The one thing that binds us women together is the slush of blood that drips down our thighs for three to five days every month. We bitch about bloodstains on our clothes, linen, the change in pattern whether delayed or early. Its the one thing we have to keep track of or else surprise can be nasty.

Spotting, periods, chumming there are so many names we have given to these uncomfortable days, days that had us barred from prayer rooms, kitchens and even from enjoying conjugal rights, though I've been told that its hot and slippery , something Marilyn Manson should have tried with his girlfriend, sex in her blood, yeah, wrinkle your nose but its one of those earthy topics thats always in your face screeching out from ads on as Pearl, Whisper, Stayfree and countless others.

And if you happen to have a female companion you may even catch the whiff from the bathroom. It happens all the time when you are in a relationship. There is no way that you can avoid those days that make us women.

There are times when I wonder whether its a curse or a boon. Watching the bloody water whirl down the drain, exhausted and lifeless due to the heaviness felt in the uterus I feel nothing like my former self and curse my karma for being born a woman but looking at my children I realize its a gift I should not begrudge.

But still I ain't gonna be proud of being a bleeder. Its inconvenient. Can you imagine a cave woman being told to stay back in the cave coz the smell of blood may spoil the hunt? Sniff Sniff, yeah the babe is fertile. Does it not make us sex objects? Isn't that the flip way of looking at? It strengthens and weakens us at the same time.

A boon a curse who cares? I will probably suffer it for another twenty years and then take Estrogen to ensure I don't grow hair on my chin and look supple.

Damn it woman suffer the shit while it infects your life! Yeah, who the fuck cares, I'll just ride the bloody wave as countless women do.