I'm a fucking masterpiece

“Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. 

I have already heard the word rubbed raw across the flesh of so many girls before me. Thrown at them like rocks that beat the skin of those we do not understand. “You are beautiful,” we yell with such contempt. “God dammit, why won’t you just believe me, you’re beautiful!” It is not a compliment. It is a victory march of your own self sacrifice. “You’re beautiful,” we say through gritted teeth. “You’re beautiful,” we spit out through tears, looking at a reflection we hate. “You’re beautiful,” we say, holding a body that has never felt the arms of another. 

“You’re beautiful.” 

Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. 

A word like that floats on the surface, give me something with depth. Tell me I’m intelligent. Tell me I’m courageous. Tell me that when I laugh the whole world smiles. Tell me that my voice is sweeter than strawberries. Remind me that my hands have helped flowers grow, painted the ocean, and captured the sky in my phone. Assure me that with a mind like mine, I can change the world. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I don’t really care if it’s true. I’ve spent years trying to convince myself that beauty goes through and through. Don’t tell me I’m beautiful. I’ve felt the word splatter against me enough for a lifetime. I am better than the “beautiful” that slips from your lips. 

I am the ocean, 36,000 feet deep. There are parts of me you have never seen. I am outer space, infinite in your search. I am not simply “beautiful.” 

I’m a fucking masterpiece.

—unknown  

Prince Charming

From my many drafts from many moons ago

I wish it were simple. Relationships I mean. Why can't you find the perfect person on the first try and live happily ever after? Why do you have to kiss all the frogs before you meet Prince Charming?

I'm tired of the frogs. I'm weary and I want to give up and sit at home and stop "putting myself out there" so I may bump into him. I want to know that he will find me in some chance meeting while i'm grocery shopping or hailing a three wheeler or walking on the road. I don't want to figure out (yet again) what I should wear and agonize about the state of my skin.

Jonathan

This is just about him.

I wrote a couple months back about how an 'arranged' marriage was the only form of relationship I was ever considering. No boyfriends, no dalliances. A husband was all I wanted. 

It was a few weeks into my new job with a splattering of failed relationships and crushes, that were never to amount to anything. I was in an anti-relationship phase.

Today, I sing a different tune.

Webchutney came with its pros and cons. I love my job. It's a 100% more stressful than Ogilvy but it doesn't feel like work. My hours are long and because it's the digital medium it's almost as if I'm working everyday, weekends included. Everything needs to be done quickly because everything changes quickly. What is relevant the last minute may not be the next. I love every minute of it. I've also made friends. Life is good. My only complaint being the disproportionate amount of money I get paid for the amount of work I put in. But then isn't that what everyone complains about?!

Back to Jonathan. 

He is the Business Director here. When I first saw him, my 3rd day of work, he was briefing a whole bunch of us and while doing that he was crushing and rolling his joint. First impressions: Drug addict. Intelligent man. Hot voice. End of story. 

I always knew from the first time we spoke that he had a thing. I was clear that I didn't. He was persuaive, I thought creepy. He had a girlfriend back in Mumbai. A girlfriend of 3 years he loved and intended on marrying. His Facebook page if nothing else was testimony to that. I was done with unavailable men. Clearly this falling into that category. Dead end. I put it out of my head, treating it as a situation in which a person over a long distance relationship was crushing on someone he thought attractive. Natural. Not my problem.

Except, eventually the texting began. A couple a day. Work related. Then personal. Moved to through the day then through the night. Then the phone conversations started. 15 mins. 45 mins. An hour. 3 hours. Sunrise. At some point I knew I should say no. That I shouldn't encourage it but it rolled on till we went for dinner and then dinner and a movie and I knew he was having problems with the girlfriend. I also already knew that if I kept at this any longer I would be the one crying. It panned out. He broke up. We broke in.

He's here. My boyfriend. My roommate. It's been almost a year. I'm building castles in the air. The future seems like it may not be so bleak after all. Every once in awhile I slow down. Catch a breath. Reign it in. Let's not get carried way. The winds can still change. This is yet to be my happily ever after.

'Arranged' marriage

I'm 25, independent, happy, not-unattractive and I'm going to have an arranged marriage.
 
That is the truth.

I don't trust my judgment in men and I have almost a decade worth of proof to show for it. I don't know what type of person I want to end up with and how rich he should be or how 'family-oriented'. I may have figured out my savings and bills and taxes but in this case I'm still as confused as I was at 15. So maybe this isn't a bad thing.  

But here's the thing. It scares the hell out of me. The concept in itself is warped. I'm sent a picture and a personal CV as opposed to a professional one. On paper, he sounds perfect. So my parents call his parents and set up a meeting. We meet, we talk and that's it. Technically, he can 'court' me for a year, but, who are we kidding? If we've exchanged numbers and have had so much as one phone conversation its taken for granted that this is a done thing. After a couple of phone conversations and god forbid any one-to-one interaction, I turn the guy down, the many 'proposals' that were coming my way dwindle to almost nothing. And those sad few remaining are nowhere close to perfect even on paper. So what does a girl do? Say yes to marrying a complete stranger to fulfill expectations? Settle? Learn to 'love' a person you don't know and can't un-know when you realize you don't love them. Its a 'between the Devil and the deep sea' choice.
 
It's quite frankly a lottery or a gamble of any other kind. You could ofcourse 'fall in love' with this person eventually or just learn to live with him. He could be a wife beater, drug addict, alcoholic or even have a girlfriend hidden away. The society I live in still frowns at divorce. Faced with any of the above situations I'll probably be asked to work at it or even more plausibly be accused of not meeting his standards or doing things wrong for him to behave like this.
 
So, what does a girl do? Do I succumb to parental pressure and try it out? You never know, my Prince Charming is probably the one whose CV I just got forwarded. Or am I taking this step and closing the doors on the possibility that down the line I may have found the absolutely perfect person for me. My gut-wrenching, overwhelming, sun-kissed, heart-skipping, story-for-the-ages romance. But hey, I'm married and saddled with 2 kids and I can't possibly leave the man I settled for when quite obviously the man that makes me completely, blissfully, painfully happy is standing right across the road.
 
And here I thought, getting an education and a job and a house and doing decently well in all those aspects was the end of the line, stress wise. It's the only topic that ever makes me think 'I wish I wasn't born in India'. How is it that my folks forget that everywhere else people manage to find men on their own? That at 25, I still have a couple of good years ahead of me. That I am not over-the-hill and desperately in need of a husband.  

I hate you.

I hate you for hurting me, for laughing when I cry, for treating me like a prostitute, for making me feel invisible and insignificant.

I hate you for never picking up my calls and never letting me finish a single sentence when you do, for being the only person who makes me happy and being the only person who won't.

I hate you because I love you, inspite and despite all of these things, because it's proof that I am weak and stupid and dependant when I spend everyday trying to be the opposite.

I hate that you treat me like I dnt feel anything when I feel everything, even the pains and burdens that aren't mine. I hate that I can have anyone I want but I only ever want you.

I hate that you are never around anymore but more importantly I hate that you don't want to be here. I hate that i'm not important to you, that after 5 years you can still tell me that you regret knowing me at all.

I hate that you are hurtful and callous, that you dream easily when you sleep while I lie awake crying, that you think saying sorry will make me forget everything you ever said.

I hate that I forgive you, I hate that I can't forget. But most of all I hate you for making me hate me.