About Nude Not Naked

‘Aiyo!’ I sat up and looked at him, ever so seriously. ‘I am on the other fucking ladder!’

It was past 11 p.m. and he was to wake a few hours later to catch his flight back to work. I blinked my eyes and nestled myself on my pillow. It was the harder pillow, filled with some kind of beans that were supposed to promote wellness and sleep. They were not very good beans, I guess. I was awake for the next hour, having a little therapy session with him.

‘What’s the first ladder?’ he asked, smiling. He always smiled and depending on my mood, I either loved his smiles or get superbly annoyed. That night, I loved his smile. If men could be doe eyed, he most certainly was so.

‘The first ladder is the girlfriend ladder,’ I said. ‘Girlfriends are freaking cool, always look like a pornstar, gorgeous hair, good skin, the most beautiful clothes and the highest high heels in the whole land. Girls on this ladder are ever hopeful and exciting. Men love them because they are cool, elusive and coy.’

‘And the second ladder?’ he asked.

I went off tangent and babbled on, ignoring his question. Men love girls on the first ladder because they were dangerous. They smelled like the heavens, knew the rules of games by hard and played even harder. They knew exactly when to bat their eyes and look away. If you asked these girls to spell the word ‘fun’, they would do it with lipstick, high heels and nothing else. Oh yes, they will spell every word in capitals.

And men loved them. Men loved them because these girls always played it right. They knew when to smile and when to get coy. They threw the bait and fish would climb up their poles. You would love them too because truth be told, girlfriends are fantastic. Their sex is stronger and they ride harder.

There are thousands of reasons why men love a girl on the first ladder. The girlfriend, apart from being exciting, is also unavailable. You see, these girls have something that the girls on the second ladder don’t. They have the ability to walk away. And the more able they are to walk away, the more attractive they are.

And quite honestly, girls who are able to walk away are the happiest girls around.



*
‘And the second ladder?’ he asked again.

‘Oh the second ladder…’ There was a pause. ‘… the second ladder is the wife ladder.’ I said, shrugging my shoulders. ‘This is the ladder for the wives, who turned grumpy, naggy, unhappy and all the words that ends with ‘y’… like ‘fatty’ or... or... 'frumpy'!’

He found my comments amusing because he laughed. He laughed so hard that the baby was about to rouse. Perhaps that was what he wanted to do, as a mean to escape our night conversation. But I chose to be optimistic that night and so I thought my remarks amused him.

Women sometimes jumped from the first ladder to the second. Other times they were unaware that they had transcended onto the second ladder and were very surprised (and probably angry) when they woke up one day to discover that they had landed on the second ladder. Whether willing or unwilling, women of all ages will one day find themselves on the second ladder.

And who sits on the second ladder? Grumpy wives, nagging their husbands from sunrise to sunset remain the most popular group on the second ladder. They are angry and bitter, often disheartened and disarrayed after the love glow waned. The men they married still looked the same and more often than not, behaved exactly the same as the first day they were acquainted. Second ladder women have love battle scars. They have the fatty tummy after the baby, stretch marks to remind them of how they used to be or perhaps a 20cm long caesarian scar, like me. Men looked exactly the same and most probably smell just a foul as the first weekend you met them.

Second ladder women are burdened by the responsibilities resting on their shoulders and the years of stress often marked their faces. It is an evil cycle. The more burdens they take on, the more they nag and the more they hate themselves. They hate to nag but they have to nag because the men were not listening. Not that nagging helps anything. Nothing saves these women on the second ladder. It is a lost case. Which is why women here are often resentful and hurt. And they talk like a broken record.

No woman walks down the aisle hoping to land herself on the second ladder.



*
‘I need a broom,’ I whispered.

‘Why? We don’t have a broom,’ he said.

‘To beat the first ladder women away,’ I said as a matter of fact. I could have been reciting the periodic table of elements. ‘I am Chinese and Chinese don’t like the broom… so I guess I need a broom’

He turned to his side and gave me a hug from the back. Ah, spooning. It is such a ‘couple’ thing to do. He was gently breathing behind my neck as we lied in bed together. The curtains were not drawn so the streetlight was shining through. There was a moment of calm. He was holding me tightly as my mind went wild. First ladder. Second ladder. Me on second ladder, now in need of a broom to beat the evil young things trying to tempt my honey away. BAM! Wake up call, babe. My mind was doing the mid night marathon.

‘I know. Probably the vacuum cleaner would do the trick.’