The other day a man was telling me about the number of affairs he’d had after marriage, and as he winked at me, I asked, “How would you handle it if your wife had an affair?”
I saw his expression change and thought of a certain shopping mall in Delhi, which decided to install kissing female mannequins inside their store, with a placard around their necks saying, ‘Kiss me please.’ Men, both young and not so young, accompanied by wives and girlfriends visited the store to enter a contest to see how good a kisser they were. A kisso-meter was installed that was able to gauge the intensity of the kiss, and as the kissers kissed, they were lustily cheered by their women.
As I looked at those pictures of pot-bellied men kissing the pretty plastic model with their loyal women cheering them on, a mischievous thought came to my mind: I wondered what the reaction would be if a male mannequin had been installed for women to kiss.
Now imagine the scene when the wife comes home after winning the best kisser prize. “Goodnight dear,” she tells her husband after having showed him the prize. “Goodnight,” he says grumpily, “so no goodnight kiss for me anymore huh? Now that you’ve kissed another man, I’m not good enough huh?” “Of course you’re good enough,” says his wife, giving him an affectionate peck on the forehead. The husband looks at her angrily. “Did you kiss him on the forehead too?” “Kiss who? “The man in the shop?” “Oh, the mannequin? No silly, I had to kiss it on the mouth. That’s what the rules said.”
“You kissed his lips! Were they better than mine? They must have been since you won the contest! How come I’ve never felt such passion?” “Dearest it was only a contest,” says the wife, now a little worried. “Did you put your arm round him?” asks the husband, standing up and glaring. “Well I had to,” says the wife hesitatingly, “that was the only way I could get a hold, since the plastic fellow couldn’t put an arm around me!” “Enough!” shouts the husband, “you don’t have to rub it in. Did anybody see you kissing him? Was there a crowd? Did our neighbours see you? What if my office people saw both of you? What will they say when they meet me tomorrow? That you were seen kissing another man?”
“Not a man, a mannequin!” says his wife simply. “Man, mannequin or monkey!” shouts the distraught husband. “What does it matter? I always knew what kind of a woman you were: That given the smallest chance you would be smooching around. You got the first prize! How much practice have you had before? I’m going to call your parents tomorrow! I’m calling my lawyer! Let him draw the divorce papers, I don’t need no loose woman in this house..!” But when the man kissed the mannequin it was quite different..!
