It was an interesting night out with friends yesterday and a moment of revelation for me, which often happens when I am forced to sit in the women’s ONLY section (@#$%) and I survive it! All of my grown up life, I have lived with the belief that men are the most obsessed lots with boobs don’t raise a questioning eye brow now-of course women’s boobs and not their own, unless they have them too-ewww. But hellooooooooooo, wake up time! I was proved wrong yesterday! If there is anyone most obsessed with women’s breast on this planet-It’s the women themselves. Stop gloating “man”kind! You are only getting a peek here, a peek into the discussion that is, so no need there to rub-those eyes so much.
We now had a gang of women discussing the usual ‘blah, blah’ when the hostess suddenly asked...
Woman 1: Ladies, am I looking too flat in this T-shirt? (taking all the searching pairs of watchful eyes to her top half or the lack of it rather!)
Me: Oh not at all yaar, with a waist like yours (I sometimes think if I put my palms together in a circle, with my finger tips touching each other, her so-called waist just might fit into it. I get such an anxiety fit at the possibility of the idea coming true that I never end up trying to find out) and those long sexy legs, who cares what’s on top?
W2: Hehe, yup and men don’t really care what’s on top, as long as it’s a woman up there! (followed by a wink)
W3(she’s the ‘big’ woman, who is now getting a chance to flaunt at least something big about her positively and feel proud): Oh no, no! Men do care gurls! I mean for all your great size zero fetish, doesn’t your guy really complain sometime? (raising her fingers expertly and seductively down her line-cleavage line dim heads or would that be the cleavage circle...er...whatever!) Mine would be so lost without them! Ouch!
W1(very seriously looking down at her little cleavage now): But I’m not THAT flat I hope? Suruchi, you touch me and tell? And before I can vouch for my lack of qualifications or express my opinion to govern where my “handy” movements should or should not be extended to without permission, my palm has been manually grasped and put on her breast!
Me: Hmm...aaaa...mmmm no, I am not moaning with pleasure...I am thinking of a suitable retort to please all those watchful eyes of female predators-to please them all with one answer. Yup, I was trying to go where no man had gone before!
My mental maths:
Should I say they are good?-But that would mean I have an under nourished choice!
Should I say they are good enough?-But that would mean I have a liking for them!
Should I say they could have been bigger?-But that would mean that I am trying to flaunt my own!
Should I say ‘who am I to tell’?-But that would mean I’d rather do other things with them than tell about it!
Should I say....?-@#$%^@#$$ Ugh-Time up!
Time to say now and get my hands off them!
Me: Err...not at all! What size are you by the way?
W1 (chin up n facial expressions tightened, the kind that you’d probably see on Shaheed Bhagat Singh’s face in movies when he’d say ‘I am an Indian’): I am a 33.
And she smiles expectantly for me to say if I approve of a 33 or not. Bloody hell, I never even knew there was a 33. I thought there was a Clearasil n then 32 and then 34 and then 36 and then 38 and then unnecessary-excessive-madness and fake beyond that. And who the f@#$ am I to say if 33 is bloody good enough or not? It’s not as if I am seeking some pleasures from it or that I have a degree in BVR-Breast Validity Recognition!
W5 (in an expression of half disbelief and half offended and full don’t-you-dare-mess-with-me): Oh come on, that’s not true! If you are 33 then how on earth can I be 34, with mine way lot bigger than yours? (eyes glowering with challenge now) Suruchi, now you feel mine too and prove it!
OH MY BLOODY GOODNESS!!!!!
Where the bloody hell is my lawyer? I have some rights and now I intend to sue some people here for woman/man handling me. For heaven’s sake-my preferences and public display/perception of it is at stake here! But poor me, I end up getting stuck in situations where I least expect, yes, like in between women’s breasts! Here I was, sitting between two hot looking women-my hands outstretched like a scarecrow’s-each cupping one out of two pairs of womanly breast and I don’t know where to look and how much to grasp and please don’t even begin to ask how I was feeling as in emotions and not feeling-feeling! Phew!
As though by divine intervention to screw my case further, these women realized perhaps I am ‘holding’ them too lightly and this might lead to a miscalculation of a final inference. So they made me press well and tight! There is no bloody respect of a public place in the youth today! Tch, tch, this coming from me who has always advocated PDA-public display of affection! Little did I know that both genders might get involved in the term ‘public’!
And there I also spotted my beloved sitting at the other end of the hall, almost tilting dangerously his chair backwards to look through the crowds at what I was up to with an expression of...
Not “What the f@#$!”
Not “Someone help my wife!”
Not “Khabardaar jo kisse ne mere biwi ko haath lagaya...err...se haath lagwaaya!”
But “Do u need help in there honey? It looks like you have quite a ‘handful’ to do just by yourself?”
Me (in my thought bubble in return): @#$%$#@@&!
Me: Girls, girls, how does it matter? At the end of the day, for these men, it is not important how much you juggle, but more vital how THEY make you wriggle! (Looking at others for a thunderous applause at my philosophical insight. But as it seems, I was stuck in the in‘sides’ still and the dumb women just watched me gaping, with their mouths of course!
And so slowly, inconspicuously, I got my hands down. Thanked the father up in heaven!
Oye, down bole to, down to my own sides!
W4 (now with her arms in an akimbo and her upper half jutting out threateningly at me): Since you are testing everyone else, you must feel me too and tell. My husband would hate it of he knew I were left out!
Holy freaking shit! I need to wash my hands with Dettol today or perhaps Ariel multi wash would do. I had to get the scent of these women off me! If you had to put me through the test my Lord, why couldn’t I be doing the men? Err...I mean I could tell by touching who had the better muscles...on their arms or softest hair...on their heads! (What gross things you people just thought here a line before, na? Ram, Ram, Ram...ghoor kalyug!)
Hmmm, I always dreamt that people would queue up before me someday-little did I know it would be for a Breast Awareness Camp that I didn’t even set up in the first place! By now a little crowd had gathered around our table for word had got out. (Ji nahi...hamaare gaon mein “usse” word nahi kehte!)
I got many men to shower curious glances at me, smirk with all their charm in the mighty hopes that I might leak some of my new found depth of the ultimate truth. Some even shook hands with me again, even though they had tested the softness of my palms upon arrival. I had to remind them that I am not a touch phone and this is not a touch-pass-vibration therapy!
And then the men in their truest dumb fashion began to boast and fling uncalled-for proposals as volunteers that thankfully ended my whole role as the tester. I feel the world can get to the cure of AIDS, discover new planets and achieve all the rest of scientific blah, blah that they are struggling to reach at, if only the men would just stop proposing, presenting and selling themselves at every bloody occasion!
Man 1: To judge this you must call someone from the opposite gender to get the whole idea? Hey, your bloody good luck today coz I am available!
M2: Is there a confusion? Ask me, I am an expert in these things? I can even tell you how you can upgrade!
M3: You girls, don’t listen to these perverts. All they wanna do is touch you. Let me come to the rescue. You all just stand in line here and I would just watch intently and tell. Problem solved!
All the W’s finally in unity (in our thought bubbles): @##$$#@@%^&!
Needless to say you can fathom what happened after this!
The group dispersed. Some went to their husbands/ secret admirers to confirm, some went in a corner and tightened the hooks of their push up bras, some others bitched about some others’ assets and few were seen walking about with their front out in the rest of the party!
And what about “Me” you wonder? Well, I just had too much of a “touchy” experience to be able to say more here!