‘Being Ditched’

fr-1980s

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Being ditched, and ditching, are common experiences for all of us. During the course of each day, we process many people through our ditching filters as we get processed by theirs. Most bring decisive results at first sight or few words at best, and the top ditching ground remains to be the class.

I have been ditched for class, race, accent, un-brandnamed clothing, City of Surrey, Pakistan, godlessness, and of course for many aspects of more personal nature. Most times i know the exact cause of ditching or being ditched, sometimes i don’t. To me, in non-abusive interactions, ditching is a right that cannot be held against the ditching party, but let me tell you, the last time i got ditched was too much: imagine being ditched by a woman friend for refusing to accept her fake plastic penis?

Now, that i have your full attention, allow me to discuss another side of ditching. When we can’t find the heart to ditch someone, we try to induce it. There’s this sweet person i know for over three decades, she’s dear to me like a younger sister but what began happening when she moved closer was that she would take hours each day either over phone or in person to deliver a monologue that went somewhat like this: ‘early morning, i fell from the balcony on concrete floor’, description of calamity for 30 minutes including all the steps she or anyone in her family had taken to save her, and then ‘I thought I’ll never breathe again BUT my God saved me’; and, she would go on and on citing tens of daily miracles from being able to make tasty biryani to finding matching shoes to getting kids to school on time, and, it was all being done- against all odds- by her God. Then toward the end, the monologue would change themes, and she would share her sadness at not having an intimate partner to enjoy sexual pleasures with. One day at the end of the monologue when she stopped and looked at me for answers, i said, ‘Since God is doing everything for you why not ask him to do this too?’ Her eyes went out of focus, and then she got up and left. Needless to say it was, and continues to be, a successful ditch-inducing strategy.

Some encounters occur in less defined or more non-traditional territories, the ditchings that ensue are not as clear or expected, and they create different ripples than the usual ones; Sometimes even pleasant. Yes, it is about the fake penis. A dear friend visited after a few years, and over wine, offered her fake plastic penis to me. It was an unexpected but generous thought, and as a single het woman i did appreciate it but appreciation did not make me accept the unusual gift because i don’t like to use fake things, penis or not. But my friend had pity in her eyes at all the other-dimension fun i was missing, and i knew it had happened; i had been ditched.

Even though it isn’t recommended by any decent human, still i am tempted to reach across the traditional after-ditch boundaries to ask my friend this one vital question:
‘What color was it?’
And then:
‘Circumcised or no?’

To welcome into this world my second novel, The Adventures of SahebaN: Biography of a Relentless Warrior (Libros Libertad, Nov 2016), stories of a heroic woman who was forever curious about a similar object called ‘Pee-nuts’.

Fauzia Rafique
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