Off from Internet/Mails/Orkut/Java/People/Driving/Work/Bugs/Movies/Audioslave/Cell Phone for next four days. So I purchased three books today to keep myself entertained. One is a novel about a sociopath who turns out to be a serial killer by Val McDermid and the other two are is Neitzsche's Birth of tragedy and The case of Wagner. Explains a lot, doesn't it?
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I saw you reading a sheet of paper waiting for the elevator this evening. You were surprised to see me come and stand next you. As we walked into the elevator, memories came flooding into my mind. Our acquaintance had begun in these elevators. Our offices were on 45th floor which incidentally happened to be the topmost floor in this building. Given the number of people who came in and out of elevators till we reached our destination, sometimes it would take close to thirty minutes to reach our offices. Outside these elevators, we were two strangers working in the same building. Knowing names wasn’t important either but after about a week or so, it kind of slipped out. Anonymity was our closest companion. Well, so was coffee. “Your nose is bleeding.” You pointed out to me. I idly wiped it with a tissue. You were startled to see me chuckling. You were looking genuinely puzzled so I took pity on you and verbalized my train of thought. “You are standing at an arms length from me but the distance between us is far greater than the distance between an ocean’s shore and horizon. Is that the reason why you can only see my bleeding nose and not my bleeding heart? But then again, horizon is an illusion after all.” I had gushed this in one single breath even before a drop of blood which trickled from my nose had hit the floor of the elevator. Your face had paled after listening to my words.
We never really talked about anything personal. It was mostly about poetry, The Simpsons, Phillip.K.Dick, Marxism and odd historical facts. There were days when I was actually looking forward for meeting you just because I had read some obscure historical fact. Those thoughts were ruled out faster than blink of an eye. I had turned up one day with visible bruises on my face, my make up failing to hide a black eye completely. One look at me and you started to narrate an incident at your office the other day. By the time we reached our floor, tears were flowing freely from my eyes and I had clutched my stomach from the pain all my laughter was causing. Before you departed you had uttered very gently, “It’s ok to ask for help.” The smile had died on my lips and I did try to get some help. But nothing really came out of it. I simply improved my make up applying skills and wore full sleeved turtle neck sweaters which covered new wounds and old scars. Nothing much changed. But yes, for about thirty to forty five minutes daily, I indulged myself with a stimulating conversation sometimes witty sometimes intellectual; sometimes full of sharp insinuations from you regarding my situation. I never told you anything about it, but domestic abuse is something that is not so entertaining in a civilized conversation isn’t it?
Somehow this evening I couldn’t come up with anything witty or intelligent to begin the normal routine. The silence was oddly comforting and I felt a strange sense of detachment from everything. As the elevator got closer to the ground there was a constriction in my throat. I muttered a hurried good bye and literally ran out of elevator. As I soaked myself into the hot tub of water, I let the aromas of candles, bubble baths and roses take over me. I have written everything I have thought of telling you – jokes, facts about Henry VIII, how good you look in your gray suit, why I like Pontiac GTO better than a Sebring and so much more. The letter was posted to you this evening on my way back from work. Aromas around me started to lull me to a peaceful slumber. And then, the water in the tub started to turn red. I threw away the blade away from me and enjoyed a scented bath. Somehow the fact that this was the last thing I would ever do in my life again didn’t bother me one bit. As the water turned a deeper shade of red every second, I drifted….far…far…away from here…
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“Hey”
“Hey”
“Can I ask you a question? It’s kind of personal. You don’t have to answer if you don’t wish to.”
“Shoot.”
“Exactly how many pairs of footwear do you own?”
“Not enough.”
“Come on. Quantify.”
“17”
“Err…”
“Yes? You need any other information about my choice of footwear?”
“Umm…no. I was just wondering. I have totally four pairs of footwear and I never seem to face any problem. It’s just that I don’t get it. Why do women have fascination for footwear?”
“Shouldn’t you be surprised why most men generally lack that fascination?”
“Why should I be? Worrying about apparel, footwear, accessories seems so girlish.”
“Then why the heck do we have so many male fashion models?”
“Simple. Girls like to ogle at them. Since it’s an already established fact that men simply don’t do fashion, women persuade husbands/friends/siblings/boy-friends to buy the merchandise. Male models are actually targeting women and not men.”
“That’s the stupidest load of bull I have ever heard. Well, it’s an ok theory though, but not quite logical. Have you heard of demand and supply chain?”
“Yes. It is the basic rule of supply chain management. A vendor supplies goods to meet the demand.”
“What if there is no demand?”
“Then create demand.”
“Exactly. Demands are created by advertising, discounts on excess goods, creating a fashion trend etc.”
“I understand that. But what’s your point?”
“What if there was a point of time when both men and women were completely ignorant to fashion trends. For example, people wore cloths and footwear to satisfy their basic purpose and never really for anything else.”
“Must be a time of simple living and high thinking? Or was it a time of no thinking and generally living?”
“Do you want to listen to my theory or not?”
“All right. Sorry. Go ahead.”
“Well that time, lets consider a merchant who ended up with excess amount of silk and excess leather for that season. Like every other merchant he could store them at the cost of quality till next season or sell them off intelligently.”
“So he created a demand.”
“He would have arranged a gala at his manor and would invite all of the townsfolk. In the gala he would explain the fine features of his silk and leather.”
“So those dumb idiots bought his words and purchased the silk?”
“Of course not. His idea would have been a total flop. Look at these people. They are already satisfied with what they have. If you are offering the same thing then why would they buy? That too buy something that they already have?”
“So he introduced fashion!”
“Exactly. He would invite people and show them the merchandise in a finished manner with different styles.”
“All right. I am with you till now. But you still haven’t explained why men aren’t into fashion.”
“I am getting there. When the merchant showed the finished goods it was actually for both men and women. Only women bought goods.”
“So you mean to say men are retarded when it comes to fashion sense?”
“No. They had visited the last time that merchant had a gala. These men thought that he is again going to show same old silk and leather so they simply enjoyed the party by drinking and frolicking. They were too drunk to realize that merchandise was shown for them too. Those who were not drunk were either children who particularly could not take apparel decisions on their own or people with no money who could not afford them. People who were rich to afford those things were in a drunken haze. Merchant would have thought that men didn’t like fashions. This must have continued for some years after which fashion was used only with feminine gender for quite sometime.”
“Basically men are not into fashion is because they are generally drunkards, lazy and ignorant?”
“Well, they were mostly indifferent to anything in those days I suppose. Perhaps that would explain the ridiculous cloths that Europeans wore during Renaissance.”
“Men are not ignorant.”
“OK. Do you watch TV? Of course you do. What’s the average time you spend on TV?”
“About 2-3 hours a day and 5-6 hours during weekend. Why?”
“Why don’t you use Fair & Lovely?”
“What? Why should I use a product manufactured for women?”
“QED.”
“What? What did I miss?”
“You claim you watch TV and have missed out ads for men’s product by the same brand. You read magazines and I am sure in many of them you will find a whole page dedicated to this product. How did you miss?”
“I would have passed it as yet another skin care product for women.”
“Right. You didn’t even bother to see if it’s anywhere applicable to you. That’s where the difference lies between men and women.”
“What? That women pay attention and men don’t?”
“Yes. When a woman really pays attention, then end result would also involve man being really attentive and wonder why his money purse has become suddenly lighter.”
“Where did you read this stuff? It’s pretty interesting.”
“I made it all up just now.”
“You made it up? @#%^*$%@^!<%” “I was bored with my work until you came along with that really lame question of yours so I thought I can entertain myself with some useless theory.” “So the reason for your seventeen pairs of footwear….” “Shopping is in our other X Chromosome. Period.” "Aaarrrghhhh....."
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