Having studied in a missionary school, Moral Science was a subject that was taken up very seriously by my school teachers, so much that every Wednesday, we had a class dedicated to the subject, complete with text books with chapters eulogising the importance of having a conscience. I must say they did a good job, these texts and I must at this point, humbly admit that I even got a prize for highest marks in Moral Science...now that's an original score eh! I mean, you can be a topper in school and all that, but being recognized as having a superlative morally charged conscience and getting felicitated for it on your annual prize distribution day is a first. Not many can boast of that honour I bet. They could have paid me decent moolah as prize money though, I mean 50 bucks even 10 years ago is an affront to errr...the same consience they were felicitating! Was my conscience worth a mere 50 bucks?!! Ah well, but I am digressing here. The point I am trying to drive home is that I managed to come out of school with a pretty good idea of what is right and wrong, to do and not to do, the difference between derogatory and obligatory and so on...The moral grinding continued into college as well thanks to Psychology which made me acutely aware that my sense of propriety stemmed from this tiny little part of my brain called superego. Little did I know that one day, this superego is going to start getting mischievous and torture the indulgent part of me, by playing the grand old aunt who makes sure whatever spells fun is banned from ever happening. Take the case of shopping for example!
Now every girl worth her two pennies knows how integral an activity shopping can be for the ahem...financial exercise of the pocket. I swear I didn't write that. It is this irritating superego. I am telling you, it is totally controlling my mind and fingers even as I write this. But I will try and have my say anyway. So when it comes to shopping, you will hardly find a woman who says no to it simply because well, that is how it is. Women love to shop just like men like...sports, you know! It's a built in mechanism, a primary instinct, a materialistic attitude no doubt but hey, women don't pretend to not like it. At least they are honest to admit to the fact that they can never really have enough bags, clothes, shoes, clutches, jewellery, cosmetics...etc etc. And considering most urban women come equipped with purchasing power (read their own credit cards), they don't need an excuse or even their husband/boyfriend's permission to go splurge on themselves! So when in doubt or depression- SHOP. Simple mantra right? And you men thought women were hard to figure out. However, that's where I come in. I, my dear ladies who are reading this and the rare men who are (you are?? really? wow!) am about to make a confession I know is not going to go down very well but anyway, here goes- I do NOT like shopping.
Right, right, before I hear whining protests and remonstrations as to how I could betray the fairer sex like this and turn traitor as well as diminish my birthright of spending my hard earned money or someone else's for that matter, let me elaborate a bit. Please don't get me wrong. I love going out to malls, bazaars, flea markets...the works. Any place displaying their fancy merchandise- be it traditional handlooms, handicrafts, imported brands, funky knick knacks, artificial and imitation stuff, rare artefacts or antiques, I am game for anything. I love window shopping! Whenever I do that, I am often tempted to actually immediately purchase something that attracts my roving eye. But that's where the trouble begins because after the initial high of possessing something my covetous self has bought, I end up terribly under-utilising it, leading to the above mentioned superego turning overactive on me. It brings me to a point where I have to avert those very eyes from that article that I had fallen in love with at first sight and once so desired. So much so that I end up hanging my head in shame and feel like a loser instead of a proud owner. The guilt soaked mind does a dovetail and needles me to realise my folly and never, ever give in to the temptations of the moment again. So I have understood after numerous such major mistakes in life that I have to pay a high price both literally and figuratively for all my various shopping escapades and have mentally vowed never to succumb to the consumerist calling of my greedy mind.
Ya, so thanks dear superego, you helped me become what I am today. So what if all my girl friends and female relations think I am close to abnormal for responding in the negative everytime they bring up shopping. After all, it's all about standing up to what you believe in or rather in this case don't and I solemnly don't believe in being a spendthrift and making my life miserable two months down the line.
So if you ever pass by your neighbourhood mall/shopping plaza/arcade or local exhibition, that's not me with the big overfilled bags and the shopping cart- that cannot have been me, I promise you that. Hell! Even on my big shopping day i.e the phenomenal bridal trousseau shopping day, I was more prone to buying household utility items like a chakla to roll chapatis on rather than check out the latest Kanjeevarams just so that I could justify my shopping expedition as being worth it. And yes, you are right, that wonderful wedding saree is successfully working its way to giving me the guilt pangs thanks to its non-functionality these days. I am hopeless, I know. At least there is someone who doesn't mind and in fact, likes it this way- my dear husband who feels safe keeping his wallet around me, knowing that damn superego isn't letting me flick some of the green in it.
Moral of the story: Shop till you drop, and when you do, don't ever hesitate to buy something you think would look great on me. No fur coat though, darlings...you don't know how that will make my conscience tick. Sigh!
Now every girl worth her two pennies knows how integral an activity shopping can be for the ahem...financial exercise of the pocket. I swear I didn't write that. It is this irritating superego. I am telling you, it is totally controlling my mind and fingers even as I write this. But I will try and have my say anyway. So when it comes to shopping, you will hardly find a woman who says no to it simply because well, that is how it is. Women love to shop just like men like...sports, you know! It's a built in mechanism, a primary instinct, a materialistic attitude no doubt but hey, women don't pretend to not like it. At least they are honest to admit to the fact that they can never really have enough bags, clothes, shoes, clutches, jewellery, cosmetics...etc etc. And considering most urban women come equipped with purchasing power (read their own credit cards), they don't need an excuse or even their husband/boyfriend's permission to go splurge on themselves! So when in doubt or depression- SHOP. Simple mantra right? And you men thought women were hard to figure out. However, that's where I come in. I, my dear ladies who are reading this and the rare men who are (you are?? really? wow!) am about to make a confession I know is not going to go down very well but anyway, here goes- I do NOT like shopping.
Right, right, before I hear whining protests and remonstrations as to how I could betray the fairer sex like this and turn traitor as well as diminish my birthright of spending my hard earned money or someone else's for that matter, let me elaborate a bit. Please don't get me wrong. I love going out to malls, bazaars, flea markets...the works. Any place displaying their fancy merchandise- be it traditional handlooms, handicrafts, imported brands, funky knick knacks, artificial and imitation stuff, rare artefacts or antiques, I am game for anything. I love window shopping! Whenever I do that, I am often tempted to actually immediately purchase something that attracts my roving eye. But that's where the trouble begins because after the initial high of possessing something my covetous self has bought, I end up terribly under-utilising it, leading to the above mentioned superego turning overactive on me. It brings me to a point where I have to avert those very eyes from that article that I had fallen in love with at first sight and once so desired. So much so that I end up hanging my head in shame and feel like a loser instead of a proud owner. The guilt soaked mind does a dovetail and needles me to realise my folly and never, ever give in to the temptations of the moment again. So I have understood after numerous such major mistakes in life that I have to pay a high price both literally and figuratively for all my various shopping escapades and have mentally vowed never to succumb to the consumerist calling of my greedy mind.
So if you ever pass by your neighbourhood mall/shopping plaza/arcade or local exhibition, that's not me with the big overfilled bags and the shopping cart- that cannot have been me, I promise you that. Hell! Even on my big shopping day i.e the phenomenal bridal trousseau shopping day, I was more prone to buying household utility items like a chakla to roll chapatis on rather than check out the latest Kanjeevarams just so that I could justify my shopping expedition as being worth it. And yes, you are right, that wonderful wedding saree is successfully working its way to giving me the guilt pangs thanks to its non-functionality these days. I am hopeless, I know. At least there is someone who doesn't mind and in fact, likes it this way- my dear husband who feels safe keeping his wallet around me, knowing that damn superego isn't letting me flick some of the green in it.
Moral of the story: Shop till you drop, and when you do, don't ever hesitate to buy something you think would look great on me. No fur coat though, darlings...you don't know how that will make my conscience tick. Sigh!
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