FEMINIST FRIEND

BY BISWADEEP GHOSH

Jonathan considered himself unique. He was the only male writer he knew who wrote one feminist article every week. What's more, he, unlike many other scribes around him, actually believed in what he said. So convinced was Jonathan about his ideological positioning that some called him the chairman of SCUM, a term coined by a writer whose name he remembered no longer. Since SCUM stood for the Society for Cutting Up Men, who else but Jonathan deserved to head it, considering he took men to the cleaners once every seven days in some newspaper or the other?

For this protagonist of ours, the last two days had been pathetic. He had been lying on the bed with a high fever all alone. Most of his time had been spent hoping that someone would bunk his or her work, and chat with him for a while. As he flipped through the pages of a glossy, a familar voice made him look up. "Hi Johnny," Betty yelled as she walked in, her face barely visible behind a huge pile of books. From the corner of his eyes, Jonathan saw two familiar surnames on the books' spines. Faludi, Steinem: Betty, who was as militant a feminist as he was, had come equipped for some stimulating discussion.

But, he had got it all wrong, since this is what Betty did. She kept the books on the top of an almirah, and murmured, "Today, I want to see There's Something About Mary."

"Betty, I am down with fever," he replied, "Besides, why do you want to see such a stupid comedy?"

"Once in a while, I find stupidity most acceptable," she grinned, "I will keep my brain outside before walking in. Also, I think you should also see a fun film without taxing yourself too much."

To show just how disgusted he was, Jonathan reached out for the thermometer. After shaking it a few times, he put it inside his mouth. Exactly one minute later, he brought out the thermometer and looked at it. "Oh God," he mumbled, as if to show that his temperature was one thousand degrees above normal.

"I am sure you don't have very high temperature now," Betty chirped, "Can you dress up quickly please?"

"You seem to be obsessed with the film, " Jonathan groaned, "Don't you know that I have a serious problem with any movie that commodifies women?" He paused awhile and added, "I thought you shared my feelings, but it seems I am wrong."

"Why do you need to intellectualise on anything and everything?" Betty sounded irritated, and that she was. "What is wrong with enjoying mindless stuff occasionally may I know?"

"There is nothing wrong with it. Nothing at all, " Jonathan stared at her metamorphosed avatar, "The only problem, apart from my fever, is that today is the first day and we won't get the tickets."

"Chill, man, "Betty seemed to have a solution for everything, "I got the tickets while coming here, knowing I will convince you to come along. I stood in the ladies queue, and got the tickets very easily."

"You stood in the ladies queue?"

"Yes," she said, adding conspiratorially, "Don't worry. None of our like-thinking buddies saw me. Now, shall we...?"

Leaving his bed, Jonathan stood up slowly. Then, he reached out for a shirt lying close by. A few feet away, his friend sat, eyeing the tickets she had bought. There was something about Betty, he thought to himself, and may be since she was a special feminist who knew when to make the most of a ladies queue.

(The copyright of this column rests with The Maharashtra Herald)