Why should we (Indian women) be hung on gore lals, those direct descendants of the gods themselves? Why shouldn't we? It's elementary, dear fellows. It's not the skin really. It's those magnificent, perfectly proportioned bodies -- if you watch MTV grind you'll know what I mean. Actually, I'm not talking about bulging biceps and washboard tummies. I'm talking about proportion, symmetry. Shoulders to waist to butt and below. Look at the average Indian man. Take Amitabh Bachchan, for example, a symbol of Indian manhood at one time -- his legs start from his chest (something about AB that has always bothered me).

With those clean-cut aquiline Aryan features -- some might call them cold -- and streamlined bodies, the white gods have a genetic advantage, a headstart, over our homegrown products. But why can't Indian men be more conscious about their physical appearance, improve upon what they have? Lift some weight, instead of throwing it around, do some hard push-ups and put in that bulging belly. And finally, don't eat mamma's ghee-soaked aloo-parathas for breakfast (a metaphor for don't be mamma's boys -- can you see Tom Cruise flaring his nostrils and saying `Ma'?). The add-on's are there -- they don't consider helping the wife in the kitchen a threat to their manhood, and they are intense.

Illustration by Amitabh

Of course, I, myself, don't care either way, as long as my man's world revolves around me and I'm the centre of his existence. And hey, all you Indian guys out there, if it makes you feel any better (or worse), the bottomline, when it comes to men, is something that cuts across all colour and size barriers: all men, basically, are the same (ask any woman). My favourite quote these days, emailed by a friend, sums it up quite eloquently: Men are a lot like computers. 1)They have a lot of data, but are still clueless. 2) They are supposed to help you solve problems, but half the time they ARE the problem. 3) In order to get their attention, they have to be turned on. 4) Big power surges knock them out for the rest of the night and 5) As soon as you commit to one you realise that if you had waited a little longer, you could have obtained a better model!

Bonita Baruah is with The Times of India

My mind, like I said, is made up, most certainly. The next time I meet a white man (how long these intervals are), I am going to suave, urbane (discreetly flashing my brilliant intellect) and be in general vastly superior and bollocks to the fact I am smaller, darkskinned, dullblackeyehaired and he is big, fair (oh how white her skin is), blueeyed, goldenhaired and who comes from a country I might give my right hand (and right foot, if it comes to that) to get into.

Illustration by Amitabh

If you think it through though, it does not really matter. After all, I am proud to be an Indian (would have been prouder as a yank). Don't I come from a hallowed and ancient land, a land that has given the world the Buddha (and endless poverty and mindless superstition)?

Yeah, that's the right stuff (you've said it). Its now time enough to show the white primitives their proper place (words are sometimes the ultimate seduction, don't you agree?) in the universal scheme of things.

And anyway, what kind of question is are Indian fixated on whites? What is one expected to say to that (what's the stock response, dammit)? Of course, they aren't (of course they are). What difference does it make that they are white (would you like to make rompy with a memsahib, boy?)?

Need I say more (say no more)? Need I emphasize that I am much above all these scurrilous suggestions (above is below; below, above)? I have better things to do you know (like dreaming what fun I would have had as a teenager in the American sixties).

Like I said in the very beginning (you didn't notice, did you?), my mind is made up. Next time I meet a white man (oh, let it be a woman), I will not go soggy in the knees, I will not (wanna wager?). I will not let any damn whiteness come between me and my dignity (where the head is held high). Fixated on whites, did you say? Isn't that a laugh (ha ha)?

Soumya Sarkar shirks work at The Financial Express.

Send us your BuZZ