Doctors have earned riches curing paranoid women’s compulsive, imaginary illnesses – migraine, stress, strain and the like. Medicines must have failed making a good impact, generous care and attention at home would dissipate without impacting but if there is one tool, tried and tested on women across ages and species that cures all ‘diseases’ with 0% failure, it is shopping.
I have seen my mother’s migraine miraculously disappear just at the thought of going to a mall (my mother had fallen sick, due to imaginary strain I’m sure, days before travelling to Singapore this May. But the moment we boarded the train, she turned her glowing, smiling face to me and asked – do I look sick? To which I had to reply in negative very blandly). I have felt my frustration over a nagging boss vanish incredibly by entering the department store. If only sensible, honest, mature doctors gained from their own life experiences and gave the correct tip to ladies.
My mother’s doctor in the above case was one such gyaani. While he gave a few medicines to Mum, he called Dad later and told him – Travel to Singapore, she can, without worry. Wait and watch what miracles happen the moment she is out of home. And it worked. I am sure that doctor has daughter(s). Being in minority in the family spells disaster that he must have learnt in his many years of fatherhood.
Over flowing cupboard or not. Fluctuating size or not. Correct occasion or not. Women needto shop. Shopping is a necessity. Like grocery shopping. Wait. Actually, a bigger necessity than grocery shopping.
And sale time? That’s war. And women from all corners of the city come creeping out onto the battleground, all attachments, responsibilities, and ailments forgotten. Their determined, rigid facial expressions can put any penalty kick facing football player to shame. Women leave no stone unturned in spreading resent, especially at workplace.
Woman 1: (Eyes wide. Gleaming) I shopped yesterday! Flat 50% off at XYZ mall!
Woman 2: (Eyes narrowed) Really???
Woman 1: (Mad jeering monkeys jumping in her head) Ohhhh, you didn’t know????? You should have told me. I would have definitely taken you along!!
Woman 2: (Grrrrrr) That’s ok! I didn’t want to shop anything anyway!
Woman 1: I got 3 kurtis for Rs. 200 each! Such a great bargain, na???
The most docile housewives turn into monsters during sale times. How wrong are you to think that these simple, undemanding housewives are not ambitious and wouldn’t hurt a fly? They are home makers, protecting and binding the family. Hell, not hurt a fly! They elbow fellow shoppers, push them out of the way and trample bystanders when they are on their shopping mission. Their poor husbands have failed to recognize the fiery alter-ego of their wives. Now you know why every man is afraid of his wife? Because his wife has a hidden Durga Maa side which is dangerous to be invoked.
How much ever he hates it, a husband will ALWAYS accompany his wife on her shopping mission. Not that he has much control but he still can curb the expenditure a bit. But once there, what does he do? His wife greedily looks at the racks and sprints to join the battleground, her grit and fierceness startling the unsuspecting husband and he withdraws to a quiet corner where he finds several lost looking men. Only there does he find peace, among his fellow comrades.
Women with small kids abandon them mercilessly. Their husbands are shocked at their wives’ sudden change in temperament. They are perhaps yet to learn the norms of the game. They will learn the hard way, alas. They entertain their kids in the outside play area, silently thanking the mall authorities for being so considerate. The innocent kids can’t read their fathers’ glum faces nor do they know of the approaching catastrophe that their father is going to witness in the form of a thin, long, glossy strip of white paper. The ink on the paper will fade soon but the burn in his pocket will be permanent. Beneath the forced smiles is dread. Alarm.
Seasoned husbands (like my father) sit patiently in one place either fiddling with their mobile phones, trying to figure out the complicated buttons, or staring into space. They can sit patiently for hours. All they need is a sofa. A seasoned husband knows better than to keep pace with their wife and/or daughter. He knows they have forgotten him and will call him when they need him (to pay the bill). He also knows that his opinions are neither valued nor needed. At peace with himself, he even starts small talk with the other sofa-mates. No, they do not encourage each other to form a Harassed Husbands / Fathers Club, they merely talk about politics and government.
Many newly formed relationships can break after a shopping trip. Guys develop cold feet. Initially, they participate happily in the assisting in shopping process, watching their girls going in and out of trial rooms numerous times. But then the strain shows up. The strain of not knowing the difference between those two black dresses. The stress of having to repeat you look gorgeousfifty times. The pain of loitering outside ladies trial rooms among over-excited animated women of all shapes and sizes. The difficulty of having to pick the better outfit without actually knowing the difference or giving a damn about either. And finally when they see happy looking guys shopping on their own, they develop ‘issues’. Commitment issues, mostly.
Men may feel whatever, but the exhilaration and kick that women get by holding glossy shopping bags is unmatched. Take my word; there is no therapy better than shopping in this world. It works on all ‘problems’. Such a simple, basic, easily available therapy. And doctors don’t get the trick at all. Alas. Men just don’t understand women.