A difficult woman

3

 

Haven’t you heard about the difficult woman ?

That eccentric and finicky human,

The one you have to deal with at work,

Bossing around with a frown and a smirk,

For she has such quintessential traits,

And for you, reader, let me lay those straight.

 

If she is a team leader and seems exacting,

She is fussy and overreacting,

A crazy and hyper human,

She is, a difficult woman.

 

If she loses her temper at the job,

She is hot-blooded and a snob,

And she being a woman, it’s probably her raging hormones at work,

Menopause, PMS, or something to do with her cycles, that she is such a jerk,

A crazy and hyper human,

She is, a difficult woman.

 

If she strives for perfection,

And encourages others in the same direction,

She may think that she wanted to give it her best shot,

But she was over-demanding and impossible, is what we thought,

Oh dear, that crazy and hyper human,

How does she manage to be a difficult woman ?

 

If she does things in a systematic way,

And doesn’t take any short cuts come what may,

She is a pain in the butt exasperating,

And in no uncertain terms, irritating and frustrating.

If sloppiness at work she doesn’t permit,

And doesn’t take any lame excuses or bullshit,

She is the dirt of the ditch,

In the mildest of words, a nasty witch.

A crazy and hyper human,

She is, a difficult woman.

 

If she works long hours and expects dedication,

Diligence at work, and no procrastination,

“ No wonder she’s single !”, comes the cognition,

For her personal life, the most logical explanation.

If she seems impatient, and ‘loses it’, once in a while,

Furrows her brows, looks annoyed or drops the smile,

The reason is most definitely, a spousal strife,

And she is, without doubt, ‘frustrated’ in her personal life.

Oh that crazy and hyper human,

She is, most certainly, a difficult woman.

 

If she gives orders, she throws her weight,

If she questions an order, she is insubordinate.

Belligerent and argumentative, if she raises a concern,

Obstinate and headstrong, if she doesn’t back down in an argument and turn.

She is a crazy and hyper human,

Alas, a difficult woman !

 

If she tries to show her mettle, in a work ‘not meant for the ladies,’

Well, she is odd and peculiar, coz she should be making babies.

Dresses up and she has put on airs,

Dresses down and she needs repairs.

Oh that short fused, overreacting, stubborn human,

She is, such a difficult woman !

Metro Womaniya

metro

 

Beware the female, on the Delhi metro scourging,

In the ladies compartment, surging,

In pursuit of a glimpse of an empty space,

Attacking at a frantic pace,

In an already packed coach,

She’d aim for that wedge to encroach,

Between two women, sitting together side to side,

And head straight towards the mark, glue eyed,

Like a missile launching towards its target,

On a blazing mission, not for the faint hearted.

 

She’d trap you with an ishaara, a wave of hand,

Urging you to move away, in the direction fanned,

No please or thank you, just a gaze, chilly and still,

Hinting, that move you have to, and move you will.

And if you pretend, to suddenly acquire a squint, and look the other way,

Or act dumb, and not understand what she would say,

Pat comes the nudge, and the shove, and the retort,

“ Arey, adjust kar lo na !” she bellows like a fiery sport.

 

If you’d be so lucky, and be a little fat,

Well my dear, you have an upper hand in the combat,

For the predator would tend to look the other way,

And direct her effort towards the slimmer, frailer prey,

Jabbing and bulldozing the hapless commuter,

Ambushing her victim, the victorious sharpshooter.

 

What I can’t seem to discern,

Is that for all the trouble, and the heartburn,

All that is achieved, is to park half an arse,

Uncomfortably lodged in that space sparse,

Which is not pleasant, given the length and breadth of it all,

Vexing the co-passengers, and which is more, boosting self’s cholesterol.

And oddly enough, to manage to get a ‘seat,’

In this modus operandi, is often considered a ‘triumphant feat,’

No wonder then, that I am awed by this ‘lady like’ resilience,

And the metro trips give me a ‘Chak De’ experience.

Wondering frantically in my head,

Glancing at that superwoman with dread,

“Iska pair left ki taraf muda hai, yeh left mudegi,”

“Par iska face to right ki taraf hai, yeh right chalegi,”

“Lekin iske haath meri aur bade hain, ai khudaa,”

“Yeh to seedha shot legi, hai rabbaa mainu bachaa !”

 

So fear the womaniya in the metro,

She may seem feeble, with mellowness aglow,

But give her, in the train, an inch of free territory,

And you’ll see her unmasked, preparatory and predatory,

As she scorns at you with disdain,

Looking contemptuously, at the game slain,

Her thoughts screaming, “ Look sharp. Make haste.”

“ Let not, a nanometer of bench space go waste !”