We love men. They’re so useful when jam jars refuse to open
Do women need men? Sure! And we’re not going to be all Rosie the Riveter about it. You know her, right? This polka dot head wrap lady. She’s strong
You don’t have to need men in a romantic sense only — they can be in the form of friends, wellwishers, support staff…
Afriend of mine WhatsApped me in the morning. “Rise and shine,” she wrote. “I have news for you.” I could “see” her furiously typing away (so-and-so is typing, as WhatsApp always points out). Then, came the expansive newsletter. “I have decided I don’t need a man in my life. Men are only good for causing nuisance (sic), I’m through with them. I’m my own woman.”
And then, the reiteration: “Gosh, men! Who needs them?”
Well, I need men for all sorts of things, I told her (on WhatsApp). The first thing that came to mind was: to get my (specially ‘couriered’ from Delhi) gooseberry jam bottles opened. They come with heavy-duty sealing, and no amount of dunking the lid in scalding water gives way to a smooth twist and voila! Each bottle (that lasts me a fortnight, no more) just needs the sturdy hands of a man to caress the top, and it pops neatly. Usually, my cleaner gets to do the honours. He’s a man who doesn’t even talk to me, only grunts (in the affirmative usually) when I present him with endless possibilities — such as the proposal to un-jam jam jars… it’s a win-win arrangement.
I realise my gooseberry jam connection may have been borne out of a fond memory — reading a piece by Jane Gordon in the Daily Mail a couple of years ago. ‘50 reasons why a woman really DOES need a man’. In that, she observed, “We really are the weaker sex — and the shorter one. I need a man with the strength to open a jar of cranberry sauce with one hand and the height to reach the top shelf in the kitchen with the other.” There it was. Gooseberry jam vs cranberry sauce. And the fact that I get random male friends to replace my wall clock battery when it dies a timed death; even standing atop a stool, I’m too short to do justice. Jane and I could be soul sisters.
Had to go back to that link, and re-read the 50 reasons. Fantastic stuff. Irreverently funny and lacerating poignant. Read between the lines: “I know it’s pathetic but I can’t face going to the cinema alone and my female friends only want to see romantic comedies. I need a man who hates girlie movies to sit next to me in the cinema.” And, “You hear some strange, scary noises in the country at night. I need a man to calmly explain that it’s just the floorboards settling and not a crazed axe man coming to kill me.” And, “I desperately need a man to hog my remote control and stop me rotting my brain on reality drivel…” And, the awww-so-sweet “I need a man with strong shoulders to cry on and say ‘it’s only a film, huge spoiler alert! the dog didn’t really die’, the next time I sob my heart out over Marley & Me.”
Obviously, there had to be a flip side, and the next line that flashed in front of me, as I got up to brew my morning cup of Darjeeling tea (the teabag variety), was Irina Dunn’s “A woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle” (I know, I know, the line gets attributed to Gloria Steinem most of the time, but it’s Dunn all the way). I mulled over ‘for and against’ while I gave teabag two minutes to turn from colourless to medium-brown. Then, I called up my Dunn-ish friend. “You know, you don’t have to need men in a romantic sense only — they can be in the form of friends, well-wishers, support staff… Did you mean you wanted to dispense with the entire set altogether?”
“Well, yes,” she snapped back. “I don’t want to depend on men any more. In whatever form.”
“But can you do heavy lifting?” I persisted. “Men can be awfully good in that department, you know. And the ladies, well, not so good.”
“Aren’t you quite the poster girl of the feminist movement?” was her hang-up line.
I guess she lost her temper because I wasn’t supportive of her “independent” intentions. What to do? I’m with my soul sister on this. Men can be total pains in the wrong place at times. But so can women. “Don’t fall into a man-hating trap, woman,” I WhatsApped at top speed. I sent her the link to the Daily Mail piece, with a note: here’s why you need a man in your life. She sent me a ‘rolling eyes’ emoji.
Meanwhile, my last-opened gooseberry jam bottle is almost over. Good news is my Man Friday is coming to clean and dust this Friday morning. And twist the bottle cap open.