Congratulations are in order

No, I didn’t find what I was looking for in my last post. This is more important.

The Statcounter crossed the 1,000 mark! Whoa!

I’m not a career-minded bitch

At least not by the standards of the article I discussed in my last post. If you remember, Mr. Noer’s career woman makes more than US$ 30,000 a year. That’s more than I make, so I don’t fit. But I’m still going to have a tough time finding a guy to marry. Ask why.

First off, I’m a career-minded bitch by every other definition. I want a career. I love my job. I don’t know if I’ll love cooking and cleaning as much as I love my job. I don’t think my job is a surrogate for motherhood (or vice versa), so I’m unlikely to quit working to raise kids. (And yes, I’m a slob who can make a man sick.)

And I want a man who not only is willing to accept all of the above, but (hold your breath) someone who won’t think my work outside the home is less important than his, even though I’ll never make more money than he does. Who’ll value my career by what it means to me, not by what the job pays. Who’ll catch my eye when someone says “that’s a good job for a woman” and smile a smile that’s meant just for me.

See what I mean by tough?

Sigh.

P.S. Read this!

Blaming the career-minded bitch

I found something today that gave me the shock of my feminist life. An article in Forbes that is headed “Don’t marry career women”. Forbes pulled it down, apparently, and put it back up with a counterpoint. (Link via Boing Boing)

Let’s see what Michael Noer has to say:

If a host of studies are to be believed, marrying these women is asking for trouble. If they quit their jobs and stay home with the kids, they will be unhappy (Journal of Marriage and Family, 2003).

Can you believe that?!

They will be unhappy if they make more money than you do (Social Forces, 2006). You will be unhappy if they make more money than you do (Journal of Marriage and Family, 2001).

How unreasonable! Your being unhappy will make her unhappy!

You will be more likely to fall ill (American Journal of Sociology). Even your house will be dirtier (Institute for Social Research).

That wouldn’t, of course, have anything to do with the fact that you can’t pick up after yourself.

In classic economics, a marriage is, at least in part, an exercise in labor specialization. Traditionally men have tended to do “market” or paid work outside the home and women have tended to do “non-market” or household work, including raising children. All of the work must get done by somebody, and this pairing, regardless of who is in the home and who is outside the home, accomplishes that goal

So, in situations where the division of labour ceases to operate on gender terms, where the woman unreasonably decides she wants a share of the “market” work (what the heck is that, anyway?), let’s not marry.

I can’t believe how sexist this man Noer is. Married career women are unhappy. So Noer says:

Marry pretty women or ugly ones. Short ones or tall ones. Blondes or brunettes. Just, whatever you do, don’t marry a woman with a career.

Ah. So the problem is not in your marriage. (No studies on how many husbands of career woman do a fair share of the housework). The problem is not in the workplace. (No studies on how stressed women feel by the glass ceiling, or sexual harassment). The problem is not in a culture that keeps telling married career women that they have to compromise on either career or family, and that if they have a fantastic career, they should feel guilty about having neglected their ‘natural’ role as homemakers. (No studies on how pervasive that guilt is).

The problem is with the woman who wants a career and a marriage. She wants too much. Bitch.

Update: Feministe has a beautiful riposte. Link via Within/Without. Also check out what Indian Writing and Falstaff have to say. And just in case you think Mr. Noer is an exception, take a look at Rediff‘s Message Board on this.

Predicting the weather

A bank of black clouds. It just decided to pour down in sheets… straight, erect rain, without a wind. No respite from the sultriness of yesterday.

Stopped? 

——

As the black dissolved into an indeterminate grey, I could smell the rain again. Settled into a steady – what? rain. No more. Not a downpour, nor a drizzle. It’s cooler now.

Stopped.

———

The breeze’s picked up where the rain left off. Faintly scented with mud, faintly with leaves. In through the window, out through the door.

The sky is turning blue again.

Waterfront

Finally ate at the Waterfront yesterday. It’s that fancy place on Necklace Road that I’ve ogled at from the outside and been wanting to try out for a while.

It’s on Necklace Road, as I said, overlooking the lake. All glass, discreetly covered with curtains on three sides (not on the lake side, obviously!) There’s also a terrace, smartly positioned a little lower than the indoor area, so the view is unobstructed. We ate on the terrace – lighted with little hanging bulbs, a barbecue (a tandoor, actually!) at one end. It’s a beautiful view – the lights of the city reflecting in the water, far enough away to keep the sense of peace and quiet.

Nice large tables, comfortably big chairs, not too high, with armrests and all. Enough space between tables to be able to have a conversation without being interrupted by other peoples’ cell phones. What surprised me, though was the absence of tables for two or three – they were all four-six tops.

We walked in early – before they started serving, but a hostess received us, and explained the cover charge to us. She actually explained it, and apparently there was even a board explaining it! Made me laugh at the time, but I suppose it makes sense in Hyderabad! One thing I do wonder about is why she didn’t see us to our seats when we said we’d prefer to dine al fresco. Especially given the fact that you have to leave through the front door and go round to reach the terrace – there’s no direct entry from the restaurant.

But the food was excellent, the service was superb (we were in a hurry, and they managed to be quick, efficient and still attentive!). The ambience – a beautiful setting, good taste in furniture (though the indoor area had some ghastly artificial trees), cutlery and linen – definitely good.

A cover charge of Rs.350 a head is definitely not too bad, and around Rs. 1800 for a dinner for three (two non-vegetarians and a vegetarian), including drinks and starters may be expensive by Hyderabad standards, but not excessively so. All in all, a very enjoyable meal, and a fine restaurant.

shehnai.jpg

Shyam bin sakhi

Bhairavi

Playing Chaperone

Yesterday, BikerGirl and I played chaperone to a bunch of kids at a movie, so we got to watch Bommarillu. Apparently the movie’s set to become a hit, and I devoutly hope it does!

First off, it has Siddhardha in it – the cute kid from Rang De Basanti (yeah, shame on me, that’s how I identified him!) Now, that kid is not just cute, he can actually act. And how many Telugu movie heroes can do that? Of course, it also has Genelia playing the female lead – and she has a very irritating mudarababy attitude, baby-talking her way through the role. But apart from that, even she does a competent job with her role – and she actually has one! More on that later. Prakash Raj, another handsome man who can act, plays S’s father, and the rest of the supporting cast are competent too.

The story is quite simple – LeadBoy has controlling but affectionate Father who makes all his decisions for him – even chooses a girl for him to marry. Please note, this is not an evil controlling father, just an affectionate one who happens to end up controlling the lives of everyone in the family because he loves doing things for them. So LeadBoy simply develops a different personality for home and a different one for outside. Not very different – just makes sure his parents don’t know about the fights he gets into, his drinking bouts with friends, his jumping walls in the middle of the night…

Now, after LeadBoy’s engaged to GirlChosenByFather, he meets LeadGirl, and promptly falls for her free-spiritedness. This free-spiritedness is supposed to be evidenced by her tendency to make friends with everyone she meets, and a most irritating tendency to behave like a baby. Never mind, the idea is good – he falls in love with a person, not a face or a body.

Which brings me to the LeadGirl – she has a clearly defined character, instead of the singing bimbettes most movies thrust on us. She loves opentop buses, goes twenty kilometres to have a coffee at her favourite place (the bit where the cafe guy, her friend, yells – “rendu coffee, special – cuppu kadugu ra! – is priceless!), wants icecream in the middle of the night, tells everyone everything – she would be lovable if she didn’t screech her way through all of it! She even has a normal reaction to learning the LeadBoy is engaged to another girl – she tries to ignore him, but ends up telling him to choose – she can’t go around feeling sad all the while, she says.

And there’s none of the usual camera gazing at parts of her and reducing her to her breasts/waist/face/eyes/hair/toenail business either – I really couldn’t believe I was watching a Telugu movie!

Anyway, to get back to the story, the Father finds out about LeadBoy’s little romance, storms a little, and LeadBoy convinces him to let LeadGirl live in their house for a week before he decides that she is ‘not suited’ to his son. Rather unbelievable, but still…

So LeadGirl spends a week in LeadBoy’s house, unwittingly letting everyone know everything that he’s kept secret – from the fact that he doesn’t like white down to his plans to start a business of his own. Each time she does this, he scolds her, and they make up. Till the last time.

The day the Father is to announce his decision on LeadGirl, she interrupts him to say that she doesn’t want to marry LeadBoy. He’s not right for me, she says, and walks out.

The movie ends happily, of course, and the scene where LeadBoy tells his father exactly what went wrong is a lovely piece of melodrama. Not overdone, no blaming, no loud dramatic music in the background, but still enough melodrama to warm the hearts of a Telugu-movie watcher.

So, overall, I was pleasantly surprised. Go watch it, you will be too!