if you ask me. Romance, privacy and intimacy have been sacrificed to free expression, enhanced comfort zones and devil-may-carishness. Okay, I’m getting preachy. I enjoy being a part of this world, it works for me. But I think in an attempt to get it all out there, we’ve meandered so far into the grey that we may have lost sight of black and white.

Now here’s the thing. Being as I am, a single woman who’s also friendly and approachable, I find my social circuit quite expansive and complex. The Married Man is only one of those many dark alleys in this complex terrain. How do I treat him? If he has been a friend before he acquired the tag, then the situation is relatively simpler. I take heed of how his wife feels about his women friends and our friendship accordingly moves along or away. That’s how much I respect marriage…enough to think that a spouse does have the right to deliberately or inadvertently alter the nature of one’s other relationships.

How about if the Married Man is someone I’ve met later? Do I treat him like I treat all the other guys? The flirtatious tone does need to be dropped, not everyone gets that it’s part of my personality and has little to do with the person I speak to. But what about when the guy is flirting with me? And before you jump to the defense of poor mankind and how they’re all just misunderstood souls and not every man is like that, let me just say I’ve been propositioned, flirted with and pursued by a sizeable number of married men too.

It’s not the fact that they’re married and flirting with me that shocks me so much. It is the cool rationale that they feed into it. There’s the occasional ‘my wife and I don’t seem to be in love really’ bugger who hasn’t figured out that I never fall for the crybaby sop types. Then there’s the blatant ‘So?’ which at least I can counter with an equally blatant ‘So I’m not interested.’ with zero fear of hurting the guy’s seemingly non-existant sensitivity. And then there is the last one, the Advocate. I call him thus not on account of his profession (he could be a doctor or a mechanic for as much as it matters). He’s the best advocate ever, for cheating and he has his facts and evidence on hand. The jury may very well be his..it’s tempting to say the least.

This guy may be a Male Slut, he may be a charmer or he may not. The point is he has an almost breakproof logic about why it is perfectly legitimate, reasonable and valid to commit what I cannot think of as anything but adultery. There is the elaborately constructed dialogue over today’s moving social order liberally spiced with statistics about divorce rates, paternity suits and pre-nuptial agreements. There are references to Freud, Darwin and Einstein in a discussion about people’s relationships. There is the sweeping confidence that makes you alternately wonder whether you’re being old-fashioned and how he can be so cold and hot at the same time.

I’ve been flattered, appalled and insulted by offers of this type. And finally I come out of the fire of sin and temptation, I believe, unsullied. The last time I was made to endure one of these conversations, I finally said,

I don’t want to hear about whether the institution of marriage is valid anymore or not. It has sanctity for me because I say it does.

The thing that really bothers me is the fact that I seem to be carrying the onus of fulfilment of committment, of the guy to his wife. There is of course no denying that if I say no, he’ll just take his interest elsewhere. And what’s more, if I were to say yes, it would just fall on my lot to be branded that horrible name – the other woman, the one that messes with married men. And finally, it is the knowledge that it isn’t so much fear of social stigma that makes me say no, I say no because it doesn’t feel right.

It’s not my fault he got hitched too early or to the wrong person or for the wrong reasons. It’s not my problem that he has made a commitment that he doesn’t want to honor. And it’s never going to be ‘just sex’ for me. Or even if it is, ‘just sex’ doesn’t happen with someone who has made a public vow to not have sex with anyone other than the person he married.

Now let’s pull back a few steps. The above is when it reaches that critical point of deciding which way a friendship is going to go – platonic or otherwise. But how about that vast, grey area before that? Is it okay to watch a movie with a guy friend who just happens to be married? Is it okay to meet him for dinner? Coffee at midnight? Don’t these smack of dating?

The old ‘it is the intention that matters’ doesn’t hold. That’s not what real life is about. Real life is about human beings who experience attraction and relationship in fluctuating, varying tones every minute. And in a gray world, sometimes you have nothing but your own stubbornness to carry you through the tide (even if you’re all by yourself at the end of it).

I don’t have any answers and truth be told, I’m not looking for any. But I am certainly wondering if any of you has experienced what I’m talking about, from within the marriage or from the outside, like I have. And what do you have to say about it?

 of August 1, 2009