Somethings to hate

I hate it when you shout at me, for all the small small things
I hate it, in my eyes, the tears you bring
I hate when you at times you just want to play alone, in your own dreamland alone
I hate it when you don’t want to talk and ask what’s been happening with me, even though when we are in the same house
I hate it when I know that I am equally at fault
I hate it when I realize that, in practice, I have forgotten all about men that my ma taught, or may be I don’t want to practice after all
But what I hate the most is all these years I loved you still
I hate it that in somewhere inside me I always will.

I Do or Do I?

Wanted: Male, age no bar, but prefer someone who still has hair left on the head, good looking but not vain, no attitude and definitely no chauvinistic tendencies, believes in equalities but chivalrous too, well read and fun loving, not short, well read and a good cook.

Well… this was the list I came up with when my mother asked me what kind of a husband I would want. I agree I am not Aishwarya Rai… quite the opposite infact, but since I was given a choice to say what I wanted in a prospective groom, I made the best possible use of the opportunity.

My mother frowned deeply and expressed her disapproval deeply at the lack of inquiry of whether the groom should be “well settled”, “fair and handsome”, “decent” and most important a “Hindu”. I guess she knew exactly what I was trying to do… discouraging her from broaching the topic of marriage.

When you are an Indian woman and you turn 24, everything around you changes. It starts with your mum meeting your aunties over a casual cup of tea and they innocently enquire “Aap ki beti Mumbai mein hain na? Aur achchi naukri bhi karti hain. Hamaari nazar mein ek ladka hain….”

Next thing you know your mum and dad decide to take out your janam patri (horoscope) from somewhere down below the old trunk and start pondering over it that the daughter has attained the right age … err… “jawan ho gayi hain” and it’s the right time to start searching for a prospective groom.

I screamed in horror when these thoughts were conveyed in a sugar coated voice from my mom and an authoritarian voice from my dad (atleast he was trying his best to sound strict, he knows by now that I have followed his gene pool and hence, will do exactly what I please). But that set me thinking… if they are so adamant on it why not meet a couple of guys and find out? It can’t be that bad and it will keep my folks satisfied.

I met four men in the span of one month and the experiences can themselves be one long story. One of the men seemed more comfortable talking to me on the net than face to face… something related to being used to software professional (!). The other thought why I was telling him that I like reading Saki, when it is a Japanese wine. The third was as boring as it gets (and I guess it was mutual). Infront of the fourth one, well… I farted…

To sum it up if adventures of seeking a groom are what I have experienced, I will gladly stick to living in sin anyday.