Trip Back Home

Some people don't know the first thing about fashion. But I have converted this weakness into strength. No, not by taking time to learn about five different ways to tie a tie knot. I am not an 18th century butler. But by taking pride in what I don't know and labeling everybody who does as vapid and superficial. Yeah, I know, they laugh behind my back. But at least they don't do so at my face. Believe me, there is no one as intimidating as a shabbily dressed pseudo-intellectual.

But why do we take so much interest in fashion? As babies we are used to adoration, but as we grow up compliments become more and more difficult to come by. You walk into a party and people come to you and say - "Hey! Nice tie!" – and you know that’s the highest compliment you are going to get for the week. It’s a bit different for women though; they ignore everything and compliment each other's shoes. (Gosh! What is with women and shoes? Who cares about shoes?) That's what you want - compliments. You know there is no other way to get it. No matter what you do no-one will walk up to you and say - "Hey! Nice person" or "Hey! You are so humble and kind" - until you are dead. Once you are dead, you are made for life. But while living, as Seinfeld says - it’s much easier to be a bastard and match the colors well.

But you know who loves fashion? Women. So I go back home after a long, long time and as usual my sis & mom took me out to shopping (them shopping me watching them shop). Now don't get me wrong - I love them. But you would need the patience of a rock to go out shopping with some people. I don’t mind the six hour marathon walking, or the constant questioning whether something looks good on her, or whether something looks good on her with something else, or the endless discussions about whether the price is right. What I mind is the fact that for all their enthusiasm, they don’t seem to buy much. For some reason that’s very disconcerting to me. Some time back I made the big mistake of buying my mom a saree (bye bye bucks down the drain), so this time I took herself. It was like buying the ticket to a very bad and very long horror movie. I had tea, I had a nap. I wake up and all the shelves are half empty, sarees are haphazardly spread about on the tables and the floor and yes - all the mannequins had been stripped down. Three tired staffers, one exasperated owner and about two hours later, we walked unashamedly empty handed out of the store.
M: “There was nothing good in there." 
S: "Yaa they have no sense of latest style." (from the 70s)
M: "And it was all very expensive."
S: "A daylight robbery!" (It sure looked like the shop was being robbed.)
M: "Nobody is taking my son's money just like that!” 
S: "I have the best mom!" (Wait a minute, how did she assume I would buy?)

Another thing I do only at home - watching TV. I am really not used to seeing ads. I watch pirated downloads with no ads, and I have long since lost the patience that honesty requires. But I can see that I am missing so much. Ads really tell us so much about our society. Like the concept of a good husband. Now in all these ads - the boyfriend is never shaved; his hair looks like he hasn't showered for days. And he is always, always wearing a shirt over a t-shirt! But the husband. Ah! The husband. He is clean shaven. No, he looks like he never had facial hair in the first place. (In college we used to call such guys as "juice" and the best looking "juice" in the campus was given the Miss IIT crown. Yes our Miss IIT was a guy – ha ha big surprise). Coming back to the husband, one more important thing - he is always always fairer than the wife. That's the dream Indian husband.

But do you know who the best husband is? The pain relief balm guy. Yes, Zandu Balm or Iodex or MOOV or what have you. Now, this guy is usually just sitting around pretending to read a newspaper even as his wife is fighting fire - preparing two kids for school, cooking Tiffin as well as attending to her in-laws' wishes. The kids are late for school, the cooker is whistling urgently in the background, the mother-in-law is coughing her throat out but this guy is just sitting on his ass - he has found inner peace. Like Buddha. But as soon as the wife breaks down with a back-ache and lets out a loud - "aaah", he does not wait for a second in picking her up and rubbing MOOV on her surprisingly thin waist. A couple of minutes later the dutiful wife is "fixed" back to work, and the husband is back to reading his paper. 

And what is up with the soap ads? Seriously, it looks like soaps have everything except - well, SOAP! First they show this stream of milk flowing in, it has almonds, cashews and walnuts, then there is a second stream of honey flowing in and then rose petals too. Then come the models - it doesn't look like they need the soap anyway - with perfectly made up hair even in the tub, seductively rubbing all this tasty stuff all over her body. After a minute or so I don't know whether I am hungrier or hornier!