Stuff. And things.
Person I do not want to become:
1) The sort that has nothing to talk about other than her mangni and fiancé
2) The sort that has nothing to talk about other than her thesis and how she’s not working on it.
3) The sort that has nothing to talk about. Period.
I think I’m becoming all three. Though they’re all contradictory.
So I’ve decided today to focus on none of the above. I have other things going on in my life, I’m sure. It’s not humanly possible to have such a one dimensional mind, is it?
Ok, I’m adding another type of person I don’t want to be: the sort that has nothing to talk about other than how she’s gaining weight even when she breathes.
Ooh…I just saw this guy touch his girlfriend’s waist! Gasp! Shock! Taubah taubah!
And THAT is the fifth type of person I never want to be.
I’ve learned much about men since I joined university. They’ve evolved from the streetwise Darcys’ and Ferris’s I and S. used to dream of, and now gradually we’ve come to accept that they are in fact, as horribly flesh and blood as we are. They gossip, like us. They bitch about each other, as do we; their feelings get wounded as easily as ours do; they watch where their rupees are going, unlike our previous belief that men care not about worldly things like money (we were in DHA College for Women- so sue us) and status; and they are as knight in shining Corvette as we are visions of loveliness in dire distress.
Now we’ve begun to realize that guys actually are a lot like girls.
Except when they’re in a horde.
I’ve never seen women in a mob- other than during a sale and even then they act individually. Women hate each other too much to form a mob of any sort. Men on the other hand have a collective soul and when more than five of them get together you realize how ugly that collective soul is. They forget who they’re targeting, they lose all sense of perspective, and all that remains for them is the intense enjoyment that they gain inflicting pain, with the relief that the person they’re inflicting it on is usually too weak to strike back. An individual man might show intense courage but a man in a mob is the biggest coward there is.
Two days ago the boys in my point targeted a first year girl with such disgusting perseverance that I doubt she’ll return to the bus again. Catcalls, whistles, loud perverted jokes; they forgot that the victim of their joint pseudo-comedy routine was a new girl who had no friends on this bus and who (being in first year) could not really say anything back to them.
Thing is, not one of them would have the guts to talk to this girl face to face.
I know. I’ve been on the receiving end. And I assure you, all the apologies in the world, on bended knees, will not get a girl to forgive, much less forget, a single second of humiliation by someone else’ hand.
And that’s why I’m pretty sure that one day they’ll realize what assholes they’ve been. When their daughters come home crying, maybe…When their sons refuse to go to school because of bullies…
Sucks that what goes around comes around on children.