Critically Emma

I woke up the first morning of this month to find my grandmother talking animatedly on the telephone. A date had finally been fixed for Bunty chacha’s eldest daughter, Twinkle, to be married and Beeji, my grandmother, who had played the match maker was obviously delighted. I, however, found this early morning dose of high pitched laughter and the rapid Punjabi, a 'lil nerve wrecking for my taste. Grumbling my way to the bathroom and ignoring questions about lehenga cholis and ‘matching’ jewellery hurled at me switched with the usual ‘good morning’, I couldn’t help feel sorry for Twinkle who had fallen victim to Beeji’s weird hobby, match making.

I darkly decided that the older members in families, often in the age group 50-so on, love playing Cupid and take it as their sole responsibilities to get the younger generation ‘nicely’ married. The weekly bhajan/keertan samarohs and the daily dose of fresh evening air, I discovered are actually undercover marriage bureaus where women like Beeji daily assemble and decide who to hitch with whom.

But I was soon forced to reconsider my opinion and wondered if it really is just a grandmotherly venture to be incessantly involved in fruitless match making meditations? Well, I soon discovered it was not.

For a girl who contemplates the next prospective ‘serious’ relationships of her best friends, I shamefacedly confess to be a minim replica of my grand mum. Further, every woman I know, and I know a lot many, confessed that, she has, even if it was for some fleeting seconds or on a very minor scale, played ‘Emma’ or more recently ‘Aisha’ sometime in her life.

All these facts got me even more interested on the subject and I wondered what is it about match making that excites and enthralls us, the women, so much? Well, I have heard that the world gets boring as we grow up and we tend to find comfort in the securities of the pleasant memories of our childhood and that the fairer sex being the one, more affected by fairy tales and the stories of the prince charming rescuing ‘the maiden in distress’ than the brawny race, thus tends to bring in elements of the same in her own life. Either too old to wait for her own prince charming now or too unsure to be able to think for herself, a woman willingly plays the benevolent fairy godmother for some others like her.

Moreover, if assistance be taken from Georgette Heyer, the creator of Regency England genre of romance novels, the ton (read the elite) always had women certainly on the wrong side of forty, often dressed in an amazingly youthful fashion and complete with a lively countenance painted in a lavish style, playing compassionate chaperons to their charge at Almack’s—a social club of young unmarried men and women. Way beyond the permissible age to be the eligible members of these clubs, the older women I sadly comprehend, contented themselves with the chaperoning.

But on a more serious note, it is needless to say that even the hardest of people like cute love stories and happy endings. And the women, the genteel beings, having a weakness for anything which comes within, even a millimeter of being cute or ‘aww-inspiring’, do not think twice before ‘helping’ in matters of such importance. But matchmaking or no matchmaking, love stories cannot cease to exist and if the interference of a fairy godmother saves the day in the end? Certainly, All’s Well That Ends Well.

The Roving Eye.

Men ogle up to ten women everyday, researchers have revealed. They spend an average of 43 minutes admiring girls- which adds up to a year in a lifetime… Women ogle up to six men for 20 minutes a day- or six months of their lives… Most women said it was a fella’s sexy eyes that first drew their gaze. With men it was a girl’s figure.

The sun, august 4, 2009

For some reason, this whole thing about infidelity, the roving eye, etc seems to be a very popular subject of late. I've seen so many articles about this in the ‘what’s hot’ section, it makes me wonder if it's some kind of  that "time of the year" thing with ‘The sun’ also helping in and giving in the necessary inputs from researchers as far as the roving eye is concerned.

It’s a commonly known fact that commitment doesn't stop one from craving for eye candy, but there is a difference between casting a passing glance and staring downright disrespectfully. Men will always check out other women just as women will sneak a glance at other men discreetly.  Even with the most gorgeous woman on his arm the man is bound to gawk at the other one walking past them, sometimes even in the complete knowledge of the former. So, if you think you are committed and don’t stand a chance of being a victim of your guy’s roving eye—think again. He could be sitting in his cubicle, standing with his friends in the cafeteria, studying in his class at college or just out grocery shopping, all the while checking out that ‘oh so hot’ girl’s ‘oh so hot’ butt while you sit here reading this piece of trash about his roving eye.

But if it's so prevalent and does not qualify as a crime punishable by law (yet,  but can definitely hope for a gynocratic society) what's the reason for the brouhaha. The problem is that while most of us, women, can deal with the roving male eye, they often find it difficult to deal with the emotional implications of the knowledge that their guy is lusting after someone else. Accept it, most men have a roving eye and can't seem to help themselves, and the sooner you accept it the less it is going to hurt you. 

The researchers talked about in ‘The sun’ blame the chromosomal-makeup in men for this problem, which has had women in a fix since the antediluvian age. Also, the most comforting detail of the whole research was that roving eye in men doesn’t mean that the entire race is full of suck-up cheaters and Casanovas in the plain ‘your guy’ garb. So, if its just the gene set up of our fellow brawny race which is to blame, we being the fairer and certainly the peacemaking race of the two, can offer a hand and set up a few norms to support our peaceful co-existence.

Like for instance, a normal woman would absolutely detest her guy for checking out the hot female next to them while he is walking with her. So, as long as the men don’t work up their eyes in the presence of the women in their lives and don’t brag about their ogling habits it stands ok. What and how they exercise their fundamental rights and freedom in person is not our business but in our presence it becomes slightly disconcerting and eh…irritating.

Thus, I’ve realized that the literal roving eye is more misdemeanor than felony. It doesn't bother me anymore as long as the once-over is quick and doesn't linger or keep repeating itself.

At a time when we can't read the news without stumbling into men who cheat on their wives with their "soul mates," or cheat with prostitutes, or may have fathered another woman's child, or who tried to buy their mistress' silence, what's a little looking? Even the most popular search engine goes by ‘go ogle’…doesn’t it? :)

MY 25

A couple of days back while surfing the net, I came across a note/blog (etc) by a very good friend, which had 25 awry points that according to her characterized her. With nothing more interesting at hand I decided to follow her footsteps and write something in a similar fashion. So... These 25 points that follow are the top 25 characteristic properties that make me… Happy Reading :)

1. I love cooking and google a lot of recipes. It works as a stress buster for me.
2. Its difficult to get me to sleep in the night and wake me up the following morning.
3. I am in love with the English language.
4. I am a Punjabi but I speak it awfully.
5. I am obsessed with my height (read: I think I am too short.).
6. I had a crush on a tall, dark, handsome columban guy I met at coaching and I still like him.
7. I like writing my name on the dewy bathroom mirror after I take a bath.
8.I am very protective and possessive about my two best friends, Shatla and Anisha.
9. As a child I often thought I was adopted till ...err...i told my mom about it who actually kept pointing out similarities in our appearances till i was convinced. :P
10.I have a chronic habit of canceling plans for much awaited meet-ups and parties towards the end.
11. I hate paneer and paneer dishes of all kinds.
12. I don’t like watching a lot of movies.
13. I am not much of a song person either.
14. I love the creamy mushroom sauce pasta at pizza hut and have it on all my visits to the restaurant, even if I have had it more than 50 times till date. :D
15. I have a very foul temper and think its cuz the Sun dominates my natal chart.(eh yeah..)
16. I use T9 mode on cell phones for typing sms and am hopelessly slow without it.
17. I have a crush on Ross from friends the sitcom since I was in the 8th grade.
18. I think I was Indira Gandhi in my last birth (err…yes…).
19. I am very emotionally attached to everything related to CJM(the church, the building, the satanical teachers and even columba's :P).
20. I love reading and writing about stuff.
21. I don’t really like my name.
22. I like smelling new books and notebooks.
23. I love reading the Archie comics.
24. I secretly am proud calling myself the ultimate agony aunt. (All my friends cry on my shoulder after their breakups.)
25. I mistook Sidney Sheldon for a woman and Danielle steel for a guy.

To be or not to be...

28th january, 2009

10:30 PM

Today, something very unusual but believable happened. I have this very close friend of mine, a very bad case of nerves, who called me early in the morning today scaring my wits out of me pleading her usual ‘we need to talk’ and asking me for a suitable time, when I thought we could ‘talk’. Groggy, in my ‘still in the bed and loving it position’, I suggested the evening would suit me the best when I could comfortably sit and think over a coffee, after the days work.

Ah…the call ended but my mind didn’t rest after that. My friend, however hyper n volatile she is, doesn’t call me that early for her ‘we need to talk’ sessions. I cursed myself and groaned in my bed trying to overcome the ‘urge’ to call her and ‘talk’. The day came and went and the talk stayed out of focus till I noticed eleven, obviously frantic yet determined missed calls on my cell phone.

Darn …I’d forgotten...’the talk’. My keyed up friend had certainly not lost hope and was still determined to get through when I picked up her next call and received a “where the hell do you think you keep your phone?”. Managing an apology I nudged her to get down to business…I was getting interested.

My friend a very good looking early 20 something year old girl had broken up with her tenth boyfriend a month and a half ago and till today had been loving her newly found freedom and single hood. Being an age old single personality myself I hadn’t found this ‘way of life’ anyway weird and (on getting to know about her tenth ‘emotionally heavy split’) had encouraged her to look around and discover what (read who) she desired for instead of torturing herself with another relationship bearing the likeness of the one she’d just ended. But …sigh…it wasn’t to be.

My friend wasn’t exactly loving my version of ‘the way’ and wanted me (why me???) to introduce her to a couple of MY guy friends over this weekend so that SHE could choose and go out with the best!(ah ..Right…). Now...Neither am I very protective of my guy friends like it seems when I write it that way (ah probably…I am…am i?) nor do I harbor any envious green feelings against my friend (after all its my choice to follow my version of ‘the way’) for feeling free to choose from my list of the eligible guys on the block but am certainly taken aback for some reasons and the others.

Mostly because she says she is sick of being single and now ‘wants’ a guy to ‘prove’ (what??) to people that she is still wanted and can have guys swooning over her everywhere. When I argued with her that she could very well let them swoon around her and still be single, the logic was lost on her. She said that she was feeling her other girlfriends had started hiding their boyfriends from her (lest they start swooning too) and that she desired for that someone who’d take care of her and hoped it would label her safely committed around others. (what?!) She even felt she’d begun getting insecure she’d have no one for her if she doesn’t start looking for Mr. perfect eleven(she just dumped her perfect tenth…)soon. uh uh!
Sigh… In short the lovely lil ‘angel’ (her sixth had called her that) wanted to go back to her committed self and once again start throwing her weight around on some poor guy who’d struggle incessantly to cope up with tantrums the last ten endured.

I am sure we all have met many like my friend here or (err...) ourselves struggle everyday from staying away from that ‘oh so handsome boy’ in class/at office (or wherever), we would want to go out with but know would eventually turn out like the one we’d just dumped (or got dumped by :o ). I don’t understand why we don’t stop and ask ourselves for a change, what exactly do we want? Or is it that we don’t know what we want?

My friend says she usually whistles ‘interested’ and pounces at the first guy with the necessary checks on the list (she has a checklist for the type of guy she considers perfect!) who wants to go out with her or the first guy who looks eligible to her to be introduced as ‘her guy’! This Trial and error is her way of finding her perfect (but final) prince charming number blah blah blah who she says she’d finally live happily ever after with. Sigh… I hope that happens some time soon. Meanwhile I’d better go and make a list of some eligible people we’d meet this weekend for coffee/lunch/dinner.
Sigh…