Skip to main content

I am tired...

(My first ever pilfered blog entry... Reason.. I had no better words for the same experience )
A woman calls, out of the blue.
Asks a bunch of very personal questions… her reasoning?
She has a daughter of “marriageable age”.

How do you look?
What kind of a person are you?
How much do you earn?
Are you religious?
How long is your hair?
How are you usually dressed?
What do you do for killing time?
Why do you cycle?
How are your domestic skills?
How close are you to your relatives?


It all sounds funny if I repeat it to friends. I will laugh, they will laugh and we would get back to work. But it would continue to prey on my mind. Somewhere down the lane, I have got used to being checked out in get togethers. I have got used to whispered gestures and speaking to strangers on the phone. I have got used to being polite to the rudest enquiries.

Am I just another one in the market?
Am I the same person I used to be?

23 and Single !!!!
High earning snot-nosed SOB with no sense of humor, out of sync clothes and god knows what else.

Leave me alone.
Don’t tax my sense of humor any further.
Thank you.

Comments

Anonymous said…
:o) we all go through it dont we...!
But you are just 23, the pain has just begun sonny boy, the pain has just beegun.
Cheers
toinks~

Popular posts from this blog

Raizada Heritage Fund and Trip to Woodlands

I have a confession to make. We don’t have a sofa at home. We seriously don’t.. Over the last two years, whenever Vartika has broached the touchy topic of a Sofa buy, I have ended up doing rants on how the money saved on not buying a Sofa would be able to feed us for a month, in case startup went bust. (And no, I was not counting on dumb UPA government allowing Sharad Pawar to make billions running amok on the vegetable and cereals market and looting us. In that case, count that sum to last for mere 15 days. That rant is for a separate day) Imagine a 30-40k sofa and me eating it, like the borers mostly do. Tough to imagine and sad to think of. So I return to the sofa tales. Vartika knew I had make her do with those mattresses. You know how dumb I am, relentlessly pointless. Unfortunately I ran into an Ariean, and that too my Mom. She looked at me and the mattresses and then again at me, and I went ballistic. From the sensibility of an accountant, to the eruditeness of an economist (De

Can life teach?

It actually began, quite reluctantly. Unnecessary as it may seem, life teaches you what you allow it to teach. Even Life cannot teach you what it offers you. One has to let himself dissolve into the experience and let it sink in, and that I might call religion or education. Whatever the other person is willing to accept. Nay. Does it matter? Nay. Life is about teaching oneself. Being a self-thought-taught "person", picking up bits and pieces from various experiences, I tread on a path; I have myself laid out for myself. Never have I asked, in other words, begged for words, from "messiahs". Never did I think myself of having enough virtue, call it patience, to learn from others. So "rich" were my experiences. Things change, dynamically. Responding to an open question, throwing caution to the winds, I immersed myself into a debate, with people who thought, had streamlined their thinking apparatus and abilities. Gradually, they pestered; read "lee

The void...

I feel empty. I feel raw. I feel rotten. I feel like not feeling. I have nothing to show, if someone to ask me about what I have achieved in my stay on this planet. Nothing. what is a few flirtations with literature, knowledge, pain and sweat. No blood. No tears. No medallions. No gallantry. Ah! I am disgusted with myself for being so ordinary. I deserve the void for I do not work half as hard as I could. I am wasting my life.