Archive | March, 2014

Indians and the invisible chastity belt.

21 Mar

Before you can frown at the title and call me a racist, let me tell you this a broad generalization. We do come from a culture that wrote the kamasutra (sex manual) and yet we shift uncomfortably at the slightest display of any physical affection – hugging, hand holding, kissing or any form of PDA in general.There was a time when kissing in films involved the actors moving very very close to each other ( noses touch, but lips still apart) and titling head and sex was depicted as crashing waves or two flowers touching each other and other random crap like that.

We are also a culture where your virginity is everybody else’s business- be it the nosy neighbor, the lewd shopkeeper, the cousin that will tell on you, the aunt who reminds your parents what a girl’s limits are or the self appointed moral police that will drag out of pubs and onto the street only because – YOU DESERVED IT and they wanted to drill some sanskar into you. Try buying a pack of condoms and depending on your gender you will encounter one of the 2 scenarios:

Boy – Wink from the male shopkeeper and some insidious questions like -” How many packets you want?” and “This size is okay?”.

Girl – “what you want madame?” (pretending not to hear you), exclaiming loudly – ” Oh cundooome? (condom), You want flavor?” or some will even go one step further and make a sanskar quick fix  – ” Why madame all this”. Then they will proceed to wrap it up in newspaper (just like they do with tampons and sanitary pads) because no self respecting sanskari lady wants to be seen with a pack of latex condoms.

Most of our  adolescent pre-marriage years involves lying,especially to your parents. Our hormones are raging, our hearts our fluttering, we are blushing, gushing, kissing, texting and sex-ting and yet we wear our poker faces and pretend to lock our virginity in a box ( the key bearer being the HUSBAND).  Approved love is pure and lust is  aptly one of the seven deadly sins.

When, oh when are we going to break free from the invisible chastity belt? When are we going to be unapologetic and unabashed about our lives?

Screw it !


Windex Wars

19 Mar

Last weekend I was in my super cleaner mode. Game on germ bitches!

My cleaning routine usually goes like this – Change into cleaning clothes (old hag, de-glam,  no bra, loose t-shirt with pinned up hair), make myself a cup of tea to charge up and wage war against dirt and then look at the clock and go- hmpf may be ill start in 10 min, plonk myself on the couch, watch say yes to the dress, check out makeup tutorial on Pintrest and use my roomie as my muse. All but soon, cleaning is forgotten.

As the roomie was out canoodling with her boy last week, so clean – I did. I scrubbed, scraped, dusted, folded, de-moulded ( ok, may be that’s a lie- but I just wanted it to rhyme) and mopped. I was exhausted and just as decided to step into the shower, I glanced at the mirror in our bathroom.  Pretty girls need shiny mirrors. So I picked up the first cleaning liquid I saw – SCRUBBING BUBBLES (google it) and wiped down the mirror and went about my business.

A little later , the boyfriend walked in. I squealed and squeaked and told him how awesome I was, and how he should be amazed at the sheer awesomeness of my existence. He walked into the bathroom and saw HUGE white streaks across a now blurry mirror. WTF!. No one tells you cant clean the mirror with scrubbing bubbles- YOU MUST USE WINDEX.  We use scrubbing bubbles to clean the bath tub. 😦

The boyfriend practices bathroom liquid segregation. Bathtub liquid and mirror cleaning liquid CANNOT be inter used – BLASPHEMY.  And just like that the “scrubbing bubble vs Windex” war broke. It involved me screaming SCRUBBING BUBBLES and the boy friend chanting WINDEX. The boyfriend wanted to undo my unholy act and started wiping down the mirror with WINDEX, and I crossed over into rage mode and started re-wiping everything with SCRUBBING BUBBLES.  Minutes later, our hands were soapy, clothes were dirty and I screamed – “You dont care about me!” with tears rolling down my cheeks while the boyfriend gave me the “WTF!! how did we get there now” look.

Of course, all was forgotten when he later got me that sequin skirt, I’d been lusting after. 🙂


18 Mar

Turning 26 in 2 weeks! I love the anticipation and excitement around birthdays.

The midnight calls, waking up feeling special, having your Facebook wall inundated with warm birthday wishes, the boyfriend kissing you good morning, the outfit selection process, gifts aaaaaaand cake ( yes, I am shallow like that).  My besties and I have a birthday tradition – SHOPPING for the bday girl. Something I look forward to every year. To be fussed , oooohed , aaaaahed and gasped over makes me feel like a celebrity.  We try on outfit after outfit in pursuit of the perfect (read paunch hiding, instant slimming, sexy looking) birthday ensemble. This year was no different. And why should it?  You’d think I’d have grown ( and not just laterally) over the years. But no, I am still giddy like a girl in a candy store when I find the right  dress, shoes and accessories.

This year’s loot – 2 dresses and a skirt from the boy friend(make-up gift after a major show down). Now I am officially equipped to turn 26. Bring it on world!