Women Have It All, Man

By Sakhi Dayanand Gundeti

"Ten years ago if someone told me to carry an umbrella in December, I'd have punched him in the face," Mandar muttered, opening his umbrella as he stepped out of the self-driving cab into the pattering rain.

"Thank you!" The cab greeted with a female voice and blinked its headlights at Mandar and his friends, Arnav and Nitin.

Mandar snapped back at the cab, repeating its words.

Arnav and Nitin exchanged glances. Throughout their trip to the bar, Mandar grumbled about the talking street lights, Arnav's neon blue t-shirt, and Nitin's transparent smart glasses.

"Dude, have a drink and you'll be fine." Arnav patted Mandar's shoulder.

"That's what we're here for, aren't we?" Mandar rubbed his short hair and stepped inside the bar.

The tall and gaunt Nitin mouthed at Arnav, "Don't say anything now."

The bar had mild yellow lights shining through alternate square tiles on its ceiling and floor and jazz music playing through its speakers. It buzzed with the murmurs of its customers who occupied all the tables. So the trio climbed a metal circular staircase and settled at a table on the upper floor. The bar was one of few places to hang incandescent bulb lamps over their tables. They had modernized though; they had no waiters like most restaurants and bars. On the table screen, a menu popped up. Nitin tapped on it to order their usual drinks.

***

Six hours ago, at the Bright Sun International School, the principal had called a meeting to plan the 'Annual Cultural Day 2035'. In the bright, air-conditioned conference room, all the teachers sat around an oval wooden table.

The principal said, "Good morning everyone. As you all know, we need to organise the Annual Cultural Day in the upcoming days. I would like your comments and suggestions to make this event our best ever."

He asked the teachers to go through the points shared on the table screens. He and Meera, the supervisor, had discussed them earlier that morning.

A play about climate change

A dance explaining the gender spectrum, folk dance, instrumental music show by the music club(with real instruments, not apps)

Prize distribution, Chief guest will be Raghav Mistry.

The last bullet point brought a grin on Mandar's face. He had never missed watching Raghav Mistry's movies. His favourite actor was coming to his school. Mandar thanked God in his mind.

The teachers poured in their ideas, discussed them for half an hour and finalized the events. It was time to decide the host.

"Pragati, why don't you host this time? You've never hosted any ceremony before." The principal faced the wide-eyed English teacher sitting next to him.

"Sir, I have no trouble talking to a class of ten students but I don't know if I can face a large audience." Pragati laughed nervously.

Mandar raised his hand, "Sir I'd like to--"

"That's precisely why you should host. It might help you overcome your fear." Meera shook a stylus pen at Pragati.

"I agree with you and will surely consider it." Pragati nodded. "But Mandar was saying something, what were you saying?" She faced him.

Mandar nodded at her and turned towards the principal, "Sir, if Pragati is uncomfortable, I'd like to host. I have some experience of hosting events at my college and my previous school. I won't let you down."

"That's great, but we want to change things you see." The principal shifted in his chair, his typical way of pausing before saying something important. "Most of our teachers, especially women, aren't confident in front of large audiences and we want to change that. We believe in improving our teachers' skills. You can host next time, hmm?"

Mandar pursed his thin lips and nodded slowly. How often does your favourite actor come to your workplace for an event? He fancied sharing the stage with Raghav Mistry and showering words of praise on him. He would tell everyone about it and then cherish those memories forever. Mandar couldn't do that now; he had to settle down to helping students backstage with other teachers.

As the meeting adjourned, he stormed out of the conference room with a flushed face.

***

"I was this close to hosting the ceremony. This close to sharing the stage with Raghav!" Mandar showed his thumb and index finger as if holding an invisible eraser between them. "This is sexism, man. It's not done." He gulped down a vodka shot.

"Why do you bother so much? They'll let you host next time. What's the big deal?" Arnav sipped his beer.

"Nah!" Mandar shook his thick finger and spoke emphasizing on each word. "They'll give the same excuse and I'll have no option but to nod."

"But the principal has a point. He wants to develop his staff's skills. What's wrong with that?" Nitin took off his smart glasses and rubbed his eyes, "The teachers deserve that encouragement, man. Just let it go." He tossed a fried peanut in his mouth.

With bloodshot eyes, Mandar stared at the glint of the shot glass and said, "Women have it all, man. Life would've been easier had I been one of them, I'd not have missed this opportunity." He sighed and poured some more vodka in the glass, "I'm now realizing the upper hand women have in our society. Reservations in colleges, workspaces and buses, exclusive scholarships, the liberty to cry without being shamed, negligible physical effort - there are men to deal with heavy stuff, right?" Mandar smirked, "I should've been born a woman. There hasn't been a better time to be one." He ended his speech by draining the shot glass down his throat and thumping it on the table.

"Oh, is it?" Arnav rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his thick beard.

"What's with the sarcasm?"

"You think your life would've been easier as a woman?"

Mandar frowned and said, "Why do you think otherwise? Were you a woman in your last life?"

"No, I just happen to have a wife."

"Guys chill," Nitin showed his palms to his friends and put on his glasses. "I have an idea. One of my colleagues' friends owns a service that provides virtual reality experiences for various causes. One of their services is an 'alternate life' experience wherein you can imagine how your life would've turned out be had you been born with a different sex. People usually gift this service to each other for fun." A wide smile grew on his face. "If Mandar tries it out, we'll know who's right. I'll pay for it, what say? There's no harm in trying out."

"Let's do it." Arnav rubbed his palms together.

Mandar shrugged his eyebrows, "You don't have better uses for your money, do you?"

"Ay, don't be grumpy now. Consider it your birthday gift, okay?" Nitin pat Mandar's shoulder.

"I'll search for their nearest branch. The company's name was Nara, Naphtha, wait... I think it was Netra. Let's see." Nitin tapped the side of his glasses to activate voice command.

"Netra VR near me." He told the glasses.

A search result appeared in front of his eyes. "It's five minutes away from your home near the virtual sports complex. They are open on Sundays. Great!"

While Nitin booked his appointment, Mandar rested his wide forehead on his palm and stared at his overly enthusiastic friend.

***

Mandar stood staring at the deep blue letters of the 'Netra VR' signboard outside their office. The glass door, sensing his presence, slided open. Mandar stepped back and waited for it to close. "Whatever." He sighed and stepped ahead again.

At the reception desk, a bespectacled woman in a collared black t-shirt welcomed Mandar.

"Good afternoon! Do you have an appointment?" She skimmed through an appointment list on her desk screen.

"Yes. Mandar Deshmukh." Mandar showed his ID and sat across from her in a blue swivel chair.

"First, I'll brief you about what exactly we do here at Netra. Then we can choose a plan for you, okay?" The woman flipped the table screen by pushing a touch button on its edge.

"So what forms the basis for all our services is our VR experience. Our most popular service is the 'Alternate Life' service where you step into a virtual reality with a different gender than you currently identify with. That's the one you'll be going through today."

On the table screen was a logo of the company - a black silhouette of an eye with a bright blue eyeball. Below it a man lay on a chair, the kind often found in dental clinics, with a pair of VR goggles covering his eyes. Mandar pictured himself there.

"Using our proprietary memory access technology, we build a virtual world that's uploaded into the goggles." The woman pointed at the picture. "Your VR experience will begin from the age of 5 as it is currently difficult to tap into memories before that age. The VR will run till it reaches your age, that is 33. As per your plan choice, you'll witness random moments from every age for 15 minutes. Based on our comprehensive gender studies considering the socio-economic, political and biological factors that affect an individual's lifetime and predicting how the people in their lives would have behaved, we predict how your life could've turned out be with a different gender."

Mandar nodded and pretended to understand.

For your service today, we have three plans as per the time scale jumps of 2 years, 5 years and 10 years. For example if you choose the 5 year plan, you'll witness the VR for ages 5, 10, 15 and so on up to your age. The 10 year plan is the shortest and the 2 year one the longest. These are the rates for the same."

Mandar checked out the rates displayed on the screen. The 2 year plan was the most expensive and the 10 year one the cheapest. He considered buying the 10 year plan but then thought otherwise. Nitin wanted him to go through this and he was paying, too. So be it.

"I'll go for the 2 year plan." He pointed at the screen.

"Great!" The woman pulled out a tablet from under her desk, typed something on it and said,

"Before we get started, I need you to sign a document." She held out the tablet to Mandar.

It was a disclaimer.

'Our services do not provide accurate predictions in the virtual realities. They are based on algorithms and are subject to imperfections. Kindly remember the same and do not take the VR results too seriously. We do not share your data with companies or with governments. Your privacy is our utmost priority.'

Mandar signed the document with a stylus pen in his smooth cursive handwriting. He followed the woman to a room. It was a large room with grey walls, no windows and multiple dental chairs lying far from each other. A few people lay on the chairs with black goggles on their eyes. The woman asked Mandar to lie down on one of them. Next to his chair was a tall steel rack with cardiac imaging equipment and a large screen laptop. The woman switched them on. She removed the covers of white round tablets placed in a small bowl on the rack and handed them to Mandar.

"Stick these on your chest, right arm, left wrist and the sides of your forehead," she pointed at the spots on his body, "We'll be tracking your vitals throughout the procedure. If we spot something abnormal, the service will be paused or immediately terminated if you experience any serious discomfort."

"What terrifying things do people come across in the VR that their vitals get disturbed?" Mandar asked as he undid the second button of his white shirt to stick the white tablets on his chest.

The woman chuckled. "Don't worry, it's rare... but not impossible. The VR shows you random moments so we never know how you may react to it. Just remember that it's a simulation and enjoy."

The woman wrapped a black rubber belt around Mandar's forehead. It had tiny metallic squares on its inside that felt cool on his skin. She plugged the wires connected to the belt into the laptop and started an application.

"With this remote you can skip parts of the program if you want." The woman gave him a small white box with a fast-forward button on it. "In about thirty minutes, the application will prepare the VR program and upload it into the goggles. Till then, you can lie down and watch something if you want."

Shuffling the remote in his hand, Mandar noticed a large black screen hanging above him. No, he wasn't going to watch anything now. Frowning, he scratched the cream faux leather of his armrest. What if his life turned out to be better as a woman? He'd have to figure out a way to live his life normally again without feeling pity for himself. He'll have to punch his friends, too.

While the thoughts hovered in his mind, the woman appeared out of an adjacent room and disconnected the black VR goggles plugged into the laptop.

Mandar wore the goggles and plugged in a pair of ear pods. His eyes were open but he saw nothing in the dense darkness. In a flash, the company's logo appeared against a white background.

***

In black bold letters, 'Age 5' flashed in front of Mandar's eyes and disappeared. The VR began. He looked up and down, right and left. He had no body in the VR; he was a spectator in his house.

A fat television sat on a short wooden cupboard, next to it floral curtains swirled with the breeze blowing in from the window, and a pale green ceiling fan rotated at medium speed - everything belonged to the time when he was a kid. A five-year-old girl in a frock with fountain-like ponies ran with silver anklets chiming on her feet. Her mother followed her. Mandar instantly recognized her - his young mother in a cotton gown with blacker hair, faster feet, and brighter eyes. He smiled. The girl snuggled in her father's lap who was reading a newspaper. He was a lean man with a black mustache wearing a white cotton kurta. His father taught the girl English words from the newspaper. He spelled them out and she repeated after him in a sweet voice. That's how he used to spend his Sunday mornings as a kid! The memories came rushing to his mind. After the English lessons, the girl scurried to her room. Mandar gaped at his room. The walls were pink instead of blue. The girl played with a doll house and tiny utensils instead of cars and action figures like he did. The girl had none of his toys, bags or stickers on his cupboard. Everywhere, he saw pink things with Barbie posing on them.

The VR reached Age 7, then Age 9. The girl grew taller but her features were similar to Mandar's - a round face, thin lips, smooth nose and thick black hair. She rode on her bicycle with her friends; they were girls Mandar didn't recognize. Along with her parents, she took trips to the Juhu beach on Saturdays and visited her grandparents. Apart from a few differences, the girl's life was similar to Mandar's life then - wake up late, study a bit, play a lot, eat, sleep, repeat.

At Age 11, the girl stood half-naked in front of her cupboard mirror. Mandar pressed the fast-forward button but then released it. The girl was him. He was looking at himself and not some random minor. With an uncomfortable and half convinced mind, he continued. The girl cupped her small bare breasts with curious hands; she pressed them to flatten but they lightly bounced back as she released her hands. She asked herself, "How big will these grow before they stop?" Clicking her tongue, she dressed up. Mandar pressed the button again, afraid he might see things he shouldn't. His body hadn't surprised him when he was 11. His sole concern was not having a sparse moustache like his older friends.

At Age 13, the girl wanted to play at night with her girl friends; she told them to convince their parents and meet in the community hall. Mandar's parents denied her permission saying it was unsafe. The girl pleaded but it was useless. Mandar recalled playing at night during his vacations. He was never restricted. There were no girls playing around at night. His teenage mind had never cared to figure out why.

The girl's life was diverging from what his life was then. Mandar let out a sigh and tried to absorb the growing differences he observed.

At Age 15, the girl stood in front of her mirror again, this time bursting a pimple between her nails. She peered at the small pit on her face for further oozing of blood and pus and wiped it with a handkerchief. Mandar could relate to that. After the intense scenes from earlier Ages, this was comforting. The girl then removed her blood-soaked sanitary napkin to replace it with a fresh one.

"What the hell..." The sight of blood made Mandar dizzy. The VR became blank.

"Mandar, are you okay?" The woman asked him as she took off his goggles.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Actually, I can't stand the sight of blood and I saw plenty of it all of a sudden," he smiled weakly, "Can I have some water, please?"

"Oh, sure." The woman filled up a glass. "Your blood pressure dropped suddenly so the program paused and notified me."

Mandar sat straight and gulped down the water.

"Can I continue?" He returned the glass.

"Are you sure?"

Mandar nodded and wore the goggles. "Don't worry, I'll be fine."

As the VR continued from Ages 17 to 23, the girl - now a full grown woman - was busy studying most of the time. She got a better preference during college admissions. Bus and train seats were available to her at a greater ease. Not everything's terrible, Mandar thought.

The woman turned 25. Mandar found himself in the middle of a fierce argument. The woman pleaded with her parents to not look for her marriage proposals so soon. The parents, now bespectacled and heavier, told her to think about her future with a clear head; if she doesn't marry in time, it'll be difficult to find a groom for her later. No one marries an older woman, they said. The woman wiped the tears streaming down her cheeks and stormed towards her room. Mandar's parents hadn't started nudging him to get married until he turned 30. His mind became numb. He had never seen his parents that stressed out and aggressive. He took in a deep breath and exhaled through his mouth.

Tired of the frequent marriage discussions, the woman struggled to move out of her house in Ages 27 and 29 - she fought with her parents, looked for affordable houses and a better paying job. In Age 31, she was successful. Like Mandar, she'd joined an elite school as a mathematics teacher. She rented a house along with two women. Mandar had never considered moving out; he didn't have to pay rent or worry about groceries, his mother served him good food and he enjoyed watching cricket with his father. The marriage nudges had devolved into discussions but they were tolerable and far from the fierce arguments he'd witnessed. Mandar was impressed by his female self.

At 33, the woman bought a car and went to a shopping mall. She shuffled through colourful t-shirts with floral patterns and looked for pants, shoes and dresses. Mandar wished men's clothing were as vibrant and diverse. He was happy for the woman. She had thicker hair, fewer creases on her forehead and she walked with confident steps. She entered the parking lot and walked towards her car. Near another car, three men stood chatting. They stopped talking as they saw her and eyed her from head to toe. Mandar had often seen men like them. Without looking at them, the woman increased her pace and stepped inside her red car. Mandar wanted to punch the men but realized he had no body. A cloak of helplessness enveloped him. He stared at the men with contempt as one of them smacked his lips. The VR became blank.

The woman took off Mandar's VR goggles and asked him, "So, how was it?"

It took a couple of seconds for the question to register in Mandar's mind after which he nodded slowly.

"It was insane and...insightful." He sat up in the chair. "What do women feel about their alternate male lives?" Mandar took off the white tablets and the black band on his forehead.

"A lot of them witness male privilege. But they don't regret being a woman in a man's world." She shut down the machines. "They don't have everything served up to them; they have to earn everything and it's worth it."

"Do you feel the same?"

She smiled and said, "I think so."

***

The scorching brightness of the sun compelled Mandar to frown as he stepped outside the Netra VR office building. He waved at a cab passing by and got in.

In the air-conditioned cab, Mandar rested his head on the headrest. He half-expected himself to be relieved now that he knew his life wouldn't necessarily have been better as a woman, but the thoughts stirring in his mind didn't let him be at peace.

Chance is a cruel fork in the road, he thought. There's a fifty percent chance of being born as a male or a female. A phenomenon with a probability of half has the power to shape someone's entire life. A different set of chromosomes mean a different life. Wow.

He pulled out his phone out of his pocket and texted Nitin, "Thanks for the VR thing man. I've paid for it, so you don't need to do that." He hovered his thumbs over the keypad before typing, "Maybe Arnav was right."

The cab stopped outside his house. Mandar stepped out.

"Thank you!" The cab greeted with a female voice and blinked its headlights at Mandar.

"You're welcome." He caressed the silver bonnet of the car.

***

"Hey, I convinced sir to make you the host." Pragati joined Mandar as he left a classroom and walked down the hallway.

"You didn't have to do that."

"We all know how much you love Raghav Mistry. It would be memorable for you if you became the host." She straightened her orange kurti.

"But sir is right about improving your skills. You shouldn't miss this opportunity." Mandar stopped and said, "What if we become co-hosts?"

Pragati raised her eyebrows.

"I'll help you out if you get nervous or stuck." Mandar stared at his feet. "Moreover, it would be more representative." He looked up. "What do you think?"

Pragati nodded and said, "Sounds good. Let's discuss this with sir."

Walking towards the principal's cabin, Mandar told Pragati about his VR experience.

"Seriously? How can you faint at the sight of a sanitary napkin?" Pragati laughed.

"It was full of blood and I couldn't look at it."

"Thank God, you're not a woman."

Mandar smiled and said, "Yeah, but I might've turned out well had I been one."

By Sakhi Dayanand Gundeti