Dear Reverend Father Kurien,
Father, father help me! I have a sinful confession to make! I am not a good wife. Marriage is a funny monster coz’ opposites attract. You knew that already, didn’t ya!
Like Rosemary and the Devil! Yeah, the same one, the virgin who had sex with Satan and had his baby! Oh, Satan loves fucking virgins and making them pregnant! Wait a minute, isn’t that the orgasmic fantasy of men?
Do you know what my ultimate wet-dream is? Oops! Is that you peeing in your pants already, after scratching your head, digging your nose, and chewing your nails? Admit it; you have no clue whatsoever!
So, my husband loves horror movies and I, abhor them with all my body, mind, and soul! My wet-dream is to have my man squirm in his seat, sneak a glimpse or two in-between the quick blinks of his shut-eye, gasp, and let out a voiceless scream, before grasping my toned biceps tight, and taking refuge in it. All this while I salivate watching the horror flick blink less in pitch blackness, while smirking and looking down at the cowardice of my male partner.
That’s my secret fetish, Father! After all, why should Satan, oops men have all the fun?
I see women all around me, sinking in the same terror boat. Horror is soft porn for men in contrast. It’s a candy shop. Not so much for us, women!
Am I the only woman to notice that the ghosts love to pick on and haunt a particular type? Like our desi boys looking for a fair, slim, virgin as their bride via the traditional arranged marriage system! All this marriage talk is suddenly so much more relatable now, na!
As much as the ghosts lust after the subtly beautiful, teenage girls, their goodness triumphs over all evil. Sweet! Not! This ‘put your head between your legs and kiss your ass good-bye’ fate of the ghost is brought upon by the pure desi ghee variety of the highest grade virginity of ‘The Final Girl’ standing.
But the ghost doesn’t disappear just like that, not without demanding his pound of flesh literally. The empowered women who have (God forbid, if they enjoy) sex are the first ones to die. The ‘Sex by death’ trope is a worse curse than the apple bitten by a tempted Eve in the Garden of Eden. Or are we talking about the same thing here? Temptation, Knowledge, Pleasure, Death?
Innocence (more like ignorance) is sweet and endearing enough for the magnanimous ghost to leave the poor ‘lost-in-the-woods babe’ alive. In ascending order, the most beautiful, sexiest, and youngest virgin is alive ad standing victorious at the end. Of course, not before all the ‘creepy stalking and terrorizing the knickers out of her’ daily night routine.
What’s with men and their obsession with a woman’s virginity? They can murder on earth to fuck 72 beautiful virgins, waiting as reward for the Jihadis in heaven.
Eureka! I’ve cracked upon the mystery of the all-male bravado of watching horror movies. Rosemary and her byproduct baby are a ghost and a man’s ultimate fantasy!
After suffering through piles of dead bodies on-screen and sleepless nights and days, weeks-long after, with permanent dark circles, I’ve discovered that we, women, have been taken for a royal ride. As always in life, in horror movies as well.
And all along this inconsolable ride, I have been suffering a massive imposter syndrome. I’m a born feminist who writes articles on women’s empowerment and known for being outspoken and fearless. Except, of course, when it comes to watching a horror movie.
It’s time we turned the tables, and have young, hot, blood-soaked male virgin protagonists, running shit-scared for cover from the all-powerful, all-knowing feminine force. We, the women, command more representation in the ‘Final Girl’ trope as well – thick women, short women, colored women, women who enjoy sex, ‘kick-your-ass’ women who are just as deliciously sinful and evil as their ghostly counterpart. To beat the shit out of evil, you gotta be the bigger evil. At least on the big screen, we can let our imagination run wild. He-haw-haw-haw!
I mean, what’s the whole point for women to watch horror movies when there’s nothing in there for us? It’s like going to Udupi, but not dining at a Udupi restaurant. The whole horror genre is a deceptively progressive trap with a woman protagonist, who’s given ample screen-time, only to play up the male gaze, and fulfill their secret fetishes.
So, unless horror movies have similar ‘devil lies in the details’ for us women, I’m seriously considering putting this whole genre on the back burner. Or go for a sex-change!
On second thoughts, Nah! not worth it!
Udupi, here I come!
(PS: I forgot to ask! Do you enjoy horror movies too, Most Reverend Father Kurien?)