Bathing is much like a picnic. You do it at your leisure. At least I do. On one of such days of leisure when shirking the office didn’t induce much of a guilt, I felt like I should bathe, just for the kick of the ‘ol times, and also in excitement about this new brand of soap I had got after my old discount 3-pack Camay ones had expired. I also wanted to smell today, smell like “sea minerals and blue lotus” as the packaging promised. So I set ready for my foam-trip, and made way into the bathroom.
I grab the “bathing bar” – yes, apparently it isn’t a mere “soap” but a “bathing bar”, which gives some higher purpose to my least significant minutes of the day. At least it makes good foam, so it didn’t take much time to foam-wrap myself; which is when I took a pit-stop and broke into musings on the dimensions of this “bathing bar”.
It is almost the size of half a brick, which makes it quite inconvenient. Somebody at ITC (the parent company behind this “bathing bar”) apparently got the kicks from imagining thousands of soap-ers fumbling with this thing as they start their day hazy from last night’s sleep, often having the bar slip out and fall on the floor with them floundering alongside to get the hold back on; or worse, having it pop out and into the irretrievable depths of their toilet bowl (+1 for the misery when it’s an Indian toilet). The toilet bowl situation leads to an excruciating decision between either retrieving it back (with the ugliest frown and maybe some of that foreseeable vomit), or having to do with the toilet pathway choked for 3 days… Parryware didn’t make their sanitary supplies for people shitting half bricks.
Such accidental moments blow up in probability when it comes to the body extremities, like the shoulder blades, and especially the back, where one possibly cannot get complete coverage without being deft at Yoga (Cow Face Pose, as they call it) - you see, when scrubbing along the spinal column, one ultimately faces a moment when the bar deftly rests on mere 2 fingers (and a primitive expression on the face), as it slowly glides left, then slowly right. It’s like a ballet dance going on there. Any furtive motion can, and usually does send it sliding on the bathroom floor, gathering particles that would make the bathee one oh-so-creeped-out.
Such accidental moments blow up in probability when it comes to the body extremities, like the shoulder blades, and especially the back, where one possibly cannot get complete coverage without being deft at Yoga (Cow Face Pose, as they call it) - you see, when scrubbing along the spinal column, one ultimately faces a moment when the bar deftly rests on mere 2 fingers (and a primitive expression on the face), as it slowly glides left, then slowly right. It’s like a ballet dance going on there. Any furtive motion can, and usually does send it sliding on the bathroom floor, gathering particles that would make the bathee one oh-so-creeped-out.
However, something like this would’ve been good in Sultana-Dakoo and Phoolan-Devi times, when it would’ve ensured that one could bathe without the fear of being unequipped against marauders, knowing that this half-brick could as much split a few heads if aimed properly, besides giving one that elated feeling of “sea minerals and blue lotus” at the same time.
Just think of all the rapists women could escape in their villages (or precisely the adjacent forests), where they (the women, not the rapists) apparently bathe in a green blouse and white petticoat under the flow of an idyllic water stream breaking into a thousand foaming channels by the effect of rocky outcrops, as our Bollywood research has well-established. Our generation’s Prem Chopras and Gulshan Grovers wouldn’t have come to exist had things like ‘affluence’, ‘research’ and ‘mass manufacturing’ followed a quicker timeline in India. ITC should retag this with “Sea minerals & blue lotus & anti-rape!”
Just think of all the rapists women could escape in their villages (or precisely the adjacent forests), where they (the women, not the rapists) apparently bathe in a green blouse and white petticoat under the flow of an idyllic water stream breaking into a thousand foaming channels by the effect of rocky outcrops, as our Bollywood research has well-established. Our generation’s Prem Chopras and Gulshan Grovers wouldn’t have come to exist had things like ‘affluence’, ‘research’ and ‘mass manufacturing’ followed a quicker timeline in India. ITC should retag this with “Sea minerals & blue lotus & anti-rape!”
I would also expect girls using this thing on that Bollywood pervert Emrash Half-me, whether in their moment of corrupt intimacy or outside of it.
Forcing myself away from the aforementioned causal chain, I then mediated on the reason why the small and convenient form factor of soap would be messed with. Foam was entering my eyes by now, but I stayed focused on the conundrum at hand… I could remember seeing a creepy Deepika Padukone dancing in the soap ads for this Fiama Di Willis brand (any girl coveting a soap could only be creepy). Deepika. Female. Small hands. Small soap, logically. But this soap was huge. Why huge? Would Deepika even be able to pose with it, holding it much like a mason?
Hmmmmm, [long pause, brain splashes] then is it meant for men? There, the riddle had been solved. Shower streams hit my head, and also washed that foam in my eye away, as I turned about to examine the soap packaging. Right enough, there it was, “men”, printed in bright orange so that no man could miss that association. Because Deepika had made this brand a ladies’ only at its launch, it had to explicitly give itself a male profile to induce that perceptional shift.
“Let’s make it big, no, huge”
“Oo, let’s put a shiny orange sticker that says ‘men’”
“Oooo, let’s make that font sans-serif, men like stalky fonts”
"Should we make references to the phallus?"
"No, let that be understood. Understated - That's my style."
“Let’s make it big, no, huge”
“Oo, let’s put a shiny orange sticker that says ‘men’”
“Oooo, let’s make that font sans-serif, men like stalky fonts”
"Should we make references to the phallus?"
"No, let that be understood. Understated - That's my style."
And there you have it. Fiama Di Willis Men bathing bar with sea minerals and blue lotus and anti-rape properties with a cumbersome size coz you have a dick.
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