Better man

Loitering is not a sin. Grumbling, neither.

To further hone my skills as the famed agony aunt, I manage to stumble across trouble in the form of broken hearts.A distaste towards the general state of affairs should dissuade one from counselling, but somehow, it boomerangs!

Cut back to a casual coffee, a demure girl, etc. An oft heard tale of anticipated love, unexpected skeletons, heartbreak, revival.I had my brains plastered with 'Heaven on Earth', the Preity Zinta starrer; couldn't help but feel that the movie was an accurate depiction of how life works for those who are isolated from their natural habitat. It's instinct, an animal would yearn to head back home, weary, abused, ill-at-ease when forced to adapt to alien settings and I am not talking about the weather conditions here. Animals rebel, sadly, we have an analytical brain which is supposed to aid the thought process, that hisses, time and again, warns you of fatal consequences, fear of the unknown. The fear is enough to tie you down, paralyze you, yet keep you alive in the hope of better days, the quest to find a better man.
Come to think of it, there is none. We exist in a patriarchal heirarchy, so well structured that it stinks. A man can get away with just about anything and flaunt it with a smirk, because he was just 'being a man'. The woman should be a shadow, trail the provider without question, languish at his feet, clean the puke, make his bed, cooperate in it, allow him to grab and then discard thanklessly. Hell, I found the perfect woman!

I might draw a lot of flak for typecasting, but I'd like to claim that civilization has failed to reform the most inherent of traits. It's the story of all those who are killed, by spirit and soul, at home or away. Abide, bear, withstand, bun, disappear. A battered face glowing with pride holds more hope than a flawless complexion shadowed by a constant horror, ever so pleasant on the surface but scarred deep within, beyond recognition.

A real man needn't necessarily subscribe to all the possible vices, a man can cry. A man must have the balls to decimate and be decimated. And a man must not let his woman feel violated. Providence will prevail through mutual belief. Balls merely hang unless you know how to use them.

Half of what she had said failed to register. More than half of what I said was a blur. I was thankful it ended that way!