What I wished for

I finally turned 29 and started on my 30th year…Once upon a time, a long time ago…..when I was 21 I was dying to get older.

I imagined great looks, great clothes, fancy car, great job, Men falling all over themselves at my doorstep, wooing me with flowers, chocolates and song.
Sigh I watched and read one too many romantic movie and book. …how wrong I was.

Great looks hah……You look great at 21 after that it’s just down hill. Well I’ve learnt the art of hiding my wrinkles and grey hair…and sagging skin…transparent glue helps hold it up… trust me it works.

Great clothes…..hah only in books darling…..otherwise it leaves a dent in your savings….its sad. So my advice dress simple…accessorize great….but please invest in great shoes….oh they are the soles of your attire. And besides great shoes speak volumes and add attitude.

Fancy car…..I’m still begging my dad to fund me one…..sheesh he insists I work and earn one….oh the sad life of the working class.

Great job…well I can’t complain….after 7 yrs ….I finally realized what I want to do in Jan 2008. I guess better late than never.

As for men hounding at my doorstep….Lol lets say the people visiting my doorstep have been my maid, the grocery man, and the frequent lost visitors of my neighbors. So my assumption is all these men I dreamt about when I was younger are actually existent in fairy tales and books and movies….sigh.

I'm Done

God I’m so done.
I’m done with being wooed, pursued and then being dropped like a hot potato.
I’m done and tired of being compared and chosen over younger women with smaller waistlines, firmer breasts and tighter butts (well also better looking faces).
I’m done with being teased into believing that there is a future and then there is a sudden change of mind and will in the opposite and I suddenly find myself left clueless on what just happened.(while I see you walk away hand in hand with your new found love)
I’m done and am sick and tired of selfish, self centered, male chauvinistic pigs.
I’m through with indecisive fools who don’t know whether they want in or out.
I’m tired of hoping for a better possibility or there being a future at all.
I’m sick of girlfriends who seem to be honing in on your man constantly and walking in on them in compromising positions.
I’m sick and tired of people constantly saying ‘You are 29???What’s wrong with you? Why are you single? (How the heck….am I supposed to know?)
I’m tired of explaining to people I’ve not found someone I like.
I’m done with men who don’t have balls…..in my opinion if you don’t have it then don’t even bother.
I’m done with being dumped, stood up and hurt all the time.
I’m so tired, so mad, so furious and so done with you that I want to scream without ceasing at the top of my lungs.
And to all of you who are reading this, especially all the men from my past because I know you are…..well you can stuff it.
And to all well wishers, friends, family and critics who want to comment…..stuff it.
Because, I really don’t care about what you think.
I’m writing this because I’m fuming and I want to state my mind and don’t you dare cross my line.

False Celebrity Status

Well...its nothing much...but its something for me.....I feel happy that maybe, I've achieved something.....not the Pulitzer or the Nobel prize or a lifetime achievement award......but something that would make my folks smile in pride.....I just realized that all of us at different stages of our lives are always trying to prove ourselves..... To be accepted, to be appreciated and above all trying to achieve some sense of self worth.
This time, I’m happy..... I did not do something, because somebody asked me to or because I was blackmailed into it. I did something where I made a choice on my own, and am reaping good fruits from it. I'm so happy I decided to pat myself on the shoulder, flash a grin into the mirror and say.....Hey Celebrity, you are doing just fine.

IF

If, can change lives for people.
If things were better rather than worse
we'd have lesser divorves.
If health were easier got than illness,
we'd have lesser deaths.
If food were in abundance,
we'd have lesser starvation.
If money grew on trees,
we'd have lesser poverty.
If there were more love on Earth,
we'd have lesser hate.
If there were more good,
We'd have lesser evil.
If there were more of you,
We'd have less of me.

Do I Dare Dream

(I wrote this in a fit of rage when Dad pissed me off about marriage)

Dare I write something to scandalize.
If I did ….it would be none too wise.
The Americans and British lost their weaker gender.
You’d be sued to millions if you refer to them sexes as tender.
Aha! Feminism. A power word in the west.
Of late the women from the East join the quest.

I wonder could I talk so free?
A feminist, would that be me?

But no I don’t want to be. Not me. No way.
Feminism, a tangle, a maze, a web today.
There was once a time when the battle for us women was a sheer necessity
When ignorance, illiteracy and stubbornness had to be battled with ferocity.
Sweep n mop, make n bake, kiss n sex, baby n child, and fix n stitch.
But to read n think, discover n travel, Ah, then she becomes a Jezebel, a witch.
This body ….is not for sex alone. Nor just for making child.
This body ….respect it, honor it, cherish it a matter no longer mild.

Centuries and decades she fought hard and long.
Torn and bleeding she still sings the old song.
Finally she stands. Young and brave, her youth marred with wise old eyes.
She stands tall refusing to stoop over, she the conqueror now so wise.
And now again…. I stand….. No my friend not a rebel …..Not I.
Just a dreamer, I dare to dream and the sun shines brighter in my sky.

The aggravating, annoying, infuriating quality of this Man.

I am so furious I could possible beat this person up. God he infuriates me with his Country attitudes, rude obnoxious and freakin' condescending nature.

What in the blooming blazes does the nincompoop think about himself?
That just because he’s got male genital organs, he is more of a man.
Ha ha ha …how far from the truth.
I’ve not met a man who is more inadequate and more insecure about his job than he is.
Ever since I stepped in to my work I’ve had one obstacle after the other particularly with this ...this...this...this....Male thing ......that I just refuse to address by name.
Simply because he does not deserve it. I’d rather call him .........his royal slimyness.

Can you believe it he has a problem only, with me. ......Why?
Because I speak better English than he does?
Or because I complete my sentences without stammering and spluttering all over the place?
Or because I don’t have to be Einstein to figure out human sensitivity?
So I figure people out better and they like me better?
Well guess what dirt eater( changed his name again) you either have it or you don’t.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
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GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH
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HHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Screaming at the top of my lungs really felt Good?
Breathe in
breathe out.....breathe in ....breath out....


Stillness


Calm


So ................here’s what I’ve to tell you, you worthless man.
All your juvenile attempts at upsetting me or throwing me off my course ....is in vain.

Cause at the end of the day I know...... I’m a hundred times better than you are and thats what gets you plotting and planning to aggravate me.

So I know the day we are at peace I must have fallen to your level of slime.
So until then keep up your good job of annoying me because then I know I’m doing it right.

Signing off the best darn thing that happened to mankind
Sapna

The Dancing Cook

Ada the grey haired little cook marched into her kitchen. She slammed the door behind her to keep out the screaming icy wind. At once she felt the warmth seep into her bones. The fire kept warm the large cauldron of her magical broth. Her eyes shone and her cheeks dimpled when the kettle welcomed her with a soft whistle.
She hustled over to the other room grabbing a cool pan from the army of pots and pans that served her. They caught flashes of light on their shiny bodies.
The moment she placed the pan over the fire she started a secret dance chuckling as she remembered the stories of yester years. She threw an assortment of spices into the pan. The flame leapt high and caste a shadowy dance on the ceiling as the curry bubbled and burst in the pan. She dabbed in a ladle into her spicy mix. The aroma wafted around her little nose. She sniffed and then dipped the spoon into her mouth and savored the hot salty taste. Then as suddenly as she had started her dance, there was stillness.