Posts Tagged ‘male’

They say that before you take your last breath, your whole life flashes before your eyes. It’s true; I see mine now, moments, fragments of memory, flashing across my already blurring vision in bursts of light. The pond, the butterflies that used to flit around in mad fervor, leaving home, discovering life, the crazy orgies, seeing Dilly for the first time, the duet. Everything had changed after that, and I feel now in my slowing heart the way my heartbeat raised the very first time I lay eyes on her.

The day had been invitingly warm, and the guys were all hanging around the local pub, waiting to get laid. Tonight was going to be a good night. The atmosphere was practically screaming that something out of this world was going to happen. And it did. We heard her before we saw her. And before we knew it she was in our midst. A vision. Of innocence, of new-found lust. Her chest heaving, her eyes darting, till they met mine. It was her first time. I knew it the moment our eyes connected. A most thrilling thing, this meeting of eyes; this meeting of lives, this exchange of souls, this understanding. I knew it was her first time and I knew she was mine.

The duet. The age-old mating ritual. The synchronization of sounds of lust. They say that men of science have after years of research discovered a pattern in these sounds, this synchronization of sound that is the epitome of the mating ritual. But no one had the pleasure of scrutinizing the music we made that night, the magic, and the fervor, locked away in memory to be recounted before one’s last breath as a moment in time that mattered.

Death. My body spasmed and my head involuntarily fell to my right. Bodies, countless, unmoving, all around me. Females and children. Soon I too would be just another body. But I know I didn’t deserve this death. And maybe they didn’t too. They had merely done what they had to do, risk death to keep our kind alive. Now, dead, maybe they have second thoughts about putting kind over self.

I just wanted to see Dilly. Lying there in the midst of countless hot-blooded females, I knew I had wavered; I had forgotten what my life was all about, and it was taken from me. Dilly.

*

*

*

*

*

*

 

*Dedicated to all the mosquitoes I zapped to death while at the PC.

 

Interesting mosquito fact: Males form large swarms and females fly into the swarms to mate. When a mosquito tracks down the whine of the opposite sex, it begins to synchronize its own pitch to fit that of the potential mate.

Note of warning to male mosquitoes: An average human has not the ability to see that you’ve got the balls to lay off blood unlike your female-counterparts, so unless you want to end up dead, do not go looking for your girlfriend on a ladies night out drinking.

All rights reserved by my sister who voiced that interesting thought which goes against everything that I’ve been studying so far in my course on Gender & Literature. So the norm is for the phallocentric, pig-headed, sexists from the Victorian age (or the Computer), who believe that power comes with having a dick and think with the help of the same instrument too, to turn up their hairy noses, set their erections on a tripod, and gaze through the urethra at a sperm-fogged perspective of the world to spurt opinions on intelligence or knowledge not being something that the female species really required – I’m not talking about all males really, just those who think that way; so there’s really no reason for everyone to get offended.

So the norm would be for the females’ (or at least the feminists’) defence mechanisms to go into overdrive. A din would be made about us females being able to make the same money, pursue the same careers, live the same lives, excel. The need for equal rights would be reiterated, and well, the usual.

*Destiny’s Child’s ‘Independent Woman’ plays in the background – Shoes on my feet – I’ve bought it; Clothes I’m wearing – I’ve bought it; Rock I’m rockin’ – I’ve bought it; ‘Cause I depend on me… If I wanted the watch you’re wearing – I’ll buy it; The house I live in – I’ve bought it; Car I’m driving – I’ve bought it; I depend on me!* ♪

So all the women who are independent, throw your hands up at me!! ♪ Anyway so my sister’s logic was: “Why should I study? I’m a girl.” She’s already Destiny’s Child’s idea of an independent woman: She’s got her own car (and not the expected little Maruti either), makes enough money to splurge on herself and others, and lives the good life. Study more? What for? Being the ‘girl’, the ideal thing would be for the man to do the learning, work, make the money, bring home the bread, and take care of the ‘woman’ and of course her needs. All she should rightfully have to do is worry her styled little head about her nail polish and appointments at the stylist, matching outfits etc etc. (ignoring for a minute the fact that that sounds pretty petty and fabulously frivolous – that’s luxury) while her darling boyfriend or husband worries about the bills, which of course he should pay by piling up his qualifications and work experience to make more and more money which of course the woman would work out how to spend.

Yes yes I do realize I’m ignoring a lot of debatable issues, but I don’t know, when you think about, and consider just the above, and not take into consideration all the surplus screaming for my attention, getting the man to do all the hard work sounds like a good deal to me. *Shrug*