Thursday, March 28, 2013

Happy Holi :)

No, I cannot get married ever. If husband is such an antithesis to my dream guy, I can't. I am not a male hater. Why, most of my best friends have been men folk and I get along with them wonderfully well. And I feel they can be good human beings if they want. I have always dreamed of love, immense love from the person I marry. Way I love, the person should love me back. I cannot marry an idiot, drab person just for the sake of getting a conjugal life (OMG aren't my words strong these days???)

I am a realistic person. I know that I will grow old and lonely and helpless. So? Accept the next best option? For everything else in life, may be yes, but not for my life partner. He has to be the best, as I am the best. I liked that line in "Almost Single" - there comes a time when girls give up on their Mr. Right and look for Mr. Right Now. Ha ha ha, I was ROTFL reading it, but well, if the last marriageable age in India is 28 (may be 30 by stretching it far) I have already crossed the limit by 3 years. So why be conscious now about how I am placed socially. I can very confidently dream of a future when I am too old to move around and may be one day, simply collapse and die because there's no one to take care of me or give me food. I am that realistic. But then, spending more than 50% of your precious life in a mock relationship just for the sake of some support in those days (and that's also not guaranteed mind you, there's every chance that the husband person dies before me and the kids leave me and settle down somewhere else, happens all the time) - I cannot do that.

I thank the kid silently, for the small pinch of color he put on my face. I love holi. I remember the crazy holi celebrations way back in college, university, or in my first company, while we were having the training. These days, there's nothing. The little bit of color, I can't tell how much void it filled up. Who knows if there'd be anyone doing this to me ever again in this life. Mom tells me that I first learnt to dance at the age of 3 with the typical "দোল পূর্নিমা" song "ওরে গৃহবাসী" when we visited Shantiniketan during that time. I remember visiting it once more during the same time, when I was 17, and I remember how much I enjoyed "তাসের দেশ" and "নিয়ম Vs. ইচ্ছা" amid solving mechanics problems (it was the +2 season too). So I am basically like that. Some people move on, some don't. I don't want to move on. Not romantically, and not right now anyways.

What a turn life has taken in the past year - I still remember watching the full moon, sitting behind Boo on his bike, with an South Indian aunty glaring at us, as I kissed his back. I recoil a bit and said, Boo, aunty is angry. He looks back at aunty, and asks, why? She saw me kissing your back. Oh! did you? he exclaims - without my permission you dared to do that? I recoil further, and very meekly but boldly enough nod a yes. As we smile mockingly at aunty and her son, and roar the bike ahead, I tell him, my my, aunty will never get such a shameless wife for her son.

Ok, so it is decided, that I am never getting married. Fine. So what's next? Africa??? Hey did I tell you about the PP? The PP is my latest crush, besides some celluloid person, who has featured in only one remix song and is supposedly a super model. Though the celebrity guy is equally cute (and going by my standards, the guy is a B Tech, MBA as well), but still he seems a long shot. The PP is also equally a long shot, but I happen to see him every day and have talked with him only once (you guessed it right, it was on a Thursday) - but I somehow like the PP, through an idea my dear M planted in my head - that PP looks good and I should go for him (I, as usual, don't find anyone to be better than my Boo) and then she herself rejects the idea after couple of days having done enough research and having discovered that HH (Handsome Hunk, as we called him earlier) is actually a PP (Pagal Punjabi). And then there are couple of married dudes, who have been in love with me in their pre marital phase, and that love somehow still lingers. But ya, I am not much interested in them. The PP though, is cute (when someone would put up his current address as Mumbai in one place, and Africa in another place, he somehow becomes cute, given that I see him every day in a city called Bangalore - when you find the same mistake being repeated for place of work and educational qualification - it becomes cuter - and things cross limit when you discover that guy is supposed to be a statistician). So I see the PP these days (though not as intensely as the Avatar - I see you), and I have all funny issues because of him. Today I din't have something ironed for office, and once I woke up, there was no time to iron (shit, neither do I have for tomorrow). I however, had this very brown salwar suit (with yellow flowers, if you can believe that), with a browner dupatta. which was stitched around 6 years back. I usually don't wear tailored clothes, but the ones I have from some year back look like a second skin on me, I have bloated up so much. But at the spur of the moment it was like - say goodbye to office, and get a LOP or wear the tawny colored number (ya, again guessed it right, it was not yellow flowers, but tawny ones - M commented how mummy-ish it looked). So I adorned it carefully with the brown dupatta (to hide the top and middle parts which were shamelessly jutting out) - and looked a complete Hindustani girl (people actually inquired about what's wrong with me today - I usually have a good dressing sense you see). So cut shot, and we go for an elaborate lunch. The elaborate lunch is a regular affair these days, as mostly by mid day me and M will be totally stressed out, and good food is all we'll be looking for. On our way back, tummy jutting out even more, and happen to be face to face with PP. I tell M, when she comes back to her desk (we are neighbors as you know) - M, M I saw PP. M chirps, so did I. He was looking quite a dude. I sadly respond, and me, a behenji :( :(
So the PP is a good past time. The fact that I have learnt 50% of BPM is a good thing. The fact that I am about to visit Calcutta in the summer heat is not that good a thing, but if it gets unmanageable, we can always buy an AC. So overall, life's good. And I am definitely not interested in how to code notepad to show and hide on the hit of a function key :( :( :@ :@ So, isn't life colorful, despite all the dark hues? See, I told you :)

No comments: