Way to a lady's heart

I don’t know why I write this column. The silence from my readers is only infrequently broken by brickbats and flak that is flung in my general direction for not knowing anything about (A) the subject (B) the objective and (C) good effortless writing. And yet, I persist. If the scores of disappointed women and broken relationships that I have left in my wake haven’t managed to bestow upon me the wisdom to deter from further exploiting this space, then why should I let a few detractors get my unusually high spirits down right? I can almost hear some of you wondering who my dealer is� But this fortnight hasn’t been easy on me. I have been in the wrong, like one who has crossed over to the dark side. That’s about all I need to divulge for now.

And as I try and return things to normalcy, what I have realised is that (A) women are, uncannily enough, almost always right, and (B) if they are, in the odd possibility, somewhat mildly ambiguous enough to be considered wrong, don’t even think about revelling in it. Do not rub it in their face, else they will besmirch your face with so much more dirt from your own boudoir that you’d be asphyxiated instantly.

So, the only permissible action around women is one of devotion and faith. These, practised over a period of time, help build trust which, after pregnancy, is the most awesome skin glow product out there. And unlike pregnancy, it works for men too.

Not meaning or trying to sound preachy this time around, but the reason I am mentioning all this is to remind you that in the battle of the sexes, we men are no competition for women. Equal rights are a ridiculous concept because women are clearly superior and deserve better while we men aren’t mature enough to handle equality yet. In light of such wisdom, there can never be a relationship where the man doesn’t benefit more than the woman. Coupled men are happier than single women but paired up women are unhappier than single men, and this little factoid explains the pros and cons of relationships in one simple equation.

So what is the moral, the essence of this piece, apart from highlighting my derailed train of thoughts disjointly strung together here? None so far. It’s mostly an empty epiphany, a silent alarm, if you may — one that I should have paid heed to a lot earlier. I am sounding it here for all of you who are currently occupied with a relationship. You will never quite understand women if you complicate what is needed to keep them happy — love and sunshine mostly, with the occasional pair of shoes and solitaire. It’s that simple. Now, go and learn to put it into practice. And wish me luck!