Strange creatures, women. We take our photographs all the time.
We turn and twist. And ask for simple life.
We remember.
Every single thing.
Every text. Every smiley. Each word.
Every date.
We fret. At color of our stockings.
The unruly strand in the picture. Everything.
We pout and put our hair on a side.
We edit the pictures.
We remove that tan, lighten the dark circle, blur that pimple.
We + the contrast and increase the brightness.
So that our skin looks smoother and fairer.
We stick to black and white effect for a double-chin picture.
And then we say looks don't matter to us.
We save things like that tissue paper with a signature of that person.
Because there is a memory attached to it. And then we crib how we just can't let go of our past.We want to be more masculine.
We stick to bermuda and daddy's shorts.
Because its the only comfy outwear in the world.
And then when we look manly in our pics,
"Oh God! I look like a hulk"
Strange creatures, women.
We want to dance in the rain.
Like Kareena in Jab We Met. Or Madhuri.
But we run into bus-stops and shops every time because it ruins our hair.
We wish a Deepika figure.
But we still order the extra cheese.
We over-think. And imagine.
Adrita. At Sandesh's green room. 2013ish.
We dream.
We can't decide what do cook for dinner.
But we call ourselves decision-makers.
We love sale.
We block people from Facebook and Whatsapp after a fight.
And unblock.
We stalk.
Beautiful people. Ugly people. Friends. Friend's friends.
And forget.
We love business women. And artists.
We wonder how one day we'll wear heels and run a big company.
But we are afraid it won't bring us joy.
But never discuss.
We imagine a scene to a song.
With everyone pouring their attention on us.
Strange creatures, women.
