Bachelors Ahoy

Bachelors Ahoy!
Punam Khaira Sidhu

LIKE every married woman, I believe that there’s a perfect soulmate waiting out there for every eligible male. I am, much to my husband’s disgust, an inveterate matchmaker. It is with considerable concern, therefore, that I comment on the current scenario. Never before in the history of this wonderful land of Heers and Ranjhas , Sohnis and Mahiwals has there been a time such as this. Not one, not two, but three highly eligible bachelors looming large over the social horizon. A soon-to-be Prez, a PM and a Governor. There’s something wrong with the Indian Eve or else the institution of marriage is under siege.

The latest Census figures are shocking— 933 women for every 1000 males, while in Punjab it is lower at 874 for every 1000. Notwithstanding the declining sex-ratio, there is an incredibly large number of eligible females. The long line of Indian lovelies, the Miss Universes, and Miss Worlds who have articulated over satellite television, that “the new Indian woman knows what she wants and how to get it”, should be training their sights on these irresistible men. Let’s take a look at the lineup.

Heading the list is the man who reportedly doesn’t own many suits and shoes but will shortly be moving into the most coveted address in the country: Rashtrapati Bhavan. Nobel Laureate stuff, he’s called the father of India’s nuclear programme. His CV lists the development of SLV 3, Agni and Prithvi missiles and Pokhran. He’s responsible for India’s membership into the exclusive Nuke Club. Plays the veena and writes poetry. Put your hands together for the Presidential nominee and the confirmed long-haired bachelor lighting up our television screens.

Keats, Tennyson, Wordsworth, and Shelley notwithstanding, poetry is not a preferred macho male activity. A man who writes poetry is usually a man in touch with his soul. Sensitivity and compassion are invariably the natural corollaries.

The next bachelor on the list is a poet of repute, besides being the poster boy for the NDA combine. At home in a dhoti or a suit, a bandgala or chinos. Warm, witty, erudite and articulate, he is the gentleman Prime Minister of the country.

A retired soldier and a gentleman who dwells in the stately splendour of the Punjab Raj Bhavan at Chandigarh. He is an immaculate dresser with an enviable collection of hats. A man of many parts, he takes his role as Administrator (UT) very seriously. What endears him is his special soft corner for the less privileged. So whether it’s the football academy or the night schools in the UT villages or a new wing for the City Museum and Art Gallery, the Governor tackles them all with indefatigable zeal. His latest quest to do away with the Inspector Raj by reviewing building bye-laws and zoning restrictions in Chandigarh should earn him a place for posterity even in the notoriously shortlived public memory. He is the Governor of Punjab.

Three distinguished men, powerful and good-looking to boot. And in a world full of married men, breathtakingly single and fancy free. The road to success evidently requires sacrifices. Long, hard years of arduous work, take their toll of normal family life. But having climbed to the very top rung of the ladder of success, it would surely be nice to have someone with whom to share their achievements. So what are you waiting for ladies?