The Ex Factor

Suddenly, I feel like Carrie Bradshaw with a double take on the good sex part. Probably due to the new found affiliation to “Sex and the City” I begin looking at relationships and my girlfriends in a new light – ladies, you needn’t be petrified now.

Most girls I know, since my school years to date, have that one guy who has left that one scar – usually bad – that has impacted them greatly despite having broken up years ago. Most of my guy friends however, do not suffer from this. Maybe I don’t know enough guys well enough to pass this judgement, nonetheless of the ones that I do know, I don’t see it in their faces. The girls on the other hand – no we are not looking for a sympathy vote here – have a scar, in their heart or wherever they say that hurts the most that undoubtedly shows in their face and the times they space out not to the future and how things would be like five years from now but to those moments with what’s-his-name.

In attempting not to be feminist – which I am not by now, at least not an extremist – I can’t help but think to myself, why women? Why is it that our kind end up with all this suffering? Is it because biologically we are emotionally stronger and therefore have the capacity to uphold such trauma or is it because we are supposedly stronger otherwise too as a result of the XX combination.

Maybe it does come down to biology. We have the XX factor. Boys have the XY. Bastards have one less (e)X to worry about.

Freud said that anatomy is destiny. Guess he at least got that theory correct.

To Mama, With Love

Dear Mama,

This post has been coming a while, however I was in question as to how it must be framed. Thus I thought, what better and easier way than a letter? It’s not one of those reply-me ones, but rhetorical to a great extent.

As I said, this has been a long time coming. I cannot thank you enough for what you have given me and on the same lines, I cannot but cringe at those moments I always cried for more. Among Akki’s and my friends you were always nicknamed the “coolest”. However to Akki and I, you are beyond being merely “cool”.

Looking back at my twenty-one years, of which I remember around fifteen, more or less, I’ve seen a woman who has risen to a height in terms of her family and now her career. We are indeed proud to be your daughters.

I always think to myself especially at those times when I ask you something and you answer, ‘Would I be able to answer all the questions my daughters ask me?’ The most common response blinks in front of me: Google. However, what’s amazing about Mama and her generation is that they never needed Google. Now I wouldn’t even know how to write my research paper without it. I am a core tech-buff, I agree, whole heartedly. However, the picture of me educating my child on puberty with a reader on my palm, headset on my ear and a constant eye on the laptop laying on top of the coffee table in front of me awaiting that very email, [Heaven forbid what other technological developments would be available fifteen years from now] does not seem too appealing.

Mama, you would not believe how truly grateful I am about you not turning Akki and I into book-worm. Even if you attempted so, I sincerely doubt that we would’ve been any good at it. What you did was very commendable and looking back at it, prudent. Our Mama did not cut off our allowances or give us less food or do something that would be considered a “punishment” if we were to horrible at our exams. One of the reasons we did not do all that bad was because, she had faith in us that we would do our best, and indeed we did, attempted to or at least tried not to fail :)  Being in University now I am glad I do not have the pressure being haloed over me and as a result of which am able to partake in everything my now-weakening flesh and bones allow me to.

Mama, you taught me how to cook. Rather, I observed and learnt to cook looking at you make all those yummy dishes. Dammit. I want beef.

This letter would be incomplete if I don’t add a realistic touch to it and tell you Mama that you need to work on your patience. Yes you do have patience, I agree, having brought up to unruly monkeys like Akki and I all by yourself. However, you don’t have enough patience to teach me to drive nor teach me to read Arabic. LoL.

With that, I would like to say thank you once again. For bringing us in to this world. For raising us to be responsible children. For teaching us that we don’t need a man to get through in life. For finding yourself a charity-buddy, always-friend-in-need and others’-first, me-last man.

All the best in all you do Mama. We will be there with you every step of the way.

Love,

Akki and Nangi

MEN – who needs them anyway?

Probably as a result of the most shocking news that did cause quite a stir in my busy yet peaceful world, my views on feminism keep growing dangerously strong each passing moment. Though poets – yes I do classify myself to be one though it is not one that I am writing – are allowed exceptional licence in terms of language, I believe that applies only to grammatical connections and not the (inappropriate) use of language. *sigh-smile-yet continues to keep her eyebrows raised*

Though my present state of mind is due to the latest report that was felt by someone near and dear to me, I must say that my perception regarding the subject matter – feminism – has been heightening since of late. Some call it maturity, others define it as immaturity.

I am not the biggest fan in terms of polygamy, yet as it is allowed in my religion – yes, I am a Muslim – so I do stand by what’s been decreed. Simultaneously, regardless of the fact of me considering myself a feminist, voice out for equality and justify polygamy – for spiritual reasons – that does not make me agree to polyandry. A person who practices polyandry in other words could be defined as a ‘legal’ prostitute. Trying to sit on the fence, I believe that one man could be satisfied with one woman and vice versa.

Men’, think women have been created with many complications. (Probably far more superior to their level of intelligence!) Women on the other hand find it hard to cope with the fact that a man is so simply created, thereby making him insignificant. I believe this is the point where all men shut the window in order to stop reading. Please note that everything I include in my commentary is that of what I have seen, learnt and experienced. Yes, I have matured and do partially justify the fact that one man differs from another. And that certain attributes that may be seen in a majority of men which could be classified as negative, necessarily may not be prevalent in the remaining minority of men. Blaming it on my present psyche, I cannot but help notice the irony embedded in the phrase “necessarily may not be prevalent”. In other words there is a considerable percentage where the entire race of men been well, what in English slang one may refer to illegitimate children as. I believe this is the point where men with hardcore anti-feminism policies hire hit-men to be sent after me.

It’s not as though I don’t believe in Obama’s concept of ‘change.’ Yet, I must say that he speaks of a hypothetical situation; a classroom situation adopted by a teacher to make the explanation simpler. I personally believe that change is something that one should adopt themselves. It’s not something that could be plastered in the forehead of another. I feel the same way when it comes to environmental conservation and action against climate change. Similarly, I believe it is the same when it comes to my discussion of the male gender. Whist all men may have the possibility of turning out to be a replica of the negative genre, there may be a very insignificant number of males who strive at changing themselves at being a better person; to set an example to their fellow gender; to prove to women like myself that ‘not all men are the same’. But the conflict I face is that, regardless of having come across this insignificant number, the stance that has been created initially will always be there. I suppose it’s a personal effort – a very difficult one I must admit – for women such as myself to change our attitude. Believing in fate, I honestly have no clue as to why in the midst of changing, does another example of the negative genre spring up thereby contributing to the already deteriorating perspective!

In relation to the topic, – “MEN – who needs them anyway?” - I must say that the only reason I ever agreed to people being married or considered marriage myself to one unfortunate soul on some unfortunate date in the very distant future is for the sake of children. I personally, love children and at one point I wanted ten of them. That was of course very much before I was greatly made aware of inflation and over-population. But due to advancements made in medicine and technology we are given ‘artificial insemination.’ “MEN – who needs them anyway?”

Second of all, I must say that the stereotypical portrayal of a – speaking locally – Sri Lankan, man in a household is of the father sitting in the living room with his feet on the coffee table reading the newspapers and the son playing some computer or outdoor game; while the mother would be busily engaged in the kitchen preparing meals whilst the daughter would get about household chores or bring the his father tea. It’s not that I am influenced by Sri Lankan tele-dramas. I’m not television’s biggest fan anyways. But from the little I’ve seen of it, this is what is portrayed in both the real and reel worlds. In conclusion, men are of no use to the household. Unless of course having the exception of fixing the UHF antenna or some such one-off incident. “MEN – who needs them anyway?”

Fellow feminists I doubt your agreement, but for those on the fence or pro anti-feminists all I can say is that, women are most capable of handling most tasks by themselves – please note the use of term ‘most’ and not ‘all’ – and the physical presence of men is more secure but not always more economically cooperative. Men are still respected and ‘looked up to’ only as it has been decreed by God who is far more superior to any man or woman and also for reasons we feminists chose to overlook!

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