Window Shopping

Woman, especially, if she have the misfortune of knowing anything, should conceal it as well as she can.
Jane Austen

The misogynistic prancing of random aunties and their sons to inspect young girls, with the foreseeable conclusion of deeming them ‘acceptable’ or otherwise for all practical purposes of ‘holy matrimony’ is definitely an age old exercise in more ways than one.

Considering that I am so emphatically against such rituals, the amiable adaptability I am expressing to my mommy and grandmommy’s wishes is proving to be a surprise, most of all to myself. I am rather proud of myself for having managed to contain all outward signs of contempt, ridicule and malice…all of which are sufficiently active beneath the surface to warrant being put on display.

Perhaps the reason for my apparent detachment is the trump card awarded to all girls but one which very few bother to exercise in spirit. I am discovering with shocking alacrity the fact that relatively sane women (arguably, if there is such a thing) tend to change tack within seconds when faced with what ‘appears to be’ a promising prospect on paper. This usually denotes a degree of wealth, appearance, social breeding with specific emphasis on pedigree and an amiable nature. Common sense, if prevailed upon, would insist that none of the above can ever be gauged accurately regarding another individual, but in my gratifyingly limited experience common sense is not called upon much in these matters.

Having recently relived my Jane Austen fixation, it is interesting to observe that Eastern women are conveniently stuck in what the world recalls as the ‘Victorian Era’. Words such as felicity, prospects, ‘Man of consequence’ and ‘Dainty but willful’ sound pretty coming from Fanny Price, but they lose all sense of grandeur when they are translated in Urdu. A fact which is altogether ironic, considering the latter is usually an instrument for beautification. Nevertheless the crux is the same….money, class and character.

Foolish of us to assume that a pseudo-tea party in the company of absolute strangers can help accomplish an accurate assessment of either. Regardless, it is an interesting exercise to observe. Since the female/object in question is not really required to speak or profess her opinions during the proceedings it allows her free reign to watch at will. The most amusing aspect has to be the fluctuating flitters of language and tone, ‘tis all a prattle of sugar and smiles and winsome wiles’, none of which the likes of I are made of.

But I am determined to continue for the following reasons:

a) Sitting through this blatant, un –called for assessment of my person allows me to hold - in silent contempt- all those that surround me and much as I loathe to admit it, this is oddly gratifying.

b) There is an added element of merriment in socializing passively without having to actively participate in the proceedings. Especially since every word spoken, by every person at such occasions is akin to critical negotiations at the highest level of political intrigue, which modern television has proven we are all interested in.

c) Such blatant disregard for the feelings of the object (female) and her hoard of orchestrating relatives by the subject (male) and his hoard of critics can only act as a test of character and forbearance, both of which one cannot ever have enough of.

Further, this exercise -if taken in the spirit it ought- is very much akin to Window shopping and since shopping in general is not acknowledged as a masculine pursuit, the picking of preferences and subsequent rejection of them all falls to the female. A reversal of roles proves much more interesting when it goes unnoticed and is conducted secretly in the presence of others. It would do well for us all to simply sit and watch the produce on display, just as we are being watched. After all women are much more critical about the purchases they make.

Best of all, this banner allows for the use of that delightful phrase “Sorry I wont be buying anything today, I’m only looking”.