REALITY Bites

I talk about men. Does that mean, women don’t hold my interest? Not really, I have always felt the woman inside me. All the qualities of a woman like compassion, jealousy, the extent to which they love, sacrifice. In fact, I respect a woman more than a man. Since childhood, I have been surrounded by women and have seen a gamut of emotions through my eyes simultaneously.

I didn’t have any friends till my graduation. I have always felt the security among women which included my mother, grandmother, sister and my aunties. Being in a joint family, youngest of them all and dominated by women, I have never really tried to feel like a man. I have experienced the extreme love and wrath of a woman. My mother has been the greatest teacher to me. Apart from my education, job, success, failures there was someone who taught me to be as compassionate as a woman, feel the pain of others the way a woman feels without uttering a word, being the epitome of sacrifice. In the process from childhood to adulthood, I never really felt to be a man and do all the things which are considered manly enough.

Yes, I do talk about men. And, being with a man makes me happy more than being with a woman. But, that doesn’t take away the sheer desperateness to understand a woman. I have been with a lot of woman and there’s always a mystery in their eyes. Behind all those backbiting, there’s always a mind who worries about others, in every bitter words, there is an exchange of feelings which only a woman can emote. I have always loved a man with the likes of a woman and loved a woman with a vengeance the way she loves a man. For me, there is no sharing in a relationship.

Yes, I do talk about men and feel secured when there is someone to support and take care of me as I have undergone the sheer pain and loneliness and craved for a shoulder which is strong enough to support me physically and give me a mental high. No, I am not in the midst of “Identity Crisis”, but it’s a “Reality Bite” of my life. It’s true that when I am alone, I am myself. And, infront, of those gazing eyes, I can be the best of person which resembles to the quality of a mother caring for her children or sometimes worst, which resembles to that of a woman’s jealousy, hatredness or sometimes ambitious enough that I instill the qualities of sheer determination, mental strength and sacrifice in myself. Behind every action of mine as a man, there’s a golden touch of attributes of a woman.