VOGUE

PROLOGUE:

“The world’s big enough for all of us. And besides, so what if women could influence government, take over big business, alter domestic policy, dominate education, make the world a better place. In one important respect, we still had a lot to teach them. Yeah, when it came to being jerks, they still had a lot to learn.”
- TWY.



One fine day, as the boys were discussing their woes.

Patrick – How am I supposed to know the difference?
Terence – Huh.
Patrick – Between a lip gloss and nail paint.
Terence – Oh. This happens.
Patrick - Or a kajal and black lipstick.
Vincent – Ask women if they know what a PS3 is.
Terence – It’s like asking us what peep toes are.
Baharul - I am a peeping tom, I admit (he shouts).
Patrick – Easy man, don’t shout. So, what is a peeping toe?
Vincent – Peep toes are a style of shoes.
Terence – Right, they are not actual body parts.
Patrick – And how come both of you know?
Vincent – Oh. That’s a funny story.
Patrick – Tell me also.


FLASHBACK:

A year ago, Vincent and Terence gate crashed a very subtle yet obnoxious event. Terence was apprehensive but Vincent was cool like a cold turkey, “It’s a bloody subtle event and I am sporting a bloody stubble”. Many of the things which Vincent said had no concrete meaning which often seemed utterly and butterly pointless, but that’s what made Vincent a main ingredient in the recipe of our college life. Terence seemed confused but knew that it was a package that came along with Vincent.

The fine event was centralized in a private lawn around a rather beautiful water fountain. The night was clear and bright because of few stars which made up the formation of the large intestine. At such swanky places and events, the booze and grub are usually paid for; so the event was crashed and the two pretended like they knew everyone. After five rounds of the finest scotch, the voices grew louder or maybe it was just in their head and then out of nowhere, this extremely HOT woman tapped on Vincent’s shoulder. As he turned around, Terence drew a myopic mental perception of the hot woman. He calculated that the woman was well spoken but not well read, well dressed but not well attired, wealthy and snobbish but articulate with an attention for detail.

By the way, the intricate details mentioned have no major significance because she isn’t a major character. Anyway, she tapped Vincent’s shoulder and when he saw her, he turned ecstatic or maybe he wished he had some ecstasy, whatever it was; Vincent was shining in pride that a woman, that too a sizzling hot woman, approached him. Then he tried to project his gentleman type behavior and softly grinned while asking, “Helloo, how are you doing this evening?”, while he asked this question, Vincent quickly nudged Terence as if to say, “Watch the player do his thing”. Maybe the nudge came a little too soon because the hot woman said, “A cosmopolitan please and double up the service, it’s rather slow”.

Fuck. Vincent gave Santa Claus serious competition. Never had Terence seen this look on Vincent’s shameful face, he was all red (maybe in anger, maybe in embarrassment). Words, which flowed out of Vincent’s mouth like a down sloped river, seemed like some Mexican juice, unexplainable and uncommentable. It was a funny sight because the two were drunk and didn’t really know what happened till it actually happened. It took Vincent some minutes to gather himself and say, “You have got it wrong, I’m no waiter”. The situation might not seem funny on paper but it was initiatively laughable. The hot woman then replied with a typical woman-ish overtone, “Oh dear, apologies”. “That’s okay, I’m sure he took it nicely”, said Terence, who loved the moment as it was way too imaginatively funny.

Then Vincent notched up a smile. It was the kind of smile that we displayed when we visited spark-notes before any terminal examination. “I shall accept your apology only if you have some drinks with me”, Vincent said. She was reluctant as it clearly showed on her beautiful face; she was way above their league. She politely refused and stated, “My girlfriend is waiting outside and I just broke my heels”. Terence and Vincent thought, “There’s another one like her! Wow”. Terence offered her his zippo as she lit a cigarette which seemed imported. “Thanks, wish I had a ballerina or a peep toe right now. It would have been so comfortable for me”, she said this and both the boys heard just one word out of the complete sentence- ‘Peep Toes’.

Then Terence and Vincent have a whispering conversation.

Terence – Peep toes.
Vincent – Are you thinking what I am thinking?
Terence – I don’t know but I am thinking.
Vincent – I think she and her friend want us.
Terence – How can you say that?
Vincent – Peep toes.
Terence – So?
Vincent – She’ referring to our lovely genetic organs.
Terence – I don’t think so.
Vincent – Watch the player do his thing.

Then Vincent winked at her while saying, “You wanna see my dick, babe?”. She looked at him and said, “You got it wrong. Don’t read signals when there are no signs”. Vincent snapped back, “Are you talking about Derrida?”. “You can get lost now, you waiter face”, she further said, “Don’t take everything as a sexual lingo, peep toes are a style of shoes”.

Terence enjoyed the laughter, and the damage was done. Vincent’s ego and image dropped as though he was thrown out of a plane without parachutes. At a situation like this, it is very typical of a man to adapt strange defence mechanisms. “You said one of your girlfriends was waiting for you, therefore you dropped signs and when we caught the hints then you act pricey”, Vincent commented upon which the hot woman snorted, “I dropped no hints. I felt bad for calling you a waiter and spoke so that you wouldn’t feel humiliated. FYI, my girlfriend is my girlfriend. Not for both of you”.

There was an awful almost funny silence. Terence broke it, “So, you are a lesbian?”; Vincent quickly snapped, “There are no such things as lesbians, just women who never met me”.

“This is it. I’m leaving. I had no clue you would get ideas if I got a little friendly”, she further slammed, “It is because of men like you that women fancy themselves”. Then, she stormed out carrying her stilettos in her hand as the heels were broken. All this because of a peep toe.


The foggy flashback thoughts evaporated and one could hear Patrick and Baharul share smacking laughter.

Patrick – Ha ha, peep toes?
Vincent – Happens.
Patrick (mocking) – Watch the player do his thing. Balls!
Baharul – Was she a lesbian.
Terence – I think so.
Vincent – No she wasn’t.
Patrick – Then?
Vincent – She was playing hard to get.
Baharul – How do you know?
Vincent – Oh I know. I’m a … (he stops himself).
Patrick, Terence and Baharul – Player! Ha ha ha.



MORAL:

The power dynamics between men and women never stop, do they? Player or no player, peep toes or ballerinas; men are just about nothing without women. But still it's hard to find words to write something about women who leave a mark in our lives. The women I know may leave an impression of being submissive, but confidence is something they don’t lack. And that is really what woman-hood should be all about.


EPILOGUE:

“A woman has strengths that amaze men. She can handle trouble and carry heavy burdens. She holds happiness, love and opinions. She smiles when she feels like screaming. She sings when she feels likes crying, cries when she’s happy and laughs when she’s afraid. Her love is unconditional. There’s only one thing wrong with her, she sometimes forgets what she is worth.”
- Some feminist (who never claims to be one).


Happy ‘belated’ Women’s Day.


PS- Belated, on purpose, because she ‘is’ often forgotten (like this post). Btw, this post is titled ‘Vogue’ for the exact reason.