One Roguish Rib!

A feminist breathes somewhere in me. However, the multiple personality disorder keeps one staggering from this moiety to that, with none claiming the ‘patient’ as its own. In those lonely moments when you are just being yourself and not stereotyped and tagged as Miss I-am-too-busy-to-see-beyond-the-hemline-of-my-dupatta, certain realizations kick in.

The abhorrence towards womanish caprice being one of them. Speaking of which the X chromosome shrugs deep down at the molecular level. Had I been some Dan Brown-o-mimetic agent I would have portrayed the X symbol as the luciferian one, with double X making it more pronounced. But oh women are the most innocent, fairest and least mean of the gender ‘triad’ ; they have always said. Out of bonafides, I am pleased to inform you that the boot is actually on the other leg.

Few facts that egg on my argument and I loathe about female as a gender are expectorated below:


All right Ladies and Gentlemen! THIS is an open secret now.  Many a woman are reigned and maneuvered by this very hormone. The excess and deficiency both of which can screw up an achi bhali khatoon. The moods? The bouts? The onset of hyperactivity and degree of hypersensitivity towards the deep blue eyes of Assange or the dimple of John Abraham, all are judged by the respective levels of  it. Forget the brains, forget the guts. . . just hail Commander Estrogen.


Women do gossip and they can’t help it. They can lament over the same thing for years in more than thousand ways and their unwavering curiosity about certain things remains patent until the object dies, may be. A subtle piece of gnosis is all they need.


The subjects in question are an easy target for the Johny Bravos. They get vibes, they are spanked by qualms but oh th sweet women are ever so stupid when it comes to guys. Here ‘guys’ refer solely to the flirtatious type. A baffling fact: Women like bad boys just as the men like bitches. No matter how cheesy guys get, the Jills come tumbling after nonetheless.


Frankly, this fact makes me cringe more than anything. We are stereotyped, courtesy all the stupid women out there. Their antics are so darn similar that ‘coincidence’ becomes a word too weak and that can easily be deified by our pompous counterparts. The saner women? They are left in the background wiping their foreheads with Rose Petal may be.


Bargaining is O.K because I am all for consumers’ rights. However, our gender is rightly reputed for their characteristic trajectory of  bargaining the butts off. Of shopkeepers that is. While we are at it, I recall my friend saving my ‘five’ bucks and looking proudly at me anticipating acknowledgement. ” Main tumhara ye ehsaan kabhi nahi bhooloon gi’‘ was all I could offer.  :/

That pretty much sums up my rabble for the day. For more mind-nagging comestibles, I am off to hostel tomorrow where women at their worst invite me to chug red chillies and even then I manage to pass friendly smiles at my sorority.

Oh btw for those who are wondering how on earth a self-proclaimed feminist can bore you with a piece like this, well. . . in my defense, I can only smirkingly point at this blogpost’s title. Why? Because for some reasons or the other, a feminist breathes somewhere in me.

Me and my antics. . .

Return to Hostel expected in a couple of days, I am losing my sanity here by staying up all night staring across the window. At nights I just cant help waiting for another day to dawn upon. During days, I keep wondering when will the day end into darkness. I am killing my time these days being vagabond and I know that very well. Hard to say, but I desperately want to get back the momentum of studies soon. Fingers crossed for the 1st semester’s  marksheet too.

Suffer with my lameness below, while I try to compose a better post. byes! (: