FRAILITY THY NAME IS WOMAN

FRAILITY THY NAME IS WOMAN

I've had the opportunity of meeting several girls who say that we,t he boys, are a stupid lot. They give us this tag because we are easily lured into the trap that they lay for us. We are fools because we blindly fall in love with the first fair lady we come across.

Consider the situation where the Vice-Chancellor has passed an ordinance making the burqa compulsory for the female staff and students of>the university. What do you think would happen first--- a revolt by the females, or a protest by the males? Who do you think would be the first to commit suicide--- the boys, or the girls? Let us accept it--- females are like the dog that sits at the feet of the man, waiting for three things: a look, a touch, and a word. He wants them more than a bowl of dog food; he can do anything for them. Believe it or not, females are exactly like the dog. Although they pose to be as virtuous as Mother Teresa, their disposition, their well-being, and their sense of security, like the dog, all depend on the look in our eyes, the touch of our hands, and the sound of our voices.They live for it, and they can die for it.

At a cousin's marriage in the biting cold weather of January, while I could barely hold my jaws together as the teeth chattered, I could not help marvel at the endurance the invited ladies exhibited--- not one of them had a woolen garment over their clothes! The females are dying to show off their gaudy clothes and silhouette figures!

Boys, the girls are yearning for a kind and affectionate look from us, never doubt it! Almost all of us are unaware of how much a look, a touch, or a word can hold for them. I wonder if you have any idea at all of the degree to which our absence makes them cross, resentful, irritatated, and tiresome.

I wonder what the girls would do without us! The other day, the teaching staff of the university was on a strike. Unaware of this, I walked over to the Faculty of Arts. Hail the young ladies strolling there desperately looking for boys! The females are invested with beauty and excitement, but ONLY by our attention. They bloom under it; they die without it.

Let me share an experience with you. I'd once said a few words of praise to one of my fair classmates: she had blushed! The young lady had probably fallen in love with me, or maybe it was the other way round. I learnt an important lesson that day--- the fair ones need not only the comfortable exchange of thoughts and gossip--- cosy and welcome as they are--- but, once in a while, words(like the glance) beamed directly at them can lead to dramatic things!

Gentlemen, you have heard it before, and you shall hear it again: when the girls wear a new dress and you notice it, do say something. One phrase will do: 'nice colour', or 'not bad', or 'wow!' If you can't say anything, at least stare at them for a few seconds. If you don't, they consider it a waste!! You ought to know what power our silence has over them. It doesn't matter how good we think their taste is, or how sure we are of their sense of fashion--- our silence can shatter their confidence. There is nothing in the world that makes the girls walk more proudly and gaily than the verbal pat. You ought to know this.

All these powers that we have over the females emanate from one premise: attention. If we don't pay attention, if we don't look or say something nice, the girls would die. Have you ever considered how serene and dull the Kennedy Auditorium would be if we did not raise a pandemonium whenever a fair one is sighted among the audience? Do you think they don't want the attention? The females consider it a birth right to be cared for, too be made the subject of the commotion we cause, to be looked at, and to be praised; the boys should not come to the auditorium if they can't do this.

Don't you think Amir Nishan would be quite dull and serene without the girls who haunt the marketplace with the sole purpose of ornamentation? Why do you think they do this? Do you think all of them are there to buy something? All of them carry a purse with them. Do you think all of them have money in it? No, sir! Why then do people blame us, the boys, if we take a stroll through the marketplace on these lucky days?

We are fools, I agree. We are nincompoops, but what would you say of the fair ones who yearn for a look from is throughout their lives? Yes, we are fools, but only to the extent that we cannot gauge the severity of the flame that kindles in their hearts: the girls are ten times more susceptible than the boys in matters of love and romance. So, who do you think is foolish and stupid--- the girls, or the boys?