Me: Bhaiya vo 36 size ka dikhana
This mere statement acted like a license for the vendor to analyze my breasts size after deep scanning.
And for some odd reason there is always some guy behind the counter named something like chotu or raju.
Chotu: Are madam aap 34 hi lo, 36 to aapke liye zada ho jaaega
And I secretly wished to ask his mathematical formula that he applied by looking at my breasts to guess the right size. Although, his only highest qualification was limited to staring at all kind of breasts with different shapes and sizes.
Because he answered with so damn confidence that I was forced to look down at my twin buddies and ask –Really is he right? As I couldn’t stand much in that awkward situation thus the result is that I am still wearing salesman bhaiya ki favorite bra.
For guys let me just put it in perspective. This is like going to a chemist shop to buy condoms and you are like-“bhaiya vo condom dena zara”.
The chemist guy goes down to stare at your crotch and be like –
“chotu, vo holi ke chote vale balloon hai na, vo le k aana”
In his expert opinion he might be like-sorry beta but you can afford magnum only in case of ice- cream, hard luck in this case! A
nd you are like fuckkk, what? Exactly!! We feel the same dude.
We women know that our lingerie is more than just underwear.
We pay a lot of time and attention to what kind of lingerie we should buy, and what to wear when.
But like any relationship, ours with lingerie is not all that simple. We’ve all had some weird stories with those boob-supporting and wedgie-inducing pieces of clothing, and despite our frustration, these stories make us smile.
Once the shopkeeper actually put on push-up bra over his t-shirt and demonstrated to me and two others how it works- Arey dekhiye madam kitna comfortable hai?. I mean thanx, but no thanx.
Dude get this straight, If you find it so comfortable then you wear it but, I want the one that I asked for *ahh..frustrating*
Bra’s were never just the piece of supportive undergarments for beasts. A-three-letter-word the world is obsessed with.
Though, a garment like any other, the connotations behind it are much more intricate. Breasts are an emblem of women sexuality and are not just perceived as mammary glands, but also as objects worth shaming a woman for.
Often objectified, ridiculed, and lusted after, they are often looked down upon as Achilles heel. Once my neighbor uncle picked up my bra, which had fallen from the balcony, with a stick as if it was some piece of filth and asked in front of everyone-Beta ye tumhara hai?
I wanted to yell back and answer- Hell yeah, it’s mine. And it is the same piece of cloth that you secretly enjoy unhooking from your wife’s body.
Rude? Yeah, because the way you carried it over a stick was not respectful either. Although, I did not do not yell at him.
I took it and went straight back to my room, not because I can’t rebel but because I am so called ‘Sanskaari’ and also Sharmaji’s Daughter thus, carry all the burdens of society.
“Breasts are those round things that sing the tyranny of twin alphabets AA BB CC DD. They make you pay the toll for the burden of being too shy or the curse of being too bold”
How can a woman make the world understand that the round flesh they so callously insult or use as a mainstay of songs, embellished with cheap, vulgar lyrics have to endure a lot?
And indeed they do. You cover up tight and you are labeled a prude. But, if that neckline of yours inches towards your bosom, you are branded a s**t. One that has no shame and is deemed an object worth ogling at.
But, do they signify weakness in women? Their tenderness is not a sign of weakness. They after all, feed a new-born and fuel life.
Also, while most women of my age blame men for the compulsion to cover up the cleavage, my frustration lies elsewhere.
There are times when I wish my mom hadn’t made breasts sound like the devil or things that I should be ashamed of.
I was made aware that my assets now had to be carefully guarded from the prying eyes of strangers and how I must now not wear clothes that compliment my figure.
If in a parallel universe that would have happened, who knows, I would have been a much confident woman, with a wardrobe full of things in the right size and not the salesman’s choice.
— Image credit: Tristan Savatier