Artwork: Bhoomika Ghaghada
Men quite often scowl when told a woman is on her period. The general belief is that, once a month, every month, without a doubt, all women turn into screeching werewolves, decidedly aggressive, sensitive to even subtle comments, yelling at everything in their path. Like an old and grumpy cat with matted fur. Move over, people: it’s that time of the month!
To ease the pain and anger that inevitably takes hold of these rabid creatures, high-heeled shoes and makeup are sure-shot antidotes. Innately attracted by every shade of pink, glittering jewellery, this sub-species never grows out of worshipping the idol of the perfectly proportionate Barbie doll [which also acts as a yardstick against which they measure their self-confidence].
In the same vein, they are raised to be beautiful, doting wives who stay at home and cook wonderful treats like bouillabaisse and Waldorf salad to treat their husbands. Obedient and always poised, they are Martha Stewarts with different names. There is a potentially dangerous breed of them who claim that this isn’t their life goal – Let’s humour them. We know they will eventually have to hand in the towel, anyway; be it pregnancy or her in-laws wishes. It’s only natural that they get over their selfish fantasies and realize they’re losing focus on child-rearing and housekeeping [they’re horrendous at multi-tasking].
They make the silly argument that the responsibility of child-rearing should be shared when everyone knows that the male is a creature with high demands, a fragile ego and always on the lookout for meat [Make fire, cook meat].
She would undoubtedly upset the natural order if she were to focus on ‘her career’. Let’s talk about women who want to travel the world and explore. It’s laughable. They couldn’t find their toes if they were at the beach. And what if the uncontrollable male impulse of any man kicks in watching her walk around in shorts? Without a burly sensible man by their side, they don’t stand a chance.
Shamelessly, they pursue their daydreams. Seriously, though, if a woman can’t take care of the children, cook, clean, sew, help with homework, do the laundry, bake cookies, and look flawless doing all of the above, we doubt that we could categorize her as a woman at all.
Those women that don’t know how to act lady-like are just the worst – don’t get me started on those. Clumsy, fat, and their shoes don’t match their purse. It’s a crying shame! A lady loves her Prada bags, her Gucci heels and wants to spend, spend, spend and find a rich businessman to be her husband [Dear future husband, here’s a few things you need to know].
Prim and proper; anything beside that, and she is no longer a lady. She is something else entirely if she prefers to get muddy, sweaty and lie around in her sweatpants, eat chocolate covered pretzels, watching ‘the football’ or playing all those violent, manly video games.
Why can’t she be more of an l-a-d-y?
Having the audacity to roam the streets, attracting unwanted attention, climbing mountains, trying to be ‘financially independent’? They’ll get what’s coming to them – it’s just not a safe world for that poor, little girl.
All those untamed men and her bright red lipstick.
We know women are bat sh*t crazy and impossible to deal with. When they say no, they really mean yes. Ah, women – you can’t live with them, you can’t live without them.
Ridiculous? You’ll be shocked to see statements that our family, friends, and colleagues utter unknowingly because these persisting type casts are so ingrained in us. Got something to add? Tell us in the comments below.