Dé - Shobhaa: Never a Dull Dé

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Copyright 2014 Shobhaa D
who asserts the moral right to be identified
as the author this work

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Designed at
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ISBN 978-93-81431-91-7

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Thomson Press (India) Ltd., Faridabad, Haryana (India)

To

Lord Ganesha in gratitude.

And, my husband Dilip for helping me navigate
through life without hurting myself.

My most amazing, 30-year-old bond with the Mathew family is sealed with dry Kerala beef! Let me just say, its a family recipe the lady of the house should go public with! I love and respect my long standing association with the Malayalam Manorama Group. The Sexes has given me an enviable reach and a credible platform for the past three decades. I value our relationship and I hope I continue to stay in their good books for the dry beef, and much else!

TRG is possibly one of Indias most erudite and respected editors. Most importantly, he is my buddy. I thank him for his affection over the years. The column was started (and continues) largely because of his sweet words of praise.

Ashok Chopra what can I say about this man with twinkling eyes and a scary sense of observation? His quiet strength and determination, his innate confidence and resolve to publish books he believes in all these lovely qualities have provided much needed nurturing to countless authors. I owe him a big one as his author, and an even bigger one as his friend.

Prolific is a loaded word. I am wary of it. I never know how to react when someone comes up to me and announces chattily, My goodness! You are so prolific! Is the person paying me a genuine compliment? Being sarcastic? Stating the obvious? Or subtly criticizing me? Writers are thin skinned creatures. They are always looking for hidden meanings in the most innocuous of comments. They forget that the rest of the world may not be as obsessed with words. Their own or anybody elses. Words are powerful and lethal. They leave permanent footprints. Words have an impact on readers that writers cannot control or manipulate. Thats terrifying! Prolific sounds safe. Sounds good. It shows the other persons interest in the written word. And perhaps in YOUR written word. And I realize I should stop being silly. Stop being touchy. And just say, Thank you yes, you could say I am prolific. Such a response would end the conversation right there. But do I say that? Nope. I look injured. And I foolishly ask, But but what do you mean by that comment? Oops. Wrong move. Dangerous question. Its too late by then. The person takes a deep breath and launches into a speech. I am asked exactly how many columns I write per week. Is it tough to keep those deadly deadlines? Have I ever missed one? Is it boring to hammer out so much stuff? Forty-five years of writing??? No wayyyyy! Cool. Dont I write every single day, no matter what? Where does the inspiration comes from? Have I ever suffered from a writers block? Is it really true that I write 2500 words on a daily basis? When do I find the time to write? These questions annoy me. But only mildly. Are surgeons asked, Do you operate every single day? How many surgeries? What if you arent in the mood to operate? Have you ever encountered surgeons block, thrown down your scalpel and walked out of the operation theatre? No. Right? Why not? Because a surgeons job is to save lives. Guess what? In a way, so is a writers.

The columns in this volume reflect several concerns my own and societys at large. Some of the writing is acerbic and sharp, but almost all of it is impassioned and deeply personal. When I started writing The Sexes back in the early 1990s the idea was to talk about issues that defined the rapidly changing gender equations between men and women in India. For the first time since Independence, India was in the throes of dealing with fluid and baffling attitudes towards sex and sexual mores. The changes we were living through were so dramatic and radical they had to be squarely addressed sans moralistic judgments. I believed my job as a columnist was to reflect these changes and comment on the new contours of man-woman relationships. What started off as a jaunty fortnightly column in one of Indias best read weeklies (The Week), soon acquired a loyal following (thank you, readers, you are my oxygen, nutrition, daily work out and indulgent treat), and once that precious relationship gets established as strongly, it becomes an addiction. Today, I cannot do without my daily fix of words I mainline on them. Take away all else from me if you must, Oh Lord! I pray but leave those precious words!

Shobhaa D
Mumbai, 2013

All hail the arrival of the Himbette. Huh?

Its the male bimbette, in case you are wondering and the creature is right here, in our backyard. A few years back Bollywood gave birth to this special species in style, with the launch of a towel-dropping debutant (Ranbir Kapoor in Sanjay Leela Bhansalis Saawariya), and a six-pack flaunting middle-aged superstar (Shah Rukh Khan in Farah Khans Om Shanti Om). The war of the male sex symbols was taken to the next level with the publicity machines on both sides going into overdrive about what else? The overexposure. Ranbirs butt was pitted against SRKs abs and audiences were overjoyed as the drool metre registered wild swings.

Men in Hollywood have flexed their biceps for decades. Good old Arnie (Arnold Schwarzenegger), also a former grinning governor of California, was quite the pin-up boy in his time, as was beefcake Sylvester Stallone. There was Tarzan and his leather loin cloth, followed by a buck naked Brad Pitt as Achilles in Wolfgang Petersens Troy (2004). But even Hollywood stopped short of blatantly publicizing films by exploiting the heroes physical attributes at each and every stage.

The two Bollywood dhamakas, on the other hand, went all out to promote various body parts of the males in the movie, in a manner that is really in your face. Strangely enough, even the stars went along with the sexist promos that dissected their anatomy in intimate detail. SRK gave countless interviews about his six-pack how, where and why he acquired the taut mass of muscle, while Ranbir coyly simpered through several interviews revolving around his derriere! Wow! Youve come a long way, baby. What an amazing reversal of roles and perfect timing, too!

Werent we sick of reading about Mallika Sherawats ample assets, or Raakhi Sawants belly button? Isnt India completely familiar with Malaika Arora Khans cute bum and Bipasha Basus heaving bosom? The girls have been brazening it out for years. Women in showbiz are no strangers to the maxim: The more you show, the more the biz. It needed a Raakhi Sawant to put the whole debate into perfect perspective when she stated boldly on a television show: