Random memories of my graduation years and the English literature lectures suddenly struck a chord with the pseudo feminist part of me & I realized how every poet, author, philosopher who had written of women always made it a point that the women they wrote of or spoke of always came across as beautiful & serene. And by beautiful I do not mean just the physical embodiment of the female body but also the fact that they made it a point that women were compared to everything blissful & pure and yet the comparison always lead to the conclusion that women are more beautiful, bold, pure & individualistic than any other element of life like water & a wet woman, fire & the passion, wind & the fun, earth & the beauty...
As, I turn pages of books these days irrespective of the author and the country of origin of the book or the author I find women an integral part of all of their writings, Milan Kundera or Khushwant Singh, Vikram Seth or Tarun Tejapal, the description of the experiences with women and the different shades of women in their lives form an important aspect & part of their writings whether directly or in the third person. From the beautifully described verses on eroticism to the painful yet compelling paras on the emptiness of the male existence without the presence of the female, not merely the fact that women are a part of these writings printed on paper but they make the paper come to life with the raw energy and passion the pen puts in their characters. From the passion to the sacrifice, the thought to the body, the feel to the rage, the love to the erotic adventure, she just seems to complete very emotion with boldness yet purity, more or less like a free flowing river which is bold, strong, full of rage yet still, pure & serene. And, as I look back at my own life as a Radio Presenter I realize how boring would radio be if there were no women, I mean imagine just talking to men all day about men, around men and with men... Kinda CREEPY !!!!
But, then why at the same time as I write about the female embodiment of beauty & pleasure I pity, when I leave work and see an Arab lady dressed in a traditional outfit sitting and begging at Edgware road, London, right opposite posh cafes where people sit out smoking Shisha, and drinking expensive coffee & with their arms around each other and their tongues exploring the lips of their loved ones, with their hands trying to make way up and around T-shirts and their eyes closed in pleasure, and right in front of them sit a helpless woman whose innocence, purity and beauty strike me and yet I can't do anything. Her fair face, the deep eyes are sharply visible in contrast to the black outfit she is wearing, I didn't even understand what she said but I knew she asked for money from the hand motion, and I gave her 5 pounds and she looked at my face & smiled and how I could see and feel the pain behind her eyes yet the smile on her lips as if she was trying to tell me I am beautiful under the dirty outfit and my desires are as pure as they can be, and she leaned a bit & kissed my hand, and I felt the helplessness in her trembling lips as they touched my hand and I felt the chill run up my body and I pulled my hand back & probably she realized why I did it and when I say her desires I do mean the desire to be felt and feel, to close her eyes and know that when she opens the world will be a better place for her, that she will someday be a part of the society that looks down on her.
The world has come a long way from Shakespeare to Bernard Shaw, it has developed and grown, the desires have become endless and the feelings of human beings somewhere suppressed or sometimes lost in the concrete jungles oh human civilization and then I see two women right opposite each other, one on a raised deck in an expensive open air cafe, the other under a tree trembling in the cold, one of them kissing in pleasure, the other kissing to express gratitude, both right next to a structure that holds a casino, I realize if their is some place where beauty, pleasure, pain, ecstasy, realization all come together, it has to be in a woman, because she not only reminds me of the beauty left in the world but also of the fact that beauty is not just merely the color of the skin or the shape of the body, beauty is the feeling a woman gives the world..
No wonder, "Women Are Always Beautiful"