Survival tips for Sistahs

Since the issue of make-up came up on another list, I paid it some thought.
There seem to be different stages of initiation that will tell you, my sistah, if you are in the process of coming to terms with the Indian subcontinent. First thing is to learn to apply nail polish flawlessly in a driving risksha in Monsoon. You might want to continue with mascara, but be VERY VERY carefully. Then learn to step gracefully and without compulsively thinking about global solutions about seemingly sleeping or dead bodies. Next level of initiation is to learn how to cope with the constant harrassment. You will never again be craving attention from men after getting an overload of it. Am I the only woman in the world with a pair of boobs, you will ask yourself. Do I miraculously resemble a porn star? Did my T-shirt shrink in the laundry? Why are all these people scratching their balls, make obscene gestures and try to get my attention at all cost, making Sicilians look like gay interior designers? Would it help to be Helen Keller and deaf on top of it? Not really. You wouldn't make it through the traffic for 3 seconds. A chador, maybe? We will never find out but Bridget Jones would be a happy woman in Bombay.