Sunday, May 15, 2011

WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOU, ADONIS?



I know I know! I promised you I’d keep you updated with my search for my “elusive Prince Charming” and make sure the gossipy fat aunty that lies inside each of you (don’t deny her existence, she has ways of getting back you can’t dream of!) is satiated with enough raunchy details. I know I’ve been neglecting what I was born to do- provide crass literary entertainment at my expense, but really guys, believe it or not, I have a life too, okay? Well, okay, not as happening as yours, but still.
Life has a way of making you feel worried about certain things that you otherwise wouldn’t give a fuck about. Really.
Take for instance, this whole marriage scene. I wasn’t worried about when I would get married. And who I would eventually get married to. And what that would be like. I had just assumed that I would have a “..and she lived happily forever after”. It seemed a natural enough assumption for me. I mean, how else could life possibly treat me? I’m too nice to deserve any less, right?
But just when I was settling into this oh-so-comfortable notion, a new side of the story, hitherto ignored, decides to present itself in neon color.
Let me begin from the start. I can count 5 people, other than family, who have been extremely close to my heart. They’ve been a part of my childhood and/or teenage life and have stuck on because they managed to wriggle their sneaky way in to my shell. I often refer to them as my closest friends.
Now, four out of five of these great friends decide to tell me in January that they are getting married. Number One tied the knot in January. Number Two ties the knot in another 5 days. Number Three does it next month. And Number Four does it the month after that. I wouldn’t at all be surprised if Number Five comes knocking at my door with his wedding card in tow any day now.
And if you haven’t guessed by now, this new development has me freaked out oh-so-completely (especially with Mom reminding me every weekend- ALL your friends are getting married)!
I mean, what about me? I haven’t even been looking! Hell, I don’t even know where to begin looking! I mean it’s not something that I can just decide that I want and go out tomorrow, do a bit of comparative shopping and come back with the best bargain, right? Though I really think if someone would start manufacturing Perfect Men I’d go out and splurge just to even the score.
But for now, I’m stuck in a position that I can’t make much sense out of. Okay, so do I want to get married? Well, yeah, but what’s the rush?
I’m not men-o-phobic and I’m not a feminist. But what’s the hurry? Am I ready? Is my life ready? I want a fairy-tale beginning to my story. Why should I settle for anything less? The idea of staying alone, working all day and coming back to an empty house does not repel me. Mom says it’s only till the time I’m young that I’ll enjoy this state. But it doesn’t sound bad to me. I could travel the world alone. Have a home entertainment system and a stock of 500 DVDs to amuse me when I’m down. Work my ass off and not have to worry about what I have to cook for the family when I get home. I could keep 3 cats and 1 dog as my companions. Hire a cook, a maid and a driver and continue living the life of a princess.
It sounds great, doesn’t it?
Impractical, illogical, but great. I can’t force myself to go out there and fall in love with someone who is ‘marriage-material’, as the girls say. I doubt if I fit into that category. Now, don’t get me wrong. I have enormous respect for the concept of marriage and family. But I will not rush into something because of a reason like the biological clock. I don’t see myself as a baby-popping machine and it just seems like a ridiculous reason to get into a relationship.
But I also have no qualms in admitting that a Constant would do my life some good. God knows I fumble way too much than your average Jane.
I tell anyone that I’m 29 and the first question they ask me is – No marriage plans yet?
And then they try to feign surprise, amusement and distrust by contorting their faces when I say NO.
I’ve never given in to peer pressure. Alcohol, dope, kinky sex, metal, weed…they all passed me by. But the times-they-are-a-changing. I feel the pressure now and it’s not comfortable.
 I would just like to meet the man I would get married to. And I have nothing romantic to say to him. He deserves one tight slap for putting me through this nonsense. And then, maybe, I'll decide if he's marriage-material or not.
Because I deserve nothing but the bestest of the best. And I am not settling for anything halfway. The jigsaw puzzle of life will not be incomplete if it has a missing piece. It'll just not be perfect.