Missing me!

I returned to FB after a hiatus of 8 long years.

You may ask why did I leave in the first place. That would be a good question. I hope I have a convincing answer; at least, I hope my answer convinces me!

It was a period in my life that was quite bleak. Things weren’t going the way I wanted them to; not that they are doing so now. Whatever little control I had over my life was slipping away all too easily. My job as a Business Development Manager was not developing at all. I was passing thru a challenging mid-life crisis. And the domestic front was rife with unpleasantness.

I had just been on a fortnight long business trip to the Isle of Wight, UK. Thereafter a short stay in London had completed my travel. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing mundane either. I got to see a lot of places, went sightseeing and made new acquaintances. All in all, I had a lot of ‘masala’ for my FB account which as expected gathered many eyeballs.

And then… the ‘Hack’ happened. Frivolous posts started appearing on my FB page, inappropriate photos were being uploaded, unscrupulous comments were being written, irrelevant links were being shared – and none of this was being done by me! Someone had apparently hacked my FB account!

How could this happen? Had I unknowingly allowed access to my account? Did the bad guy look over my shoulder when I was typing in my password? Was there a setting that was wrongly selected? Wasn’t the security software doing its job? Did I overlook a privacy issue in my enthusiasm to post? I didn’t know. All I knew was that the semblance of control which I thought I had over my life was shorn of its veneer, my self-esteem mocked, my pride hurt. Life, had taken a wrong turn.

Well, I had to stop this. So, I changed my privacy settings, restricted access to my pages and photos. (I even bought a paid version of the Anti-virus software for my computer). Nothing worked of course. Then I consulted all my IT friends – the ones who seem to know more about computers and software. They offered their best solutions (sic) – of course none worked.

I was at the mercy of some hacker who had stolen my digital identity. My life as the world knew it was being scripted by an unknown author. My peaceful virtual world was shattered. The other ‘me’ was no longer me.

Finally, I took the matter to the Police Cyber Crime Division. At that time, they were still a nascent department working out of the Police Commissioner’s office. They listened to my grievance patiently, jotted down the details, asked pertinent questions and lent an official shoulder for me to cry. One would think that I had made the right choice by approaching them and that my problem would be resolved. But that wasn’t to be. They managed to convince me that getting details from the FB servers outside the country would be next to impossible especially since the matter had nothing to do with national security nor the person involved was a celebrity. In short, I was told to let it go.

I did let it go.

Not the hacking part but my FB presence. I sent a caution to all my contacts that the posts on my account were not mine. Then with my tail between my legs I retreated and stayed away from social networking.

If you now tell me that it was a stupid move on my part then I couldn’t agree with you more. Looking back, I think I may have overreacted by shying away from networking. Since then, hindsight and several other reasons have prompted my return to FB.

So there begins my story.

Over the past two years humanity has been humbled like never before and that too by a microscopic organism – a virus. The Covid pandemic has brought us distraughtly close to death. Now more than ever are we wanting to reconnect with our near and dear ones. Now more than ever are we becoming social animals that we were always meant to be – bringing with it all other social postils such as ‘no man being an island’, etc. with it.

So, I am back.

All my friends sent me ‘Likes’ upon my return – which made me feel good. And now I want to post, in fact my fingers are itching to post – a trivial message, a photo of a dog or hills or similarly boring stuff, some feel-good video, a much-forwarded funny article. Ladies and Gentlemen, the virtual me is raring to go. I want to scroll down years of updates and read about who has been doing what with whom, how the world survived without my inputs, etc. I am being engulfed by overwhelming attack of FOMO.

Then there is this friend who upon my return quietly remarked “Don’t worry, you haven’t missed much.”

Have you ever pricked a balloon and seen it deflating? That would aptly describe my state. What? What do you mean by saying that I didn’t miss anything? Did the world stop moving when I was away? Did everybody pack up and go to networking wilderness? Don’t you know that my job keeps me away at sea for months and I have no way to know what’s happening in the world? Don’t mess with me by saying that I missed nothing. What do you mean by saying I didn’t miss anything?

The inner ‘me’ however was more interested in knowing if I was missed. Did anyone miss me? Anyone? Hello?

The celebrated author Robin Sharma wrote a book titled ‘Who will cry when you die?’. Some excerpts from the book –

“We live in an age when we have forgotten what life is all about. We can easily put a person on the Moon, but we have trouble walking across the street to meet a new neighbor”.

“We have e-mail, fax machines and digital phones so that we can stay connected and yet we live in a time where human beings have never been less connected”.

“We have lost touch with our humanity”.

“We have lost touch with our purpose”.

“We have lost sight of the things that matter the most”.

My friend is right. In the end I guess it doesn’t matter at all. There were other ways to connect with people. And if you have been away then it’s okay. Life goes on.

“What about the hacked account?”, you may ask.

Dang! you had to bring it up.

I guess I’ll have to deal with it. Here’s a thought though – as I haven’t been active on FB for all these years, maybe, just maybe, the hack may not happen again. But you know what, I’ll be a monkey’s uncle if it happens again.

The Better Half ...and a Half

My friend texted me a message recently. It went something like this…..

“Sorrow is our constant companion; Happiness comes and goes”. So the wise guy says, “You are right - my wife is constantly with me, but her sister comes and goes”!

This reminded me of a cheeky Hindi saying – ‘Saali aadhi gharwaali hoti hai’ (meaning, the wife’s sister is half a wife, meant with a corny twist, of course!)

Not having being blessed with such marital affiliations, my wife being an only daughter, I have always pondered the extent of truth in these homilies. Is it really half the trouble and double the pleasure? Ek par ek Free, free, free…..

I dunno. Maybe there is as much truth in it as I would like to believe. And then, maybe not. Those having the good fortune (?) to have a ‘saali’ would be better placed to answer this question.

Probably it is just another unrequited fantasy of every male. The unspoken attraction for the younger one, who, will always remain younger than the one whom you married.

There is a Tamil joke on this as well. It goes like this…..

The wife looks rapturously at the TajMahal and lovingly asks her husband,
“Naan chetta piraghu nee yenna ketuve”.

The husband nonchalantly replies,
“Won tangichiye ketuwen”.

(Wife: ‘What will you build after I am dead’; Husband: ‘I shall marry your younger sister’ – the word ‘ketuve/en’ implying both ‘to build’ and ‘to marry’ in the colloquial). Bear with me on this, the translation does not do justice to the humour.

Anyway, the husband’s readiness to accept the sister of his spouse speaks for itself.

Having said this, I pity all those poor husbands who would be at the receiving end of the wife’s wrath after having expressed such a desire. Followed by some of these typical scathing remarks….

“Mujko to sambhaal nahin pa rahe ho, doosri ko kaise sambhaalo ge?” (You aren’t able to put up with me, how the hell will you put up with another?)

“Maine tumse shaadi ki, yahi tumhare liye bahut hai, doosri ki kya baat karte ho” (You are lucky that I married you, don’t even think of another)

Jokes apart, I always wondered how a man could manage two women at the same time and be married to them as well. I have married one, so I can say that I am managing one; which is a rather polite way of saying ‘I am being managed by one’.

As it is, a man has enough difficulty in trying to re-arrange life’s priorities to the whims and fancies of his wife. And it is nigh impossible to outwit, outsmart, out-talk and lately ‘out-live’ them. Those who claim otherwise are outright Liars - I know, I’ve lied too….sometimes. Goes to prove, doesn’t it? – that men are liars.

Just think about it…. One Man + Two wives = double the expenditure + double the regret + double the effort + double the misery.

You praise one’s cooking and you can be sure the other will poison you; you appreciate the beauty of one and the other will scar you for life; you satisfy one tonight and the other will cause you an apoplectic death tomorrow night.

Then there will be the naggings - which would now come from two directions; the orders – which would have a Dolby Stereo effect; the threats – which would be in concerto; and the killing glares – which would be twice as deadly.

Who in his sanest mind would want a Double Whammy Death?

But Men are fools, and have been known to commit the darnedest acts.

Many a man has married more than one woman. And survived! History is replete with such disasters.

Yeah, wonders never cease. Upfront, it would seem like right out of Ripley’s ‘Believe it or not’. But it is not so. Society has evidence aplenty. Even the educated, rich and famous have fallen prey to such an affliction and have paid the price.

Leading the way are the Stars of Tinsel Town.

So many prominent yesteryear and contemporary Film stars have walked this path. Marriage to a second woman when the first is very much alive is probably fashionable for them. Pre-nuptial agreements, Divorce and Alimony are now considered ‘Good Practices’. I guess a film star is not worth his salt if he hasn’t had at least one such arrangement.

And to justify their actions they have made movies on this theme as well which depict polygamy as fun. Scratch the surface a bit and one would find that this thought borders on chauvinism – another way to say that women are just playthings. Sadly, our society lives with this injustice.

Our Politicians are not far behind either.

The ex-Chief Minister of one Indian state has three wives. One President of the US of A had an extra-marital affair which pushed him up the popularity charts. He went on to complete his full term. And who has a count on the number of wives of the sheikhs of the Arabian Gulf.

Are they making a political statement here, showcasing their multi-tasking abilities? Maybe its “Hey, look here, I can manage more than one woman, so managing a nation is just child’s play”. There is a serious flaw in that argument. But who would wanna’ tell them?

How about Sportsmen then? – the epitome of absolute physical skill and talent – adored by millions, loved by their fans, honoured for their accomplishments. From Golfing legends to Cricketing heroes, many have succumbed to this basal desire.

Is it only to be in the limelight or do they consider it a just reward for their superhuman performances?

Believe you, me, this is not a recent phenomenon either. History tells us otherwise.

Haven’t we heard of the Greeks and their decadent orgies? - A conjugal relationship with one woman just wasn’t enough for them. And they didn’t want to tarnish their reputations by getting tagged as philanderers either. So they did something extraordinary, they instituted orgies - a mad medley of celebration and revelry where wine and women are consumed with passion. Once accepted by society, there was no sin in it. Try and beat that!

The Egyptian pharaohs were not far behind either. They had their multitude of queens and concubines, at their beck and call. In the 1988 movie, ‘Coming to America’, Eddie Murphy puts across this thought in a rather indiscreet way when he emerges out of the swimming pool with half a dozen of his female attendants rising with him, leaving the viewer to his own obvious conclusions.

And the Mughals perfected this art of debauchery. The harem occupied a special place in every Mughal empire. An emperor’s greatness could be judged by the occupancy rate in his harem. This inglorious royal custom was eventually said to have been given social recognition and respect by none other than the Azeem-o-shan-Shahenshah, Akbar the Great, who himself was rumoured to have over 33 wives.

On a broader perspective, one could argue that men are mere mortals and cannot be blamed for their deeds, when the gods whom they worship have committed the same sins.

Look at Hindu Mythology for instance. So many Gods are depicted with two consorts. Even the bad guys, the Rakshasas (demons) sport more than one wife. Indeed some of the epics are based solely on this theme. So how can we blame the mortal man for having divine ambitions?

Some would justify this as a mere aberration. Indeed many rationalize these relationships by terming them as ‘Marriages of Convenience’. Are they really now?

Circumstances forced the founders of Islam to proclaim Four wives for the Muslims. But that was some millennia ago. Today that dictum is being blatantly misused by the faithful as well as the kafirs. Isn’t it a rather pathetic way to impose masculine superiority?

In the Biblical era, King David is said to have had six wives. And King Solomon - he had hundreds of them! What was he – the king of good times?

Somewhere down the ages though, the distincition between polygamy and adultery seems to have blurred. And so it was that Judaism and Christianity declared certain commandments which specifically addressed these issues. ‘Thou shalt not commit adultery’ and ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neightbours wife’ – you couldn’t get more direct, could you now?

But those commandments remained in the books. Man found it easier to commit sin and that too a sweet sin such as the neighbour’s wife. Blasphemy!

On the other hand isn’t it strange that these rules do not apply to women. Have you heard of women getting married to more than one man and living with both?

Polyandry!

How many times do you read about it in the newspapers? Once, twice?

But I can be sure of one thing though - the rate at which the male-female population ratio is going downhill, it won’t be surprising if Polyandry becomes a law, say, sometime in the next few hundred years.

The epic ‘Mahabharata’ tells us that Draupadi, the Pandava Queen-apparent, was associated with five husbands. Imagine that, it must have been a nightmare for her, juggling her husbands.

Could we quote Elizabeth Taylor as an example then? But then, she was never married to more than one man at any given time.

So, who else? Maybe Google will have the answers.

The Tibetans have a tradition of fraternal polyandry where a woman would marry a man and all his brothers. This was done more out of social and financial compulsions rather than mere physical attraction.

One could also find polyandry being practiced among the pastoral tribe of Todas in South India; again, this is done solely because of social restrictions only, though a little bit of amour is involved.

By and large, polyandry is not an accepted custom.

It takes more than a lifetime to understand a woman. I dare say that it is easier to misunderstand them or not understand them at all. Sharing a life with her, satisfying her needs and giving up all that he owns, all for her - is probably man’s biggest challenge.

A Man may conquer great lands, he may control the mind of the populace, he may discover and invent wonders, but if he hasn’t accepted women as equals then he would never ever be the real ‘Maryada Purushottam’ – the paradigm of manhood.

Yeah, all nicely said and written. But how does Adam brush away the itsy-bitsy itch that he has for Eve’s sister. She is young, she is smart, she is beautiful and she is single - all the qualities which Eve had before she married Adam.

Can someone please tell him how in the hell does anybody get away with two women?

Even in the Stone age, Fred Flintstone had only Wilma as his wife, and his friend Barney likewise.

Call it foolhardiness, if you like. But Adam wants more.

Richard Gere tells Julia Roberts in the movie ‘Pretty Woman’, that he wants her at his ‘beck and call’, to which, she replies, that she would be his ‘beck-and-call girl’. If Julia Roberts is going to be a ‘beck-and-call’ girl, show me a man who doesn’t want to be in Richard Gere’s shoes.

Dining out with Eve, Adam keeps looking at the other women in the Garden of Paradise. Eve is not amused. ‘Hey’, she says, ‘what’s going on’? ‘What’, retorts Adam, Just because I have ordered my food doesn’t mean that I cannot look at the menu! Beat that logic, you!

Then of course, there was this joke which goes like this…….. Eve suspected Adam of having an extra-marital affair. To which Adam remarked “Are you Crazy? Just look around, who else is there? But that never stopped Eve. Even today, when Adam is sound asleep, she surreptitiously lifts up his T-shirt and counts his ribs!

Maybe King Khan has a solution for this. The undisputed superstar of romance in Bollywood, Shah Rukh Khan, wears the garb of two different personalities in order to woo one woman in the movie ‘Rab ne bana di Jodi’. One is the husband who wants to be her lover; the other is the lover boy who wants to be her husband. Remember, Men are Liars.

Just think about it – One Man, Two identities, One Wife, meaning twice the love, double the pleasure, half the expenditure, no regrets!

Would you then have the better half and a half?

The Hypocrite

I saw him first…….when I was a child.

He looked like me…….but was not me. He was.......well.......different. Or was he?

I have seen him grow.......with my own eyes. Yet I find that he has not grown up at all. There is a lot in him that I can identify with…….yet, there is more that I just cannot. Over the years I have tried to understand him…….I dare say now that I know him better than I know myself.

But there is a side to him which is beyond comprehension. Moral values, social obligations, virtues of life – these are stuff that guide a man’s life…….but he is devoid of them. Somehow ‘change’ has bypassed him.

There is so much about him that I do not like…….Indeed, some of his traits are abhorrent. Oh! How I wish he would not be the way he is.

He never speaks up for himself…….let alone for others. He was taught not to…….for fear of being ostracized…….by his loved ones, his peers, and his society.

He never stands out in a crowd…….rather he prefers to be just one among them. He accepts safety in numbers.

He always flows with the tide than against it…….something akin to letting the crowd push you into the compartment of a Mumbai local…….rather than finding your way through them.

I can never term him a ‘non-conformist’…….after all, it takes courage to speak out, to grow against the grain. Simply put…….he is a coward and doesn’t mind being one…….for he knows well.......that Cowardice is a way of life filled with comfort and convenience. Courage on the other hand requires conscience.

Conscience.

Something he has buried long ago in the recesses of his mind and forgotten. It is a wasted virtue for him.

He fools himself into believing that everything is just fine…….when they are actually not.

He does not confront life…….he chooses to look away. When he does look at the world…….he prefers to do so thru rose-tinted glasses.

The fool that he is…….he doesn’t realize that rose-tinted glasses show only one colour…….No, it is not the colour Pink…….it is the colour of Blindness.

Doesn’t he know? –

That which he does not want to see, still is;

that which he does not want to hear, still speaks; and

that which he does not want to know, still exists.

Speak no evil, See no evil, Hear no evil…….a motto I was taught in childhood. He lives by another – ‘Speak no……., See no…...., Hear no…….!

And it doesn’t end there.

The games he plays are all so wrong. I think Eric Berne, the psychiatrist, must have had him in mind when he wrote the book ‘The Games people Play’.

Take a classic example…….The blame game…….an art perfected by him.

He finds faults in others…….that are just a reflection of his own.

He criticizes other people for their beliefs and deeds…….which are actually the same as his.

Lies, malice, mischief…….just to show that he is better than his neighbour.

I have always wondered why he is the way he is.

Who is he fooling? Definitely not the others…….it has to be himself.

How can he condone his actions…….and condemn others’?

His world is no different from yours or mine. How can he be critical of you…….and smug about himself?

This world is definitely not for these types. The meek shall never inherit the earth. One only has to look around…….and learn about survival. Darwin stated it oh-so-clearly…….only the ‘fittest’ shall come through.

When will he learn to take a stand…….and not hide behind words?

When will he fire the musket and take the recoil on his shoulders…….and not on someone else’s?

When will he learn to accept his mistakes?

Nobody is perfect…….Neither he, nor I.

When will he learn that he is not God? Even God was not infallible…….he made this man…….didn’t he? And he is not alone…….there are many like him.

I see this man everyday.

Every day I look into the mirror…….the face that stares back at me looks more and more like the person whom I never wanted to be.

I am the Man in the Mirror.

I, Hypocrite.

Beast and the Beauties

It was a very sad Sunday.

The girl next door was leaving.

Heartbreak!

What would I do now? Who would I slyly look at now, thru the half-opened front door, when my wife was busy? On whom would I throw my stolen glances during the neighbourhood parties? How would I get my cheap thrills and jollies?

As the old band ‘Smokie’s song goes –

I don’t know why she’s leavin’ or where she’s gonna go,
I guess she’s got her reasons but I just don’t wanna know,
Cause for 24 years I’ve been livin’ next door to ………(Er… in my case, it’s more like 24 weeks)

Life had just reached a dull spot, an impasse, a gloomy existence filled with mundane and trivia.

And while I was wallowing in despair, my wife was quietly smirking. I guess she was waiting for this day. She has tried her best during all our married years to get rid of my ‘glad-eye’. Usually what she couldn’t do herself, circumstances would force it. She calls it natural justice.

Don’t get me wrong here. I am neither a womanizer nor a flirt, neither a ladies’ man nor a pervert. I consider myself a connoisseur. As the saying goes ‘A thing of beauty, a Joy forever’ – I appreciate beauty when I see it – a concept which I’m still trying to convince my wife, especially since it is someone else’s beauty and not hers.

One comedian put it rather aptly – the wife asks “why do you look at other women when you are already married”, to which the husband replies “just because I have ordered a meal at the restaurant, it does not mean I shouldn’t look at the menu”.

Women are by default beautiful creatures. One has to only look at the feminine form to understand the glory of nature and to know the true meaning of words such as ‘grace’, ‘lithe’, ‘lovely’, ‘supple’, ‘lissome’, ‘svelte’, ‘sensuous’, etc.

And that’s that. Period!

The moment one crosses the boundaries of appreciation, a Pandora’s Box of Sin opens up, which is very easy to succumb to. As long as one is within the ambit of it, one can experience the romance associated with such beauty.

It is for these beauties that men have penned poetry, sung paeans, written ballads and crooned melodies.

‘Tujhe chaand ke bahane dekhun, tu chat par aaja goriye’………….
…..sang Mohammed Rafi in his mellifluous voice.

(I shall gaze at you instead of the moon, Come up on the terrace baby).

The English translation of the lyrics does not do enough justice to the feelings behind the words.

I am neither Don Juan nor Casanova, but I am Human and a Man. I succumb easily to the charms of a Woman. A girl in blossom has to pass me and my heart threatens to leap out of its mountings. The dry Adrenaline well in my body suddenly fills up. My roving eyes become loose in their sockets. And the deep sub-woofer like sounds that you hear is my heartbeat gone wild.

I call this exhilaration; my wife says I look like I’m having a heart attack.
I call it passion; she thinks I’ve gone silly (happens in the 40’s);
I call it ‘timepass’; she calls it ‘Middle Age Syndrome’.
I think of it as a harmless pre-occupation, my wife considers it reason enough for some woman to slap me.

And she may be right. ‘Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour’s wife’ is an age-old commandment. Many a battle has been fought because of it. Many a war has been driven by this basal desire.

The Trojan War was fought over Helen of Troy;
The Roman Empire’s downfall began with Gaius Octavinus’ conquest of Cleopatra;
Even Bheeshma Pitamaha lost his kingdom’s throne because of his father King Shantanu’s amour for Satyavati!

But then, Old habits die hard.

A composition by Musician O.P.Nayyar aptly describes my life.

‘Hum hain raahi pyaar ke, hum se kuch na boliye,
Jo bhi pyaar se mila, hum usi ke ho liye’

(I am a traveller in the lane of love, don’t reprimand me,
Those who meet me with love, I belong to them)

(Oh my God, the translation sucks)

My wife once developed a unique way of reacting to this unsociable behavior of mine (as she puts it). She retaliated by whistling at every passing Stud and Adonis, thinking that this would get my goat and end my flirtatious behavior. Unfortunately for her, things didn’t work out as she thought they would. The men she ogled at took it as an invitation to greater things. After a couple of near misses she became wiser and stopped these antics. And there ended her strategy.

The guiles of the female species have overpowered the gullible male since life began on planet earth. The charms of the fairer sex have attracted and captivated many a man’s heart, mind and soul. A slight raise of an eyebrow, a slant of those eyes, a pout of the lips, a disobedient curl of hair falling over her cheeks, a lilt of the slender neck, a peek-a-boo of the bosom, a wiggle of the hips, a hint of a thigh, a dainty lift of an ankle; any of these could bewitch a man and make him lose his senses. A woman’s presence is enough to disturb the balance of order in a man’s perfect world.

I must admit, though, their presence is what makes life worth living and also the reason d’etre for survival. I have long ago realized the irrefutable power, the uncompromising devotion, the unfathomable compassion and the limitless love that a woman can display.

Women are intrinsic in the scheme of things which God devised. The plethora of Devis in India, Goddesses in Greek and Egyptian mythologies, Queens in lands far and great are ample proof of the exalted position they have occupied in a man’s world.

History is also witness to the fact that matriarchal societies have fared better that patriarchal ones. Walk into any household in which the head of the family is a woman and one can immediately discern the difference in governance.

A little boy called Shivaji was groomed by his mother to be a great Chhattrapati;
A brave girl fighting against oppression went on to become the Rani of Jhansi;
A woman called Priyadarshini took the reins of a nation in hand and became synonymous with it - India is Indira, it was said;
Yet another woman captured the hearts of every citizen in its land and Eva Peron of Argentina remains etched in memories;
A frail woman adopted a foreign land, nursed its sick and oppressed, taught us hope and mercy, and stood on the doors of Saint-hood - Mother Teresa - a mother to all;

The list is too long to be enumerated.

But long before a man learns to respect a woman, he sees her as an anti-parallel to himself and sometimes as an antidote. Before she becomes an adversary, she remains his single biggest adventure. The harder-to-get, the greater his desperation. A man can make a fool of himself in order to gain the attention of a woman. Some even kill and get killed too. The more he tries to tame them, the more he gets tamed.

But they remain, as yet, an enigma!

So I have taken the easier route. I find it far easier to fall prey to bewitching looks, sashaying walks, and sexy bodies.

As for my wife, well, she has now resigned to her fate that I shall be a dirty old man; much like the incorrigible trio of Ashok Kumar, Utpal Dutt and A.K.Hangal in the timeless 1981 classic movie ‘Shaukeen’. I can already imagine myself standing in my balcony, eyeballing every sweet little something passing by, and singing…....

“Jab bhi koi kangana bole,
Payal chanak jaaye,
Karoon jatan lakh magar man,
Machal machal jaaye……”
(translation -
Whenever any bracelet rings, and anklets chime,
No matter how much I control myself, my heart flutters)…. or something to that effect.

Now let me tell you about the silver lining in my otherwise dark clouded life. A new girl has come to live across me. She is a dish, a peach, a real looker. An absolute knockout and a man-trap.





P.S.: If my wife reads this you would think she would get upset. Naaaahh…. She knows a lost cause when she sees one. Even if she does get upset I know what to do. There’s nothing a bit of cajoling, a song, a freshly baked pie, a new dress and an outing at the beach can’t resolve. For everything else, there’s MasterCard.




P.P.S.: Don’t’ believe everything I say. There is something I haven’t told you yet. Like the day my next door girl first spoke to me.

Ah! The moment is etched in my mind. An unforgettable experience!

This is how it went…..

As usual, I was fooling around at home one day when the doorbell rang. I opened the door and there stood the neighbourhood goddess. At once I went into a trance. Visions of paradise floated in my head. Then she spoke. With a lovely cadence I heard her say, “Uncle………..”

I don’t remember what she said next. My libidinous balloon was punctured with her first word. A single carelessly thrown word had taken the wind out of my sails. The cruelty of the moment overpowered my emotions and I slithered back to the depths of my house. Till date I don’t know why she had come over.

And then the other day, I was surfing the channels on TV when I accidentally happened to pause on FTV. The Aphrodites walking the ramps caught my eye. My daughter sitting next to me immediately reprimanded me saying “Don’t even dare look at these women. There are only two beautiful women in the world – one is your daughter, the other is your wife!”

And that folks is Satyam (Truth).

The biggest con – ‘CONTROL’

Singapore, Malaysia, Hongkong, China, Dubai, Paris, etc, even India for that matter - these are shopping havens, where one has to take some basic, gut-level decisions in life. And one of those decisions calls for making a definitive choice between one's Credit Card and one's Wife! 

If one chooses to hold on to the Wife (which is what most of us would do anyway), then one loses custody of the Credit Card (which then goes to the Wife - mayhem); If one chooses to hold on to the Credit Card (which is what one would want to do - freedom) then, one loses the Wife to another (who has a give-away Credit Card – freedom of another kind). 

These shopping destinations not only are among the chief wreckers of home, family and peace but also they bring in an absolute awareness for man. Which is – that he is not in control of the situation. An awareness that any man hates to be acquainted with. 

Why can't a man have the Wife and the Credit Card? Not in that order anyway. He isn't asking for much, is he now? 

Well actually, he is! 

The days of having a say in any and every matter are long gone. Man’s authority and control have slowly been delegated, diminished, dissolved, disintegrated, and has now become defunct. 

Take a classic example. 

The TV remote. 

Remember the days when the man in the family decided which TV channels the other members of his household got to watch. He would dictate which program got the maximum TRP’s in his house and which films were suitable for family viewing with total disregard to the censor board ratings. 

With the remote, man could put the Wife in ‘mute’ mode, stall the Kids on ‘pause’ and disregard anyone else by pressing the ‘Off’ buttons. 

Now, he is lucky if the remote ends up in his hands. Lucky too if the Kids let him watch any program other than cartoons, lucky if the Wife decides not to pursue her favourite soaps, of which there are plenty – by the numbers and never-ending. 

It is usually a cold day in hell when he gets to watch the FIFA world cup telecast, the Grand Prix, or the boring but ‘oh-so-essential’ daily dose of news. 

With the TV remote gone, his control has been taken away, his authority seriously undermined, his ego shattered. All this and more, inside his very home! 

His home. His turf. 

The small area on this planet earth which he thought he could rule. The king of all and sundry, within the walls of his abode, now, a common man with no powers. 

Well how about outside the home, then?

Take the Car for instance. 

Man’s never ending desire for adventure, travel and conquest led to the invention of the motorcar. 

A Motorcar – a man thing! Made by Men, for Men! 

Powerful, Fast, Noisy, Oily, smoke-belching – masculine images, no doubt. 

And always with one steering wheel – for the man in control! 

With a loud horn to announce his arrival; with great decals to sport his style; with plush interiors to suit his comfort; with thumping pistons and thingamajigs under the hood. 

All nut and bolts, steel and glass, wood and leather, spit and polish. 

All Male. Most definitely – male. 

Suddenly he finds one day that he cannot take his beloved car to his office. How on earth did this happen? 

Oh, the Wife has taken the car to the salon; Oh, the Son has taken the car and his friends for a party; Oh, the daughter’s gone on a date – what? And in my car? 

And you take the bus ride home. 

Car gone, Power gone, Control gone. 

Man realized that he had no more say in the matters involving his possessions. Or that which he used to think of as his possessions. 

He then turned to Society. 

Man tried to impose his will on the general public. He joined forums, organizations, institutes, associations, groups, any gathering which accommodated him, where, he could do as he willed and others would also do, again, as he willed. He set up establishments, rules, policies, governments. He did everything to keep his authority, his control. He used the stick, the carrot, the bullet and the ballot. 

But lost them all to revolutions, coups, wars and Freedom. 

Only puppets dance to the tunes of their masters. People don’t.

‘Cogito ergo sum’ - I think therefore I am, Rene Descartes has said. 

History has proved time and again that monarchies give way to democracies, hegemony steps aside for free will, and monopoly surrenders to choice. 

We played a childhood game, Simon says “Do this”. Well, Simon can keeping saying. Cause nobody’s listening! 

There went his control over society. 

By now Man was desperate but he did not give up. 

He turned to the spiritual. He evoked the fear of the unknown in others. ‘Thou shalt’ and ‘thou shalt not’ became the weapons of his new trade. Every word uttered by him was law; every act committed by him was religion. He assumed de-facto leadership over the masses. He was the soothsayer, the faith healer, the heretic, the seer, the prophet, the God. 

Man’s authority was unquestioned and his commands were obeyed. His control was far greater than ever before. 

People worshiped him, fell at his feet, idolized him, cannonised him, deitized him. 

‘So shall it be written, so shall it be done’, Rameses had spoken. 

But it was Moses who eventually conquered and whose will was done. 

Awakening, Education and Life pulled the masses out of Man’s trance. They started questioning his ideals, his beliefs, his deeds and his words. Till now he did the thinking for all, but now they themselves practiced thought. It was okay now to be an infidel. To be a contrarian was normal. His followers left him for another and another. 

He was now alone. 

His power had eroded. His control was lost. 

Dejection and dismissal plagued him. Despair controlled him. 

Or so he thought. 

There was no way Man could hold onto to control. He had strived and schemed for it, but it had always slipped through his fingers. Would he never master Control? Would it always evade him? 

On the contrary he would find it. 

He had had it all along, but never realized that he had it. 

He had never understood it and would never understand it. 

He had not known how to use it and still had used it unknowingly. The more he used it, the greater the control he had. 

He would never lose it, and didn’t mind losing this Control. 

What was this Control? 

LOVE, my fellow men, LOVE. 

It was Love when his six-month old baby peed all over his important office papers and then gave him the most beautiful smile any man could ask for. 

It was Love when his wife offered him his most hated vegetable as dinner which he had sworn not to eat, but she had cooked - just for him. 

It was Love when his Son paid the bill at the restaurant because he was now earning more than his father. 

It was Love when his daughter wore his favourite shirt and stained it with sauce at the party, came back, hugged him and told him how everyone loved her in that shirt. 

It was Love, finally which made him part with his Credit Card, the TV remote, his Car, his free will and his faith. 

It was Love which gave him ultimate Control over everything. 

And then he suddenly realized – he never really had control over Love. 

It was Love that controlled him.