Pink is not for Boys

I was at this mall the other day with one of my companions, looking for a birthday present for my dad. She was supposed to do the extraction but some people simply can’t resist the temptation offered by open doors, so there I was – stuck in the midst of an annoying exercise wherein people in an attempt to pursue the means forget that there is something at all called the end. After arguing with the betrayer of my intentions umpteen times that L’Oreal was the same brand as Garnier, and never managing to bring her round to my side, I threw up my hands and started looking for something that might interest me, in the hope that sooner or later she’d realise our sole purpose of being in the blasted mall. Suddenly, from behind the elevator area I saw a young mother coming towards us, dribbling with a pram in one hand and a cell phone in the other. Believe me, the little one in the pram was one terrified babe. Its eyes fidgeted in all possible directions, wondering what the trouble with the lady was. And the lady in a quick movement of agitation let go of the pram and it came to rest against my abdomen. What a painful relief from boredom! I cursed the lady telepathically and the child seemed to nod approvingly. Its mother still failed to realise that she had lost the baby and continued to subdue the father on the phone (I guessed from her tone.) I caressed the child’s forehead and suddenly it burst into a wail. Damn! People around me stared at me as if I had committed a crime. I managed, “I thought we were friends” when actually I had meant “I thought we had a common enemy”. This woke up my company from her obnoxious state and she held the child in her arms, staring into my sheepish eyes with the ruthless eyes of a tigress. Thankfully the child stopped howling and its mother came to fetch the pram. I exhaled a sigh of relief as the feeling of silent vindication crept in. “The child was cute”, she said. “I wonder if it was a boy or a girl”, I blurted out. “Duh, It was a girl”, was her reply. “HOW?”, I asked. It’s tough getting used to the supernatural powers girls exhibit sometimes when guys fail to be observant enough. Besides, my words betray my thoughts when I am perplexed, so I said, “You’ve got x-ray vision and you never told me? And I thought we knew each other.” Not appreciating the humour (girls seldom do It. It requires a non negative IQ. Kidding.), she burst out, “Are you insane? You actually believe that crap you just said? Didn’t you see the baby’s blanket was pink?” “Whoa, Whoa, Whoa”, I repeated, “I’m not sure, No and Yes I saw the pink blanket. But what has it got to do with whether the baby was a he or a she?”

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You must’ve grasped the essence of what transpired later. I asked her questions to unearth the mystery but she was not a genius after all (Kidding). So I had to seek the answers myself, and I found that surely there exists such a belief- more among women than in men- though none of the people I asked could convince me by their powers of eloquence or clarity of thought.

So the colour pink is not for boys after all. I sought some historical evidence and I’ll tell you what I found:

Once upon a time, the colour for boys was pink. Some argued that pink was a close relative of red, which was seen as a fiery, manly colour. Others traced the association of blue with girls to the frequent depiction of the Virgin Mary in blue. Pink being a more decided and stronger colour was more suitable for the boy, while blue, which is more delicate and dainty, was prettier for the girl. Now during World War II, the Nazis made the homosexuals in their prison camps wear pink triangular badges as means of identifying them. Why they chose to profane (I chose this word specifically) the pink colour is something no one knows, but this is how pink came to mean a mark of the feminine. What the heck?

So, assigning colour to gender is a 20th century trait. On my part I don’t see any reason why guys shouldn’t sport pink- though I’d prefer darker shades myself. I'm no human rights activist but only an observer. And I ask, why associate colour with gender at all? I can understand girls vouching for this myth- they get to wear pink and this is one field guys can’t compete with them in. To even things out, maybe girls shouldn’t wear blue (which is another absurd remark but let’s just say it for the sake of argument) but it doesn’t happen that way. I’ve seen dozens of instances of girls mentioning on the internet that they get turned off by men in pink (you don’t have to believe me- just browse through the profiles of girls on Orkut). Well I’ve seen guys in pink – in fact one of my batch mates who’s got quite an impressive built goes to gym each evening in the same pink t-shirt – and I don’t find them feminine or homosexual. If the thing is just that guys don’t look good in pink, then I’d better not comment on the girls who wear shiny black jackets made of raxine along with a grey pair of jeans. Anyways I’m not someone who should comment on who looks good in what, but seriously people, we should not let such baseless assumptions hinder us from doing what we like doing. Pink is the colour!!