42- but 39. Uff. Whatever.
Disclaimer- This post and the author of it bear no ill feeling to Malinga. He is a great player, and I’m sure must have a wonderful personality.
I don’t know why all of you insisted you wanted to read this. You’re not missing much- just the extreme superficiality and shallowness of yours truly.
Oh well. As if that’s coming as a surprise.
Here you go. I’ve edited it a bit. Thought I should confess beforehand so that Anas doesn’t say “this isn’t what i have on my google reader!”
My nails- (sigh), ok, let me start again. The cuticle type thingies that still somehow remain on the top of my fingers are at their ultimate low. Yesterday two of them started bleeding. I tried growing them, and failed. How’s that for staying true to yourself?
I’ve been hearing a lot from my family for starting work (haw!) a month before my wedding. It seems I should stay at home and fix my complexion because…ok, I can’t think of any reason. Firstly, I think dark-skinned people are gorgeous, so if they give me vague instructions like fixing my complexion the first thing I’ll do is buy suntan lotion.
Secondly, S. isn’t the chitta kukkar everybody’s always singing about at dholkis (he’s more the sanwla salona sort- yeay! 😀 ) and the last thing I want is for him to feel all insecure on the stage at our wedding. It’s sweet enough that he agreed to wear a sherwani; I don’t want to ruin his night completely with the absurd, highly obnoxious aunties of my family saying things like “yeh tau raat aur chand ki jori he!” I kid you not, they will not only have the audacity to state this or some other senseless analogy to the guy’s mother (purely by accident since I doubt they’ll actually know who the two people on stage are), they’ll be loud enough for the various other aunties to hear and nod their heads as well.
It seems Mahw isn’t the only person around surrounded by inane, obnoxious aunties.
Why are they in such great supply considering there’s practically no demand for them?
Plus, what difference does it make? I’ll be so caked in make up, it won’t matter whether I even have skin or not. Much less kaali or gori.
When I agreed to marry S. I had never seen him before and he had never seen me. And anybody who knows me will understand that the mental picture I had constructed of my future husband was little better than Quasimodo in a suit and tie. S, Shukar Alhumdullillah, turned out to be extremely cute- completely contrary to my expectations. I am not an idealist, or romantic, or ecstasy sniffing hippie chick- If my parents thought some guy was worth me, I’d accept him. As long as he showers daily and wears deodorant, he could look like Malinga and I’d still love him (Ok, maybe that was a bit of a stretch); and I believe I deserve that same generosity in return(luckily, I don’t look like Malinga either, though I wonder how S. would react if I did).
Something tells me that underneath all that dirt, lotion and hair color is a semi-human being.
Not that I expect such big-heartedness. Men have this strange habit of pointing out flaws in your appearance while looking like crap themselves. And women have a strange tendency of letting them. Another example of that self-hatred all these feminist writers talk about. During university, one of my friends pointed out I needed to wax my arms (sure, asshole. I’ll go when I’m finally done with my projects- at around 3 in the morning), without noticing he needed to pull up his jeans, cut and wash his hair, get acne treatment, and buy new clothes.
Gentlemen of the audience- it’s called a mirror. Use it.
And this, is a comb.
So anyway, when I point out that my fiancé is a little on the Shrek side of the Prince Charming scale my nani always says the same thing
“Kamaney wale mard ki shakal kaun dekhta he?”
Now at least I can reply “Tau phir kamaney wali larki ki shakal ke peeche kyun parr gaee hain?”
And THAT is why I’m working a month before my wedding :D.