17Again was a movie I quite enjoyed watching. The plot is simple, if not evident from the title already. Mathew Perry (who I adore) gets a chance to rewind his life to the way he always wanted to. Zac Efron, essays the younger Perry and goes back to school to regain his Football star status. That he eventually moves on to the path of self discovery is a given and we all get a happy ending. And that left me thinking, how many times have we wished, if we could turn back time?
Right enough to add fuel to the fire, I chanced upon this ad, 18 again. I laughed at the choice of a plagiarized name. One look at the ad, I was cursing the advertising agency too! Whoever said you need to be 18 to learn to dance? Oh yeah, there is that bit of being a virgin all over again, which is debatable really. We still have virgins at 18 these days? If not, why the hue and cry over a cherry that you’ve popped way back in history. Why would any woman in her sane mind want to grow it all back? Such a huge issue over a tissue, I tell you. And I’m sure most men would not want a virgin either. I mean it is obvious; knowledge is what helps in the long run, no? One way street is a no man’s paradise. Two-way traffic ensures there are no unnecessary jams.
Tight is not exactly flattering. I mean we want our new shoes to get comfortable and love to slip into a snug pair of jeans. Tight is uncomfortable, awkward and destined to be loose eventually. Laws of gravity. So what in the world would I do with a revamped vagina that behaved like a snooty bitch and refused to be warm and accommodating? My entire being would be redirected to the scares of waning puberty, now long forgotten. I shuddered at being reintroduced, to a subject I’d already mastered. So far, the prospect of turning 18 all over again had been nothing short of a nightmare.
In the animal kingdom, the male species are the ‘good looking’ ones. Clearly, since they need to attract the female species for furthering their tribe. However, the equation changes when we come to the social animal. And so, the retail markets have cause to thrive on products that promise you the eternal fount of youth. What they don’t get is every wrinkle is rightfully earned, every frown line is a nostalgic memory. I might not conform to your standards of perfection, that is because I am a masterpiece! There is just nobody else like me. So why should I give up that privilege? I am me with all the cellulite, spots and dark armpits. Deal with it.
In all this, if you talk to me about hygiene and care, I will listen. You discuss about incontinence, I will understand. You speak about menstrual cramps I will agree. You promote education about women’s health, I will participate. Don’t make me a specimen to test the crores of rupees you spend on promoting a product that you think I need.
Yes I can break into a melodrama about women’s rights, liberation et al, but that won’t take either of us anywhere. You have a product to sell. I have just another product I won’t buy. Not because I am embarrassed to do so. Heck, I check the latest flavours for condoms, so there you go. But because you have not succeeded in telling me why I need this product. Salsa I know. Kegel exercises I do. Mother-in-law I don’t have. So now what are we left with?
And just in case you haven’t realized by now, it is never just the sex for us ladies. Show us a man who can hold an intelligent conversation and we will show you a woman on top.