‘I know nothing about all that,’ said Roopa, beside herself, ‘all I crave for is a soul mate.’
‘Who doesn’t despair for one,’ said Tara affectionately, ‘but there’s no way of getting to know the man before giving in to him. And that means starting an affair, with all the associated risks, isn’t it?’
‘Isn’t it the bane of being a woman then?’ sighed Roopa.
‘Can you alter the fact, having been born,’ said Tara spiritedly. ‘As you can’t do that anyway, it’s sensible to accept the handicap to start with. Man loves his time with woman more than her as a person. For all we know, females of the animal world are worse off for that. While the male would walk away, having had his fill, the female waits haplessly for the next mate for a like treatment. That’s about the qualms of the male of the species. And it’s the lot of the females to satiate the male, never mind her self-gratification.’
‘Yet, all is not lost for us women,’ continued Tara after having some water. ‘Since cultures tend to underscore the male ego with the marker of virility, our grumbling on that score is sure to pull him down. Try dropping a hint or two that he’s found wanting, and he’s bound to submit to you in shame.’
‘That’s Tara’s thesis of henpeckedness,’ said Roopa laughing.
‘It’s no laughing matter though,’ said Tara assuming a serious tone. ‘Be it her man or her paramour, woman either remains vulnerable to him, to her hurt, or enslaves him, to her benefit. And it’s for you to choose.’
‘And end up being empty either way,’ said Roopa sighing.
‘Maybe,’ said Tara, ‘but still it is thrilling exploiting the exploiter.’
‘Is there no mid-course for woman,’ said Roopa, ‘to go about her life without suffering from qualms?’
‘It’s the feature of nature that it didn’t lay any mid-path on the earth,’ said Tara to a baffled Roopa. ‘While on the subject, it pays to know the proclivities of the sexes. Never count out a man as aged, since man never turns weary of woman’s charms. It’s stupid of woman not to realize, past her prime, she’s no game for any man. Woman has a limited time for men to dote upon, and what a time they give us women in our time! If a woman chooses to remain a marital frog in her dried up well, she would wither away anyway. Even if a woman ventures out of her cold nuptial bed for warming up in her paramour’s nest, still she would gain nothing in the end. Well, having had his fill, it’s only time before her favored man leaves her in the lurch. So it pays for a woman to barter her favors.’