You only get scared of the giant wheel till you are on it, after that it's a fun ride you will never forget

Well, well…this is evidently a long pending post that is almost four months late. But I should say it’s in time to greet the Chinese Year of the Dragon. Anyway, after much procrastination and some tough decisions (like deciding not to make my blog a travel diary) I have moved my lazy ass to sit down and write a post for ‘2012’.

First things first, I am not writing from Bangalore, the city which was my home for the last three years and which drove me so damn nuts that I created a blog diary The Color Purple (which thou art reading at the moment) to share my inner most depressed thoughts with the unsuspecting public. :p I am also not writing from my family home in the little beach town Udupi on the west coast of Karnataka where I spent the first 21 years of my life and took refuge from the madness of the world now and then. I am writing from Kingston upon Thames, a borough of London in the far away island of United Kingdom.

I am no longer a workaholic Public Relations professional or a financially independent ‘Fire-brand’. I am a student dependent on parents for pocket money. I no longer live in a cramped rented 1BHK house in Bangalore with a half crazy roommate, filling my lungs with nicotine while pounding out blogs and stories to de-stress. I am writing sitting in my own cubby hole of a study-bedroom with no way of filling my lungs with nico while I write for fear of setting off the fire alarm. I no longer write to de-stress, instead I write full time as apart of my Creative Writing course.  How life changes doesn’t it?

Flashback to January 2011. Overworked. Stressed out. Neurotic. Grumpy. Depressed. You get the drift. That’s when this great idea finally crossed my mind. I thought, “why not go back to University and complete my education? How about doing my Post-grad? I could do with a break right? I had to get that all-day-smile my friends oh so missed back on my face”. It sounded like a great plan and the research began over Kingfisher-Strong powered late night online sessions. A plan emerged, only to be cut short by the family astrologer (to whom my well meaning mother relays every event in our lives) who said I should drop any such plans. After much motherly emotional drama- which every Indian mother worth her salt would approve of- I decided to drop the plan. Well family comes first right?

February and March zipped by and I continued with the banal existence. Then the heavens opened up and sent me a divine message. It was April and I was in the middle of a lead-up meeting to the annual review session at work, sitting across my Boss and was fielding some googlies meant to see how ready I was to take on more responsibility when I was asked this oh-so-irritating question, “Where do you see yourself 10 years from now”? And guess what happened? First time in the three years in that company I was tongue-tied. I did not know what the heck I should answer. No I did not want more responsibility, not even a promotion or a raise. I wanted to be as far away from the profession as possible, I wanted to do something I had lately realised I was born to do. I wanted to write. God It was such a revelation! And that is when I changed my mind. Astrologer or no astrologer, I was going to write full time and I was going to fine tune my writing with a Post-Grad writing degree. The rest was not so easy but eventually it did fall in place. TG!

Strange are the ways of the world. The two people who propped me up through the next few months of mad applying to Universities, arranging finances, battling chicken pox and emotional meltdowns were my mum and my Dad. My Amma’s motherly love overtook beliefs in astrology and she decided to trust in God and help me through the last-minute-applying madness. So here I am, a Science group student who did an Undergrad degree in Journalism (thinking it was her true calling till she actually got into a newsroom and hated it), who stumbled upon Public Relations by chance and put in three years of her life trying to like it and finally was enlightened belatedly that all the while what she thought was a hobby was indeed her passion. WRITING, the ever-so-slippery eel of a calling that dawns on so many people so late in life. (I have a few 50+ year olds in my class and many in their post 30’s.)

So now that I know what I want to do in life am I happy? Well…let me put it this way: – I can’t complain. LOL I don’t work long hours (though I am hunting for a part-time job), I get to write whatever I want to, whenever I want to, I am writing a novel which is much loved in class, I get to meet some great people and explore a whole new culture that is Britain, I intend to travel through Europe and am getting to learn and do things that I never thought I would. (Aww my…my…that’s an awfully long sentence.) So you see I can’t complain.

All said and done there is something to following your passion. (Amir Khan might have tried hard to convey this message in 3 Idiots but I don’t see any change in the ‘IT world aspiring robots’ of our country.) Following your passion can put a smile back on your face,  bring lightness to your steps, gives you a sunshine attitude that rubs off on people around you and a purpose in life. And money, you ask? Well I don’t know, but if we are happy with what we are doing we will figure out the money part somehow isn’t it? At least, that’s what I think and I want to give my belief a chance. Right or wrong, time alone can tell.

***

Nov 3, 2011

Gasp..! Puff…! Breathe! Gasp…! Two extra hours in a day?  OMG…OMG! Dear Diary, I am welling over with emotion. Sniffle! This is such an emotional moment. I can’t believe this is happening. Before you think I am some kind of retard, let me tell you about my moment of extra-terrestrial communication today morning. No, by extra-terrestrial I do not mean communication with aliens. (Grow up dude.) I spoke with God dammit! Ya.. ya…you won’t believe it and extra-terrestrial is not the right word, but listen..this is what happened.

I was in my room today morning doing my 3 surya namaskars. Don’t laugh. Try doing 3 surya namaskars and you will know how tiring that is. My poor feet…! So..where was I? Ya… it was 9.30 a.m. Look I am tired of your giggling. Yes I do surya namaskars at 9.30 a.m. There I said it. Now shut your mouth and listen. So in the middle of the 2^nd surya namaskar I heard somebody calling my name. I looked around from under my belly, the world looking weird upside down, but couldn’t see anybody at the door. I continued with the namaskars when I heard it again. I am still hungover from yesterday night’s drinking, I thought and continued to the Kapalbhati. (Ramdev effect you see.)

I had shut my eyes and was trying hard to ignore the growling of my empty tummy as I squeezed my abdomen muscles in and out, in and out, when I saw a blinding light, right in the middle of my forehead. What the F..?! I almost fell back on the floor. This is crazy I thought and went to the bathroom to splash my face with some water. I should get a health check-up soon I muttered as I walked back to my yoga mat to continue with the Kapalbhatis.

I started slowly this time, my tummy providing background score with its growling. Then the light flashed.. again, blindingly this time and I heard the voice calling my name clearly. I couldn’t open my eyes. It was as if my eyelids were stuck together with feviquick. “Pallavi daughter…” the voice said. My jaw dropped open. All I could see was the blinding light. The voice seemed to come from somewhere deep inside my head. Now I realised that I couldn’t move…not even a limb! “Don’t be afraid, I am your supreme father,” the voice said. Haan..? My father is back at home and he speaks to me over the mobile phone not from inside my head, I thought. The voice seemed to know what I was thinking. “No, I am not your biological father. I am the father of your father, of everyone you know,” it said. Grandpa, I thought. “No stupid child. Don’t you get it? I am God, the supreme father of all creations,” the voice said. God…? God…! GOD…? Ha ha ha ha I went. PATAAAAK! One tight slap landed on my right cheek. Owwww I sobbed, tears welled in my eyes but wouldn’t fall, I couldn’t move but my cheek burned. Now I was listening. “Look child, I do not have much time to spare, but this is what I came to do. I heard your prayer yesterday while you were submitting your assignment and was moved by your tears. You wished there had been at least an extra hour in the day so that you could complete the assignment and looked up to me and asked why I don’t listen to your prayers. Hmmmm…I am going beyond protocol and giving you not one, but two extra hours today. Study, write, do your assignments, whatever you want in those two extra hours, but do not tell anyone. If you do, I will be angry…very angry. If I feel you deserve it, I might even give you extra two hours every day for the rest of your life. Now get to work and don’t ever say I do not listen to your prayers.” The blinding light dimmed and then vanished altogether. My ears were buzzing and sensation returned to my limbs. I could move and I jumped up shrieking. I must have fallen asleep, I thought and pinched myself hard. But it wasn’t necessary..My right cheek was still burning and I could see in the mirror that it had turned a bright red.  Did I just speak to god? Did I just speak to GOD I asked myself and almost ran to the door to tell my flatmates what I had seen and heard. I stopped in my tracks.. He had said he will be angry. Brrrrrr…. No, I won’t tell anyone I thought and shivered.

Then the realisation set in. I have two extra hours today? How can it be possible I scoffed! But…but..he said…and he is the creator. A shiver ran down my spine. Ok…cool..relax..I told myself. I then had the following soliloquy. “Breathe. So I am supposed to have an extra two hours today. It didn’t look like he was kidding, proof my right cheek. So I only have to wait and see whether it’s true. So if I am supposed to have 26 hours today, then it would end tomorrow morning. Wow! But how can I count if I will be sleeping by then. I do not wake up till 9! No, no I can’t let that happen. Idea! Let me eat and sleep now, and then wait from night to morning to see if the clock stops for me.” It made sense. I clapped my hands in delight and ran to the kitchen to get some breakfast.  I met my flatmate there and almost broke the news. Then my right cheek stung and I clasped both hands over my mouth and ran out of the kitchen. It was tougher than I expected. I went to the kitchen again when I was sure no one was around and gobbled some food. I came back to my room and hit the bed. I had a mission to accomplish. But I couldn’t sleep, try as I might I couldn’t. I day dreamed for a while, tossed around for some more, listened to music and finally decided to write this diary entry.. I must have drifted off around 1 ‘o’ clock.

Nov 4, 2011

I woke up to hear someone banging on my door. Oh crap!  My mouth tasted odd, the room was dark and I felt lethargic. I started to get up but plopped back on the bed again. Then I remembered my right cheek. Oh shit! God…! Time…! I have to wait I told myself and switched on the lights. It was 10 p.m. oh great, at least I woke up; I thought and opened the door of my room. It was my flatmate, come to check if I was all right. “I am ok..just a headache, so I slept,” I lied to her and came back to the room. I was hungry and I didn’t have food in the fridge. Damn I had to cook! I cooked some sambhar and rice and joined my flatmates in watching the cricket match on TV. When I finally escaped to my room it was cindrella time. 12! Perfect, now I could wait. But what would I do all the while waiting. Oh! He told me to study, I should complete the assignment maybe, I thought and opened my books. I do not know how the next few hours passed but when I came back to my senses I was sleeping with my head on my textbook, drool all over the pages. F#@! I jumped up and looked at the time. It was 3.30 a.m. Ouch! There is no stronger lullaby then a textbook, I thought and went to the bathroom to freshen up. Maybe I should have a shower, I considered; that would fully wake me up.

I emerged from the shower to see the first rays of the sun piercing the night sky. Wow! I have never seen a real sunrise before, I gasped and opened the curtains to savour the scene. I watched mesmerised as the sun rays shone, meekly at first, changing colours from gold to red to finally brilliant yellow.  Wow! It’s good to be alive, I exclaimed and with the smile still on my face gazed at the clock. It was 6.10 a.m. Woah! Just a few hours more, I told myself and sat at my study table. I did not feel like opening my books again. Maybe I will listen to some music, I decided and booted the laptop. The next few hours flew by with Facebook, twitter, Youtube and WordPress. I left enigmatic messages on ‘love of God’ on each one of the sites. When I checked the time again, it was 9! I couldn’t contain my excitement. Lesser than an hour to go; I began my vigilance of the clock.

True to his word, the clock stopped at 9.40 a.m. and stayed that way. I couldn’t get enough of looking at the clock in amazement and I stared and stared. After a long, long time the hands of the clock moved again. I jumped up laughing, bobbing up and down in delight. It happened, it happened I shouted. I was still hopping about when the blinding light struck my eyes. I shrieked and I heard the voice thunder. “Fool! Stupid child. What have you done? What did you do with the extra hours I granted you? What did you do with an entire day? You whiled it away. You whiled it away!”

“Sorry Father..” I was sobbing now. I was afraid.

“You didn’t deserve it. This is why I do not grant wishes to you human beings,” he thundered and the light vanished.

I was crying now and was deluged in my tears. I understood what he meant. I was ungrateful and undeserving. I wasted an entire day and an extra two hours. “I will not let it happen again. Sorry Father,” I whispered. I had to make amends. I dragged myself back to my study table, opened my books and slogged over them for the better part of the day. That night I slept peacefully. I dreamt that someone stroked my cheek, but otherwise the night and the following day were uneventful.

Nov 6, 2011

I have just submitted my assignment at the Faculty office, in time and complete. As I was waiting for the University bus to the flat I decided that I would tell people of my experience. It would make him angry but not angrier than he was when he found out I had wasted his gift. It would make him glad to see people realise his presence, his love and use their precious time in the right way. So here it is…I have told you what I did in the extra two hours God granted me and how that taught me to use my time constructively. Cheers!

Every story has a beginning. Mine has one too. Oh no, not the- I was born on this particular day in this particular clinic etc! (On second thoughts the adventure of my just-to-be-born self with the doctor’s forceps would be an interesting story but I will save it for another post.)

This is a stage zero post, a docking station for the already launched ‘New girl in the city’ series. It is a prelude to the series which has been very close to my heart. If ‘New girl in the city-1‘ was a self-consolation, ‘New girl in the city-2‘ was a pat on my own back. This post is none of those; it’s a self-deprecatory rap on the knuckle.

I have whined enough about the loneliness I faced when I moved to Bangalore for work. But have I bothered to look beyond Bangalore, to the time before I started living on my own? Was I never lonely before Bangalore? The answer is yes I was. So how come I never blogged about it as this blog is pretty much my personal diary of a public nature?

Well that’s how we justify our arguments isn’t it, by telling ourselves that the other side of the argument is redundant? But covering up is another form of distortion, even if it is from one’s own self, and I have covered up enough! I had even successfully convinced myself that the loneliness was a by-product of living away from home and friends. I feared to dig deep beneath the surface and tell myself that it was not the case.

Loneliness has always been my companion. I think it’s the case with a few people. Give them all the people and opportunities to bond with, but they will still prefer to wait for ‘their kind of people’ and stay lonely in the process. True that very few of them will want to discuss it on public forums, but the fact remains that some individuals have an affinity towards loneliness.

For instance juxtapose the cases of me and my friend who were both living away from home and were buried neck deep in strangers and the strangeness of a new city. He made friends everywhere he went, never felt ‘lonely’ (or maybe did not tell me). I on the other hand, pined for ‘my type of people’ and sulked and wrote countless blogs on it. My affinity to being lonely you see.

I know it sounds hare-brained but how else do I justify that I felt lonely well before Bangalore, in college too. In college for god’s sake! That too in a place like Manipal teeming with multiple thousands of students (and I lived with family too!) When people in my college were freaking out, I preferred to bury my nose in books for lack of ‘my type of company’.  Its nuts! In the recent past I have avoided doing the burying nose in books part, I have partied till I dropped, travelled, went on countless outings but still managed to remain lonely in a room full of people. Lonely must be in my genes.

So do I discount all the hard-earned gyaan in the ‘New girl in the city’ blogs? Well not exactly, maybe it’s all relative. To what you ask? Well to the happiness of other people around you and the state of mind while writing the blogs of course. So have I found out a sure shot way of getting over the ‘loneliness’ condition? Heck no. Life is much more fun with all the idiosyncrasies you see. Loneliness deserves a chance too, if only to make us more aware of how precious the moments are to be lost in whining away about it.

Every living soul goes through at least one life changing moment in which a revelation strikes like a thunderbolt, out of the blue, giving that moment in which the mind is suddenly crystal clear. For some great souls like Budha if the moment spells enlightenment of the greater mysteries of life, for lesser mortals like you and me it can as well be a “What am I doing in life?” kind of observation that when answered could lead to interesting kahaani me twists.

I had this “What am I doing in life?” question dawn on me exactly three years ago as I sat under a tree (No not Peepal tree) in a densely forested park near the famed Bull Temple in Bangalore. I had just graduated from Journalism school, was unemployed, was in search of my true calling and was living in a dingy PG in Bangalore to escape questions from family and friends back home.

There was no drum roll, no bolt of lightning, it just happened- a stream of bird shit dropped on me as I sat under that tree, free of responsibilities and questions. One moment I was hopping angry, the next I was asking myself what was I doing under that tree in the first place, what was I doing in life? That is when I answered it with- Nothing!

The nothing seemed so disgusting to me, I almost puked. I decided then and there that I was not going to squander away my life doing nothing. I walked back to the PG, made a few calls to friends asking them to refer any jobs in the media & communication field and made that one decision in my life that has been game changing to say the least. I have never sat doing nothing since then.The bird shit did it!

I had another one of the thunderbolt revelations a few months ago. It was bang in the middle of running hitching up my sari down a high security venue to be inaugurated by the Prez of India seconds before the Presidents convoy reached the spot. Spectators were confused, police befuddled and I hoped the earth would open up and swallow me. It is and I hope will remain my biggest goof up ever. But the point is, as my limbs were in action my brain had that moment of clarity. The “What the Fuck have I done?” observation. I answered it with “utter shit”. That’s it! I swore I will never take ANY undue risks in life and that I will think twice before moving a limb. Sigh! Hope the plan works. I do not want an encore of the Prez-wala incident. Brrrr…

So there it is folks, the secret of game changing decisions- the one moment of clarity, THE revelation. When you do get that one moment, grab it with both hands, it’s like orgasm, it’s wonderful while it lasts.

Ya so I was down with chickenpox the day I turned 24! A little late in life it seems to contract a child’s illness, but as mom and dad say, the extra care they took of me and sis in our childhood made us cheat the pox and its cronies.

So it happened that the much awaited long birthday weekend in my hometown got converted to a sick leave of 10 days. Nothing much happened in those 10+ days except that I reached new heights of ugliness, spent a lot of time lying on my back day dreaming and got a new perspective on life- albeit the dormant one.

When you look at life from the horizontal (you know what I mean) viewpoint, many of the mysteries of life dawn on you. For example, did you know that ants loveee human skin? They clamour for discarded bits. Ehww ain’t it? Pardon my lack of social etiquette but this is a fact I found out with a lot of trouble you see. Worth sharing! Another mystery of life that I decoded while I was at it is the “Bum balance”. When too much of sitting or sleeping turns your ass sore (yes it does) you balance yourself on 1 bum cheek, when that turns sore then the other and so on. And Voila! After 10 days you have a perfectly toned ass. I am considering patenting this technique.

Add to the soon to be patented knowledge the bliss of having a reason to getaway from work for 12 consecutive days without having to answer the 5Ws and 1H, minimal interference from visitors (people were scared shit of contracting the chickeny thing from me) and all the pampering that I can only hope to get in a spa under normal circumstances, and I am ready to forget all the bland food that I had to feed on until a month later and all the scars!

I came to recognize every contour of my bedroom, befriended the sugary sweet kitties in the wall posters my sis had stuck in the 3 years I loaned the room to her and even appreciated her “artwork” of fish, butterflies and sparrows in rainbow colours on the walls. Shudder!

Maybe the chickenpox was a blessing in disguise for my overworked, workaholic bones. A weight loss programme fate threw along the way, a time to re-connect with family and my soul. Either which ways I have utilized it fully, completely and to the best of my ability.

Now to get my 1 minute of fame with the patent. Muahhh!

I write this post sitting at home in my home town, quite unlike the other posts written in the shabby rooms I rented in Bangalore. Not only are the surroundings neater and cleaner, there is no nicotine to lay my hands on. It’s 7 ‘O’ clock, not midnight and I sit across my mother as I write, not my roomie, taking care to play music that would not shock mom out of her wits. Hmm…home feels good..but back to the post.

The post New Girl in the City-1 was written out of vengeance- a “Look I made it by myself” kinda post, an attempt to console myself. It was a war cry against the loneliness that almost sucked the sanity out of me- the kind of loneliness that makes u feel as if you are alone in a room full of people. No wonder it seems so preachy when I read it now. I was trying to prove that I survived- to the people who had sidelined me. The bitterness is all but gone!

I write this post not out of vengeance, not out of bitterness, not to prove anything. I write it to tell myself it’s ok to let go. After 3 years of living in a strange city which I could not comprehend, life remains as mysterious as ever, but I have learnt to accept it’s myriad hues, to take life as it comes, to trust myself more than ever and most importantly to enjoy my own company.

Just like it’s important to love oneself to love others, I feel it’s very important to enjoy one’s own company to enjoy the company of others. Then not only are you happier in your own mind but you radiate happiness too. There I go all preachy again .

Life! my dear Watson, as Holmes would have said it.

The new girl in the city has learnt from life a miniscule amount of gyaan atleast. :p (allow me the writer’s freedom in stripping the sentence of it’s grammar).

P.S: Is it weird to watch a movie alone?

She did not stop short of selling off vessels, any articles of value or pawning jewels to give education to her youngest child. Even when her older children, some of them fully grown men by then frowned at her for wasting good money in educating this girl child, she stuck to her single minded mission.

Why the preference to this one child? Well she was the youngest and dearest to grandma’s heart and also the only one who had shown a keen interest in studies. While her siblings were content with going to school for the sake of it, this child desired to study and excel and grandma made it her mission to see that it happened.

Years went by and 6 of grandmas 8 children had moved away; the guys with their wives and children and the girls to their husbands houses. The youngest child had finished college and had started working in a tutorial as a tutor while pursuing a Masters course. The household situation had slightly improved with many sons and the daughter earning.

Grandma’s favourite child meanwhile became a lecturer in a college. Grandma had fulfilled her dream; got this child married, got the youngest of her grandkids.

Grandma left us for good one day, on one of these youngest grandchildren’s 17^th birthday. There was nothing anybody could do about it but it left her youngest child and the unlucky grandchild heartbroken.

Not that the unlucky grandchild showed or expressed it. In fact this grandchild came under flak for having no emotions, in spite of being grandma’s favourite grandchild. Grandma’s youngest child chided her daughter, the unlucky grandchild for having been ungrateful for everything grandma had done for her and her mother. The sorrow and the resultant frustration had found a target!

But as the unlucky grandchild writes this blog today she has nothing but sorrow weighing her down. Every birthday is her secret mourning day; mourning for her dearest Abba. This day for no reason she has been overtaken by memories of Abba and the warmth associated with that word.

I dedicate this blog to my Abba and her memory.

I derive immense pleasure in chopping my tresses and denuding my kopfe of its glory. First I plastered an ugly brown colour on my hair in the name of streaking and bleached it of its natural colour permanently. Now I have gone one step ahead and bobbitized my lovely curls.

Sure it is a makeover according to my stylist and a few others and yes it looks different (a politer version of weird) but I am left pining for my mane. Gone is the delightful weight of the head, the fuzzy warmth against my neck and the adaa I could throw with a flip of my hair. Sigh and it cost me money too!

Now I do not say there aren’t any advantages of short cropped hair. For one there is definitely a chance of a summer without having to punish one’s hair in ponies and knots to stay alive. Then there is the remote possibility of looking younger than you are ;and if you ask me the latter is reason enough. ;P

Well after all the repenting will I stop short of yet another suicidal haircut? No. Never. After all it is the risks that make life worth living a’int it?!

Now I am not a superstitious person and I am also not a total non-believer in the mystical powers of nature. Some of the disasters that have taken place in the world in the past decade or so, the latest being the 2004 Tsunami and the recent Japan quake, being testimonial enough to what mother nature is capable of doing to punish her wayward kids.

But I could not help being amused by this “something wrong with the moon” theory. It is surprising how the suspense related to the apocalypse will interest even the un-initiated, set tongues wagging and the gossip mills running. So that is how I spent a good one hour this evening explaining to my roomie the significance of the #Supermoon, 2012 and the ancient Mayans and Nostradamus.

At the end of it, this lecturing session has left me wondering whether there will actually be some disasters related to the supermoon. Other than some tidal waves will there be any untoward calamities?! Well the tidal waves are scary enough especially as I have my native home in a coastal town and my family lives there, with the sea being just a couple of kilometres away. But will the romantic moon turn into a destroyer?! I do not think so. Well but I am no Nostradamus. I can just hope…especially as I want to be celebrating Holi on the 19^th!

2.      I have the power to turn heads wherever I go however ugly I look. Because till there are men in this world there will be straying eyeballs.

3.      Life is all about variety and I have variety at my fingertips. Whether it is dress or makeup or accessories, there is always variety. If I wear a salwar kameez one day, I can wear a skirt the next day, followed by a trouser on the third day; a LBD for an evening, a mini for a night out, a sari for a wedding and shorts to the beach.

4.      I have infringed on the boys’ right to wear pants but they haven’t as yet dared to wear a skirt (both connotative and denotative puns intended).

5.      I can get away with mischief. Even when I and my gang of gals broke the classroom window the Principal never for one second suspected us but took to task the poor unsuspecting cricket loving guys near the building. The devil wears Prada you see.

6.      Where there is a cleavage there is a way.

7.      I am born to multitask. As a kid I multitasked with dolls, brother’s cricket and imitating mom coo baby sister to sleep ; today I multitask with a job, friends, shopping, pardeeing and boyfriends; tomorrow I will multitask with a career, housework, husband, kids and hobbies. A thing guys rarely do.

8.      Bored with the long train journey or the wait at the airport and some men in sight? All I have to do is swish my hips, flip my hair and pout and lo I am entertained by the buffoons.

9.      Who has said a smile can’t move mountains?! Leave it to us gals. If we ever find Atlas, we will get him to do that too. If we can move ahead in supermarket queues and get unknown men to carry our groceries with just a smile we can do the mountain part too.

10.   I can wear any colour, sport any hairstyle, do my makeup and accessorize fearlessly without the danger of being tagged with a funny word such as “metrosexual” or being called a peacock! Looking good is my right.

11.  I can always go up to men in a bus, sitting in the so called “ladies seats” and pull them out, but they cannot do the same to me even if I am sitting in the non-ladies seat which must be the “men’s seat”.

12.  I or rather we galz are the rightful owners of chocolates and all things chocolaty in this world. God created chocolate to soothe the female taste bud.

13.  I can dare cuddle a teddy bear or coo a kitten without being called retarded!

14.  I can afford to cry in public without being called a weakling. Letting out the pent up feelings and stress with no fear of reprisal is a boon to enjoy, a boon which guys lose as they grow up from boys to men.

15.  When god created the earth, he threw in a goody for all us girls in the form of a precious element called gold. Gold is a woman’s toy.

16.  I being a girl have the power to melt the toughest and the strongest willed men and give them goose bumps and sleepless nights.

17.  I will always be daddy’s li’l princess at no matter what age.

18.  I will one day go through a ceremony called a marriage, orchestrated to show me off, my clothes and jewels in countless videos and photographs with my husband playing prop. Sigh I don’t exactly like the idea!

19.  I can live through countless hormone changes, blink back my tears and still manage to smile to make my loved ones happy.

20.  I am the epitome of care, affection and sacrifice: a woman