The Strap On Her Shoulder

“Psst! I can see it”, he said.

“What can you see?” she asked in similar hushed tone.

Then started some sort of Kathak (Indian classical dance) with his eyes. She assumed he wanted to point at something. It clicked after some attempts that her bra strap was showing and it was making him uncomfortable.

“I can see the strap”, he said meekly.

“You’d rather I not wear any then? Don’t wear it, won’t see it, right? Grow up please” she said irritated by her friend.

We are talking about sending man to mars, fighting cancer and AIDS, talking about concepts like feminism and equal rights; yet we are still threatened by the mere sight of a strap on her shoulder. It is still a taboo topic: The Bras. It can easily be the title to a horror movie.

Isn’t the embarrassment of buying it; dreading to wear the torturing device all day, everyday; enough that we have to tolerate the tantrums of the opposite sex over the mere sighting of the bra?

                                                                                                                                                           

Only if Bras could talk! What would they say? We could hear them talking things like “Babe are you delusional? You know I am going to pinch you.” “Mind if I dig a little more in your chest?” “Oh honey! The red bruise marks on your shoulders are just to remind you of me!”

Our Frenemy, can’t live with them; can’t live without them! They dig, they pinch and they bruise. Imagine a belt of thorns tied around your chest for almost 16 hours of the day. But none can do without them. So, once home it is bound to come open. The jail is broken!!

                                                                                                                                                           

Oh and the embarrassment of bra shopping! The instant rush of blood to your cheeks when the salesman simply by looking at you can judge your size. And to our amusement it will be spot on more than we’d like to accept.

Then there are different types, different materials, different designs and colors of bras that are available in the market. But somehow even if you want to buy it just to make yourself happy the “shop wala uncle” will give you judging stares. And out of shame you will once again buy the same old sports bra when in reality your heart is aching to get the bright red push-up bra. OH COME ON; like I can’t treat myself to a good looking luxurious bra just for myself. It has to be for the boyfriend or the husband who couldn’t care less for it! (This would be the point where I’d be rolling my eyes)

                                                                                                                                                          

I know for writing this piece I’d be getting lots of “OMG” what did you write this for. It’s supposed to be a CIA level secret that even CIA can’t know of. All the aunties and relatives will burn their cheeks red and give me glares wishing the glares can reduce me to ashes for writing about the Taboo Topic. And the first one to do so would be my mommy dearest!

But lo-behold, everybody in this world know what bras are. Half of them go through the pain of wearing them and the other half secretively makes fun of them or unwilling cash out for them. So I am not sorry for writing about it! Sorry 😉