Sunday, May 27, 2018 | Last Update : 07:06 AM IST
First things first, let’s get the obvious out of the way: emotions.
There are few reasons for the male of any species to exist. If Mother Nature has her way as she always does, very soon we will be nothing more than fertiliser, confined to test tubes. And yet, the very construct of females will require them to have us around, not just in some anhydrous form but in the live albeit clumsy, moving and physically functioning form. At least, that’s how I live from day to day, believing that I am needed around the house, that my pup and my lady both, at some point, wouldn’t be able to function in case of my long-term absence.
First things first, let’s get the obvious out of the way: emotions. Sure they would miss me if I were to suddenly cease to exist but that void, I am sure, would eventually be filled in. Either by a hobby or by someone. They would find a way to cope and move along. Sad as it may be and utterly morbid of me to discuss it here, emotions won’t be the reason for my indispensability. Here are few reasons why they will need me.
If the toilet drain gets blocked! Both ladies at home shed hair at a rate that makes a bald man like me extremely jealous. It’s almost flagrant, to lose so much of a precious commodity when I have so little of it. Compare it to tossing good money down a well or into a fountain when people starving and unclothed stand surrounding you. They lose hair (without showing any sign of approaching baldness whatsoever) and it all collects in the trap. You know it’s getting thicker when the shower starts to look flooded. From the time I clean it, I reckon it’s a ten day cycle before I have to revisit it. In all this time, neither canine nor canny lass will ever involve themselves in any messy affair that can require them to remove this ball of fuzz. I imagine that if I were to be away for anything longer than three weeks, they might just drown in the shower! Yes, in the shower. My presence, in this case, is a life-preserver.
Another reason I am needed around the house is thanks to the existence of the common house lizard. Geckos may look unsightly (and boy can they make a shrill shrieking sound) but they serve a bigger purpose than merely eat insects and other airbornes. They are absolutely repulsive to the female of our species. (All those insulting gender-tests for weight-lifters, just gauge their reaction to creepy-crawlies and you will know for sure, minus all that malarkey). I am pretty sure that were a lizard to enter the house when I am away I would either come back to a new location or else hear on national news about the blazing fire in a residential area which took out precisely one tiny reptilian critter. Either ways, me being around makes me feel not only manly but also useful. Trouble is, I have a tough time imagining killing anything. Armed with a broom, all I really do is converse with the gecko, urging it to leave our premises without any unnecessary altercations. (Eventually what with the incessant shouting from all directions, these wise proponents of the flora of our planet leave, the option being to stick around and die of old age or sheer boredom.).
And then there is the multitude of smaller tasks, from prying open jars to picking up dog poo, from running errands to, and this is most important, being the perfect fall-guy for just about anything that can go wrong. From the US presidential elections to a leaky faucet, a squeaky curtain rail, a dirty tabletop counter, something in the fridge that was rotten two years ago to world hunger, just blame the man. Given my near-absent ability to recall anything older than five minutes ago, I meekly submit to the allegations and always apologise.
So, Darwin may still have one lesson left to learn, the one that explains the existence of certain genus when all prevailing and unfolding logic stands at crossways to it. For what it’s worth, am not complaining; cleaning up doggy doodoo regularly has a way of relegating any existential crises you may be momentarily contemplating.
The writer is a lover of wine, song and everything fine