(Picture courtesy: Guardian.co.uk )
"Pink on the lips of your lover,
cause Pink is the love you discover
Pink as the bing on your cherry
Pink cause you are so very
Pink it's the color of passion
Cause today it just goes with the fashion
Pink it was love at first sight
yea Pink when I turn out the light
and Pink gets me high as a kite..."
Suddenly, every one's scared of pink.
It was the best of times, it was the worst of times and judging by the ready abundance of dyed rolls of cool cotton dress material, I never ran out of pink frocks as I was growing up.
Like eggs, my mother made an amazing cornucopia with various shades and textures of pink. Polka dotted, frilled, sleeved, a light pink setting off a darker rim, a dark body fading into lighter edges, shocking pink, icicle pink, the famous 80's ABBA pink...name it. I had it.
Like a martyr I learnt to only silently obey a higher call (that of my mother) and never questioned the wisdom of investing in candyfloss clothing.
Of course those days the whole gay, transsexual and lesbian movement was unheard of and pink was still the colour of cherubic innocence, unlinked to anything more controversial than a bubblegum.
Thus it unnerves me how all of a sudden the colour pink has started to invite sniggers and meaningful looks from people around. Don't believe me? Wear a pink shirt to work tomorrow and see for yourself.
I encountered this recently when I bought an iPod. Now here's a thing about me. I am severely challenged technologically. Meaning, I need a written manual to operate anything more complicated than an electric iron. So most of the times I choose my gadgets and gizmos based on their colour (what would match the colour of the walls and sheets).
So naturally, I wanted a purple iPod. I refuse to sour my temper debating about meaningless things such as memory, Gigabytes and such. Since the store just had the standard grey and shocking pink, after much self doubt I selected the pink one.
And ever since I'm putting up with well meaning jibes from friends about finally "coming out".
I mean, what's this sudden corruption of the colour of pink? Its the sky at 5 pm on a cloudy day, its candyfloss at zoo, cheeks of a Punjabi lass after a climb uphill.
My men friends have all stashed away their pink T-shirts and formal shirts leaving their mums bewildered. Its 2009 and yet straight men are phobic about anyone doubting their sexuality. Silly, I think.
Where have all the obedient mama's boys gone? The ones who used to wear neat pink and white striped formals and a dash of curd on their forehead before going to an interview.
I am ashamed to admit, I have no qualms when it comes to wearing/eating/smearing/dabbling/rolling in pink.
My sexuality has been questioned for so long that it has steeled against normal wear and tear.
So join me in testing Pink ka dumm.