Wednesday, February 11, 2009
♪ ♪ Sab ne pehna di chaddi... ♪ ♪ ♪
I am not sending them perverts a pink chaddi.... and this has nothing to do with the fact that I am petrified of posing for photographs, for as I write, there is a photo shoot in progress where all our in-house chaddi chuckers are posing with the package.
Now, there is no way I am parting with any of my killer pink underwear for the under-developed morons that populate the over-hyped misogynist Senas of the world.... but to go all the way and buy one to send out? Well, now THAT is what you call a moral dilemma! What to buy? Cotton comfortables from your neighbourhood store or uber-sexy unmentionables from the lingerie store downtown? I know I speak for a lot of women who parted with their panties this week, for it all boils down to one thing: what does you underwear say about you?
Now, I am willing enough to wear my slip on my sleeve, but I am a bit petty about what I let peek. So, do I want to make a general statement or a much more specific one? Hmmm... now which chaddi to send?? The luxe, lacy one, or the one in the corner of the dresser whose elastic has reached the point of no rebound, but which survives as a sentimental souvenir? Do I inscribe it with little hearts? What perfume do I spray on it: the floral for the demure or the spicy for the saucy? And what should my message read like? Love you hamesha? Or... Kutte!! Mein tera khooooon pee jayoongi?
The problem is that the chaddi campaign seems to be taking on the avatar of a snob hit. Much like Dev D, the psychedelic psych-fest I quite enjoyed this past weekend. For there's a whole lot of grey amid the pink. I'm fiercely independent, jealously guard my privacy and right to be and love the odd pub-hopping night out. But do I think that the next time I have to leave my favourite watering hole well before the guys, as it is 'getting late and I need to drive home alone', the thought of Muthalik and his Morons sniffing a carton full of lingerie is going to make me throw caution to the winds and decide to linger? Or maybe that the next time I hear that old hat about "ladeej who drink and have cigrate", all I need to do is strangle the bastards with a pretty pink peignoir and all will be well?
Above all, what I find a bit baffling is that by christening the FB group that started it all a "Consortium of Loose, Pubgoing... blah blah", i.e taking two steps back in trying to take one forward, they might have lost the plot way before they hit the climax. I mean, isn't that the same connection those cretins made? So, are we throwing them the gauntlet or throwing away the game by beating the issue pink, instead of ignoring those ignoramuses and truly painting the town red?
Oh, its all very well, I suppose and maybe I am just pissed cos I couldn't strike a pose while finding the heart to part with my pretty pink polkas! So, for now, I'm holding on to my chadds and getting the hell out of here. Man, I need a beer. Aye Ganpat....!