I popped out to confirm she was home safely, only to see her decked up to go out
Illustration/Uday Mohite
It was 10 pm, last night… I heard my neighbour, 19-year-old Natasha, aka Nats’ front door shut.
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I popped out to confirm she was home safely, only to see her decked up to go out.
“Rahul Bruh, hey, sup,” she said, double locking her door.
“Are you heading out, Nats?”, I asked, cautiously.
“(Eye roll) Bruh... no! I just double lock my door for fun.”
“Lose the attitude, please. Are going out partying… uhmm… dressed like … uhm… that?”
“(Double eye roll + ‘pffffff’) Dressed like what? What’s wrong with what I’m wearing? (nostrils flare + ‘pffff”).”
“Look, I’m as liberal as the next guy, but that dress, can it get any… uhh... it ah leaves nothing to the imagination.”
“So what’s the point you’re making, uncle?”
“I would prefer you wear something a little less uhm…”
“Revealing?”
I nodded.
“Rahul uncle, I left Hoshiarpur to get away from this ‘Big Brother Concern Masquerading As Conservatism’ and just my bad luck, I landed up next door to you. What were the chances of that happening (hand on hips, tea pot like)?”.
“Nats, if you...”
“Dude, just get off my back, you don’t have the right.”
“I understand. Good night.”
And I began to go back inside.
“Dude where you going, I’m not done venting!”
“Think we should just agree to disagree. You wanna go out attired like this, with your JLo figure... be my guest!’
“I don’t know if I should take that as a compliment, but seriously, don’t have a Menty B about my dress. Chill it yo!” she said.
“What’s a Menty B?”
“(Wide disbelieving eyes) Menty B… it’s so obvio! Mental breakdown.”
“Look Nats, you can wear anything you want, but if it gets the wrong attention, you know how it is, it’ll be all ‘your fault’.”
‘That’s fine.”
“It’s not fine. Aamir’s daughter wears a bikini on her birthday, she’s trolled, Suhana Khan is criticised for wearing a sexy sari for a Diwali bash. Enough already. It’s our frikkin’ choice!”
(Triple eye roll + steam from nostrils) You know Rahul uncle, I’m so done with you and the rest of your tribe deciding everything for us.”
“Tribe what tribe?”
“You guys... you you…UGGs.”
“What’s UGG?”
“Uncles Giving Gyan.”
“Nats come on... that’s unfair…what do we decide for you?”
“Ohohoh don’t get me started, everything—‘You’re wearing that?, ‘You can’t wear that!’, ‘You’re not wearing enough”, ‘You’re wearing too much’, ‘You’re exposing your legs’, ‘You’re covering your head’, ‘Eat now’, ‘Don’t eat now’, ‘Don’t eat today’—I’m so done with this relentless patriarchy. This humourless sanctimoniousness!”
(Thump of table)
“What do you mean by, ‘Eat now, don’t eat now’?” I asked.
“Dude… tell me that Karva Chauth in this day and age, is outdated. Why should one have to fast for the longevity of their husbands?”
“Why shouldn’t they?”
“Husbands should just do a quick daily 90-minute workout, instead of making their spouses fast for a day. Better for longevity, I say, and no one suffers.”
‘These are ancient Indian customs,” I attempted.
“Dude, tradition has no place in the Millenial age... cappeesh? These are one-sided customs… created to make a woman suffer by chauvinistic men. Name me one custom created in our favour?”
“Bhai Dooj.”
“Bruh, even on this day, I have to be the hard working one making his favourite dishes, praying for the long life of my brother, my asshole bro-in-law insists that my sister make him dinner after a whole day of fasting. Shouldn’t men also pray for our long life, dude? I tell you, patriarchy is in our DNA.”
“Hmmmm,” I said.
“Rahul bruh, this dude I was dating, has the cheek to tell me ‘I appreciate you observing Karva Chauth for me, even though we aren’t married’.”
“Why did he think that?” I asked, fascinated.
“(Eyes twinkling) Bruh! I’m on a new diet, it’s called Intermittent fasting. The moron mistook my intermittent fasting, thinking I was fasting for him!”
(Pause)
“Basically my philosophy to most men is W.O.M.E.N,” Nats said, spelling out the word.
“WOMEN... uhm does that stand for something?” I asked surprised.
“Yeah WOMEN spells out - We’re Over (your) Misogynistic Endless Nonsense!”
Rahul daCunha is an adman, theatre director/playwright, photographer and traveller. Reach him at rahul.dacunha@mid-day.com
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