Monthly Archives: November 2006

The smaller, louder half

We doesn’t know whether to feel good about being one of the few women on the blogsphere or annoyed in advance at the khee-kheeing and pirouetting that our male counterparts are going to be doing in response.

Why indeed are women being less expressive? After all these years of being described as the chatterboxes, the talking half of the world and all that…..this reminds us of one JAM session in our college days where we was the ONLY woman on the panel. All the guys were sweetly condescending and promised not to be too harsh on us. We guesses that they learnt a good lesson in when to be chivalrous and when not, when we walked away with the prize.

Hmph….we needs to tom-tom our achievements(?)to assure ourselves that women are indeed the way the world is running these days. Oh deyaam all those pop-psychology books, they only ends us confusing us.

Back to the topic on hand, women, for gawdssakes….sit up and take notice!! Its faintly insulting to have such little representation on the blogsphere…makes men assume that we don’t have anything of interest to say….and the whole world knows better than that, doesn’t it?

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Gay best friend needed

Wanted: One gay man
For: Being best friend to typical modern woman (details given here)

Now this is not a joke. This is not a lonely hearts ad and neither is we using our blog to get more male attention than we already has. This is an invitation to be good friend to us. Only gay men need apply.

Now allow us to detail exactly why we finds we have this requirement. We have just realized that we does need a man after all. A man is good to go to restaurants (and pubs and other social places) with. We does not mean just for the oh-so-shallow desire to look cool with date on arm (though there is that as well…we does get tired sometimes of being the ravishing singleton). For our selfish convenience there are loads of places that seem to open up to us provided we is with male company. Lets change that to….loads of places and timezones. This being a safe city and all that blah-blah, having a male escort still does ensure a certain heightened degree of security (in our mind and our family’s if nothing else).

We also realizes that we generally likes men. We certainly likes the way they feel. We is quite affectionate and prone to hugging, impulsively, ritualistically, lovingly and sometimes bone-crushingly. Now get that idea out of your sick minds, people…we just is a hugs person. While we quite enjoys the hugs that our sisterhood of women holds open to us, we knows well that a man’s body feels quite nice in a different way altogether. We do have a certain number of male friends whom we hug from time to time, but all of them being straight and men being men (what with one thing or the other…), we needs to ration our hugs and keep checking from time to time that the relationship (and hence the hugs) stay strictly platonic. This is a bloody pain as you may well imagine…having to ponder over something whose appeal is in how unthinkingly you do it…quite shatters everything. A gay man would be quite different..we just wouldn’t need to worry about him falling for us or us falling for him (Annoyingly ONE of those things seems to keep happening…never simultaneously though!)

We has never really known any gay men closely and we realizes that all that we reads and sees in the movies about gays could well be over-dramatized stereotypes. Indeed we has met at least one gay man (though we isn’t close to him) and he exhibited none of those traits…err, except perhaps a penchant for jewellery which he restricted to a bead bracelet and a shell on a string around his neck. He also was clean-shaven, had hair styled better than us and looked like he had just stepped out of a shower (something that we never manages to achieve even 2 seconds after we steps out of a shower…we always look like we got caught between time-zones and planets). Yeah, he looked great…but well, we could just as well say that about the metrosexual man, couldn’t we?

We is assuming of course that gays are just men except that they have emotions like women (including their sexual preferences…yes, that may be a physical decision for men but its an emotional thing with women).

We finds that straight men fall woefully short of our exacting standards when it comes to friendship. And errm…if they meet those standards then love or lust or both come into the picture ruining the whole thing (don’t ask us why lovers can’t be friends…that’s another post). Once we tried to convince Dee to turn gay but he turned and ran away instead. We has had some offers from straight men to be friends, some of them our ex-boyfriendses. However, typically us, we ask them suspiciously, “What’s in it for you?”. Please don’t ask us what answers we’ve received, suffice to say that an ex-boyfriend will never ask for something that you actually DO want to give! Typical female logic, we can hear them echo…

And that’s precisely the crux. If you’re male and can see the point in that, we’re willing to lay a bet (a small one…we isn’t a gambler) that you’d like men for the same reasons we do. In that case, do drop us a note, we’d be glad to talk to you.

We would like to believe in the value of male company without the complications of sex. Now here’s what you can find if you do find us.

You can expect us to be as catty and as appreciative of men as we thinks you might be.

We will be willing to take your advice on what looks good on us (and really believe you know what you’re saying!) We will NEVER make fun of any ‘unusual’ hairdos or dressing that you may choose to wear…we is an individualist ourself and we understands perfectly well what an ill-timed, “What on earth are you wearing??” can do to your soul.

We loves chocolate and recently discovered a certain weakness for wine. We will be perfectly willing to get drunk with you (which we has refrained from with past male company). And oh, if you wishes to get drunk, we volunteers to stay sober and take you home.

On to bigger things, we will be your support system (if you need it..because we will remind you that you are brilliant, you are beautiful, you are marvelous and do not need anyone!). Our number will be on your quick-dial list to call at 3 a.m. if you can’t sleep. We will give one black eye to anyone who makes fun of you (two if the offender is male).

We will give you as many hugs as we like (and you like!) and don’t worry, we will NOT try and sneak in a kiss, no matter how devastatingly good-looking you are. We tend to have a thing for men who do have a thing for us first, that way…

We will also, true to the female code of friendship conduct, never try to steal your man. And we will expect the same from you. Oh and yes…we will do everything in our power to widen your social (and dating) circle…all the while bearing what YOU want, in mind.

And most of all, we genuinely, really will RESPECT you. (That does not appear to be a top priority with the men we has encountered but we gets a feeling it might matter as much to you as it does to us.)

And now finally, we wishes to say that light-hearted as this post may seem, we says this in all seriousness. We are in serious danger of losing all belief in the goodness of 50% of the world’s population. And we think you may be our only hope of saving it! We does not wish to began hating all men. Now if we could meet just one decent man, we might turn that tide. And perhaps the way to do that is to meet a gay man.

Singing

Taking a cue from an ex- who believed in indulging the pain to make it go away, I have invested in a whole lot of movies on the far chance that I’d need to drown our pain in someone else’s sorrows. Actually it works.

So I watched ‘Bridget Jones’ diary’ last week for the second time in a month. I have several favorite moments in this movie (most of which include the delectable Firth in the frame) but I really lurrrrve the song underscoring the bish-bashing scene between Firth and Grant.

It’s raining men…hallelujah!

This might be my theme song at the moment…oh probably has been for a very long time indeed. Dreamcatcher wondered sometime back if it mightn’t be just men that are comittment-phobic. I tend to agree with her. I suspect I might actually be enjoying the rush of testosterone that seems to have engulfed my world this year.

But men, oh men, men….

The one I really like either does not know I exist or doesn’t care that I do.
The one I respect and do not treat as lab specimen, wonders why I don’t flirt with him.
When I say I’m leaving, they sigh in relief
And then look around in bewilderment with “What, you actually left?”

This species causes much mirth…and heartache too.

And having said all that, I have a song that I will sing (from the rooftops if it ever happens!) to the one who will finally be THE ONE.

There are places I remember all my life,
Though some have changed
Some forever, not for better
Some have gone and some remain.
All these places have their moments
Of lovers and friends I still can recall
Some are dead and some are living
In my life I loved them all.

And with all these friends and lovers
There is no one compares with you
And these mem’ries lose their meaning
When I think of love as something new
And I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them.
In my life I loved you more.

And I know I’ll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I’ll often stop and think about them.
In my life I loved you more
In my life I loved you more

Thank you John, Paul, Ringo and George for singing my soul long before I was even born or learnt to feel. This is really how I will feel…and I know it even before it can happen (if it ever will…but ah, we’s optimistic). And when it happens, I’ll be out in the streets singing. And it won’t be about the weather, this time.

Flirt-o-holic

Its certified! I’m a confirmed flirt-o-holic! Funny though, that while in the real world, the simplest flirting games make me shift uncomfortably from one foot to the other and change the topic, online I scatter fragments of my flighty, flirty personality like it’s confetti.

I have succeeded in flirting with a friend-woman (as opposed to woman-friend…men say that when they mean a woman they’re attracted to but don’t want to admit it!) and not made her run in the opposite direction screaming ‘WEIRDO”!!!

I have managed to pseudo-flirt with a longtime nemesis, the Evil Nandy by way of being vile back. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, ain’t it? Well, I have even propositioned him almost!!

And I now report perfectly normal, innocuous conversations that I’ve had with people I know read my blog, with ze dash of spice in a way that makes them wonder what I’m thinking and accusing me of being kinky.

I probably need a therapist. Ah, but I’m tempted to say

Also a lawyer, a doctor, a dentist, a salesman, a banker, an architect and a film-maker. Call separately…I don’t double-date! 😀

Manguide 1: Cities & Towns

Here are my stereotypes of the men I seem to keep coming against:

The Bangalore guy: Ah, this one is my favorite by far. He’s not as snazzy as the Dilli chappy, not as driven as the Mumbaiker and way too laid back to be the staid Chennai-ite. He seems to give off the air of enjoying being dominated, which I as a Mumbai girl, excel at. On the other hand, one of my dear friends from Bangalore described Rahul Dravid as

The typical Bengaluru boy….goodlooking and so duhhhh

I don’t know if that is true but ah well, I like them anyway. Maybe I’m chauvinistic.

The Chennai boy: Very polite and courteous but he doesn’t open doors or pull out chairs for me…he doesn’t seem to realize that’s what passes for chivalry in some places. He also apologizes each time a friend of his mentions alcohol or meat. And then after a long conversation with this Mumbai girl, he figures he should treat her like one of the guys so he lets me in on the secrets of his booze binges and parties, cooking chicken in buckets behind the hostels. I finds all of that very funny but I’m not in the least bit amused to know that he thinks of me as the wild, wanton Mumbai girl….and tells his family (and soon my family) that.

Mumbaiker: I wanted to call this an alliteration-ical ‘Mumbaicha mulga‘ but I realize that this species cannot be called a boy. These are the babies born with wheels on their feet. I loves this city and its mad men alike but I wish that they would have some time to think about things other than work and success. I get along well with this type, obviously since I am their female counterpart. Still, birds of a feather do not flock together always….and I am rather bored by these men inhabiting the same self-centered islands that I do, believe that the sun rises and sets on Mumbai.

Dilliwallas: Aaaarrrggggghhh….I loathe this type and not just because the worst of my exes was one of these. Objectively speaking, look for the smoothest shaven cheeks, the suavest talker….the one who knows all the right moves and how to charm you (Mumbaiker would reduce all that faff to the functional ‘patao-tactics’). The reason I do not like this type is that they’re so blatantly MCP and that for all their polished English and modern clothes, I get the sneaky suspicion he admires my figure more than my intellect, that when he compliments my hairstyle, he’s just imagining that its easier to drag me by the hair into the bushes. I do have a few friends of this variety but the reason they stay friends is that they have not tried the above tactics on me…..which brings me to the conclusion that Dilliwallas are very focused when it comes to women and don’t waste their time (and charm) on leads going nowhere.

The all-over-the-place: For whatever reason, I haven’t been in a relationship with anyone who fits this type. But I am enormously fascinated by them. I think they’re very lucky for the multi exposure that they have. I find that they are usually easy to get along with, quieter with no burning need to express their opinions. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t dated them as yet.

The non-metros: Some of my close friends are from the non-Mumbai, Delhi, Kolkata, Bangalore, Chennai places. Several from cities and towns which are nonetheless not metros. I like them but I wish sometimes that they wouldn’t try so hard to prove they’re like me…..it really isn’t such a great thing to be a citizen of the metros. Easy for you to say…one of them said. But he’s the one who saw poetry in the high-rises here while I could only see concrete jungles…..in my mind that makes him a higher order human being than me. Oh, if only he understood!

What’s missing? Kolkata….ah….I have never visited this city or dated anyone from here. But updates will be up, when applicable! I don’t t know too many people from places other than the ones mentioned here so inputs would be much appreciated!

Random XXFactor 55s

Men like teaching me stuff,
Educating me on how it all is
Sometimes things I already know
Occasionally better than them.

You never told me that!!

You never asked, dearie. And believe it or not, I am a good listener.

The odd thing is, no man likes hearing that. But they do enjoy being heard.

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

It’s a matter of focus, not straightforwardness
Having started on one thing,
It probably feels like a waste to not complete it

Maybe they wish the ‘Pause’ button worked in real life too
But instead, find that
Channel-surfing eventually leads back to the same place
With the shows still on
And just a different face

~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~o~

Actually I like most men
And care not a whit for women

But I respect women
Mostly a lot
For very little
And am scornful of men
A lot
For very little

I think men are okay, if you don’t let yourself feel too much
And women are spectacular if you don’t think at all.

Living on the LOC

This is what the stars have to say for me today:

The analytical side of your brain is about to do battle with the emotional side of your brain. Which side do you think will win? This prizefight won’t be bloody, but it will have a conclusive winner. The losing side will have to face a few unpleasant facts, and the victor won’t have much time to gloat. Luckily, you’ll be surrounded by fun people and exciting events for the next few days — these factors will help make your realization all but painless.

It is times like this that make me believe in astrology and remember why I was once a tarot reader. Last night I had a post forming in my mind, as clearly as I can see the words appearing on the screen now as I type them. And this astrological prediction sums up the situation as non-specifically as possible.

I’m living on the edge. No, I don’t mean the sex-and-drugs-and-rock-and-roll sort. I mean I’m living on borderlines….the line of control so to speak and each side is trying to pull me over to its side.

On one hand is the life I live as regards my family. My…let’s just call it ‘good Tamizh family’. That encompasses all the dilemmas of super-progressive thinking in terms of equal opportunity, confidence-building etc that I’ve been given while also the super-pressures of being religious, ritualistic, ‘family sort’, decent middle-class girl with utmost decorum and morals.

On the other side is the life I live, as regards my friends, my hobbies and a whole lot of other factors I can’t detail. If I’m a good Tamizh girl (not by choice but by extreme compulsion) in the first case, I’m a confident (if not over-abrasive) citizen of the Universe of Cool.

Thus far, I’ve managed to keep them both apart, with some difficulty but still successfully. It is getting to me…I swear it is.

A fortnight ago I met three women whose prime concern (and indeed a reason for concern since one of them is drifting into depression) is finding a husband. I laughed at it and thanked the powers-that-be for not letting it matter so much to me.

Last week I met someone who lives with her decade-older-boyfriend ‘in sin’ as my family would put it and I really envied her for the sheer freedom of being able to do something that breaks the shackles.

I’ve been dating a lot. I’ve had boyfriends, flings…and oh, everything I could want at any point of time and there still is a world to know about. My family of course remains blissfully unaware of several of these since I maintain the adage of ‘What they don’t know doesn’t hurt them.’

However, in my other avatar (and here’s where it gets to be really Jekyll and Hyde-like), I’m the dutiful prospective bride, doing the whole arranged marriage routine…int he modern way after all! So forget about the chai-serving routine, we meet in coffee shops, we talk on the phone and on email. And a few such interactions later, we decide whether to spend the rest of our lives together or not. It hasn’t changed. I won’t go into the right and wrong of it. Suffice to say, different systems work for different people, it certainly worked for my parents so I’m not going to judge its efficiency.

I just don’t know if it will work for me. I’m unsure at times, of how to behave in either case. I’m living a dual life that has gotten more seasoned with practice.

The fact is when I date a guy, I’m not sure whether I should be thinking of committment, especially since its obvious he isn’t. And then when I meet a prospective husband I don’t know if its right for me to be wanting to actually enjoy the date and laugh and have fun with him. It just doesn’t seem proper. On a date, I try to steer clear of the ‘boring family topics’ and make light of the M-issue…which isn’t lying incidently, because I do see the humour in the situation. On a ‘meeting’, I nimbly avoid all references to my implied ‘wild life’ (since I am a Mumbai girl after all, hence it follows I must be wanton and wild…or have the urge to at least).

It leaves me worn out. To be fair, I know its just a matter of knowing what I want and the person on the other side is more often than not, fortright with whether they intend to give that to me or not. But I’m not always sure. I’m always petrified that I’ll miss a cue and start being the ‘prospective bride’ with a date or the ‘fun girl’ with a matrimonial prospect. I suspect that has happened already more than once, and I have succeeded in scaring off the man in question. When that happens, I find I have relief mixed with regret for another man over and done with.

I don’t seem to be able to share this with anyone. Everyone else has made up their minds one way or the other. Prospective bride or sought-after date.

I want to be both. I want it all. Oh, well….you can’t be both Indian and Pakistani, can you? (with no political implications whatsoever except that the two aren’t reconcilable) And no one can live on the Line of Control for too long. The bullets are bound to get to you someday.

One way or the other, it looks like I’ll be choosing my nationality pretty soon. Passport office, here I come!

Loss of appetite

Saw her today, after over three months
She’s plumper
Longish hair falling over her face
She’s about as appealing as a browned, over-ripe fruit now

I don’t find her attractive anymore
Suddenly I empathise with the male habit
of falling abruptly in and out of love with a body

My brief bi-curious flirtation is over.

Girl talk

I went out with two women friends this weekend. As Dee who called me several times during the day put it, “Spent a lot of money? Bitched a lot about men?” Yes, yes, yes we did. For anyone who wonders what three women talk about….baaah…I hate the fact that three supposedly intelligent, attractive, single women meet and spend so much time talking about men! On the other hand, like the book I’m reading observes, women do talk about men, sometimes disparagingly but with a certain fondness. And who says two women (or even three) can’t stand each other? I had a rocking time! Read on for more…(I know I’m going back on what I said here, by spilling the secrets but…well, what the hell?)

The ‘Do not love me because I’m beautiful’ business

I wish I had your figure!

I wish I had your skin!

I wish I had your hair!

Yeah, if one of us had all three of this, she’d be every man’s dream

Arrrgghh…who gives a damn…who are these lousy men to dictate what we look like anyway?

A question of questionable taste

I remember the last blind date that you set me up for! He looked like he’d just stepped out of a facial, manicure, hair styling and personalized fashion session. I on the other hand was toting a jhola and walking around in flat-pancake sandals. I don’t like men who are so polished, I feel like I’m talking to a uniform, not a person.

Well, I don’t like the guy to look like a slob. I know I’m looking good, why shouldn’t he put in the effort too?

I didn’t say I liked slobs either. But not THIS much effort! I think I noticed my last boyfriend because of his dress sense. He was wearing red pants when I first saw him and I thought, “Oh wow, that takes some attitude to carry off!” And on our first date, he was wearing a tee-shirt and jeans and sneakers. And so was I. I felt comfortable talking to him and suggesting such silly things like a walk on the beach in the hot noonday sun. I wouldn’t have been able to do that with the other guy…I’d have been too intimidated and busy feeling like naughty little child.

*Rolling eyes*

Oh well, maybe its a good thing that the two of us never like the same guy.

Yes, ma’am…I, unlike you, do not have such questionable taste!

:p You’re just saying that because you didn’t like the guy in question.

Well I don’t like any of your boyfriends.

Why?

Because they are your boyfriends!

The eligible batchelor fantasy

I’m getting tired of this arranged marriage business.

Then give it up, na!

Can’t…you know what the pressure gets to be

Yeah I know…but I’m having fun with it now. First 20 years my parents try keeping me away from everything male and now they’re pushing them right into my life..my inbox, my message box, my mail and my calendar!

Arre…the other day I met a guy and he brought his mother along!

And I met one guy who said he liked shopping, especially for deodorants

Hmph….give it up, you’re never going to find a normal guy, there aren’t any!

That’s not true, I’ve been meeting loads of them

Yeah….where ever do you find them? You seem to have an unending stream of boyfriends

Blog! Party! Join the onliine networks! Make friends! They’re bound to have friends.

Well…I don’t subscribe to that point of view. None of your relationships have lasted.

Yes, that’s true, none of them were the ‘settling down’ type.

Well, I only want a man who wants to settle down.

I wish you luck then. You can either have interesting, ‘normal’ men or you can have the abnormal ones who actually do want to settle down.

I don’t think so.

Well, I hope not too, actually.

And I think you’re selling yourself short.

Yes, sometimes I think so too but other times I tell myself I’m just being realistic. Consider, I’m getting better, now!

How????

See, I started off with neglectful, graduated to abusive and now I’m doing the non-committal route. I’m getting to understand men 🙂

Yeah, you get to know all the ways a man can be a jerk!

They all are!!!

The ‘Which-friend-ditching-situation-is-worse’ question:

She’s my best friend, my voice of reason, my rock of Gibralter

Haan, haan….best friend, my foot, the last time I was sick you were out with your boyfriend!

Arre…c’mon…we were meeting only on weekends.

Boyfriend more important that best friend, now?

Hmph…you should talk, you promised me a girl’s day out today and you had to run off to meet some guy you’ve never met, whom you don’t even like the sound off!

Well….you know I just had to, didn’t you?

Yeah, I do. But are you meeting him again?

I don’t know. His father wanted to know what clothes I wear.

Did you tell him…bikinis and shorts.

*dirty look* Hmph….we said salwar-kameezes and trousers to work.

I don’t believe this…you actually answered that?

Yeah….and then he wanted to know what I wear at home!!!

@#%$&%$

*disapproving look* I thought of saying….saree with a ghoonghat.

I never have that problem. According to my family, I’m a Mumbai girl and that means I’m wanton, reckless, possibly lesbian and likely to kick my ageing parents out into the street any day now, so I can move my useless, pot-smoking boyfriends in!

Well you probably will, you know….you don’t even care for your best friend.

*Sour look*

That look doesn’t work with me, lady. I’m a Scorpio…I never forget.

Doesn’t work with me either….:-D

Yeah…it might work on some stupid man!!!

It should work on the types that pretend they know palmistry so that they can hold your hand…..or at least its catching their bluff!

The ‘same time next year’ promise

I’ll tell you what…let’s meet a year from now and discuss our husbands.

Do you suppose all three of us will be married in a year’s time? Somehow I doubt it….look at the men the two of you have met and the ones I’ve dated….none of them marriageable!

Yeah….

Let’s just get together and bitch then!

Woman’s woman

After all this while it occurs to me that contrary to all my earlier claims, I don’t really like men. Except sexually, that is. I don’t like the people that they make.

The only way I can like something male is if he:

Is less than 10 years old
Is gay
Is a friend

But I must elaborate on this last point. I don’t believe that I can be friends with men. Or let me put that as ‘I can’t be friends with people I think of as men’. The good friends that I talk about are in my mind, genderless beings. I have been accused of seeing people as their minds only. Sometimes people overcome that and if they happen to be male, and more importantly attractive males, then well…it just is doomed from there on.

I instinctively mistrust men. I am less sympathetic and nice to men. The ones that I’m playing some kind of flirting game with, this serves to add some spice to the interaction. But it doesn’t lead to friendship.

Women on the other hand, I relate to….well some women at least. I am definitely more respectful and accomodating of another woman, no matter how different she is. It is an odd but perfectly correct situation for me to loathe my ex-boyfriend but completely respect and even like his wife.

Perhaps its just that I’ve been generally attracted to ‘the wrong kind of man’. So there then. The kind of men I’m attracted to, I don’t really like and can’t be friends with. So much for wanting to be best friends with my soulmate then.

I’m a woman’s woman after all. Who would have thought?

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