what to do with a beautiful face?

I chanced upon the following report on the net: A producer and reporter for a Seattle radio station, Dan, never thought of himself as attractive. When his marriage failed eight years ago, Dan’s self-esteem plunged. After years of shunning love, he fell for Ann, a new co-worker. But for Ann the feeling wasn’t mutual. Dan decided to go for a makeover. He had a chin implant, facial reshaping and liposuction on his face, chest, back and love handles done. To complete his look, Dan received a hair weave, dental veneers, teeth whitening, LASIK surgery and a hot new wardrobe! “Inside me, I am going to be more confident. This is going to make me more attractive person to everyone!”

Imagine, a man going through all those operations, braving the pain, the bedpan and that utterly horrendous hospital gown, and the shock of looking in the mirror and finding a new face staring back at him –all for a woman! At 18 I might have thought, “Dan is cho-chweet and romantic.” But now, I am thinking, “Hugh, what’s with that man, he needs a brain implant.”

As you grow older you begin to see beauty in unconventional forms. You like a man, not for his looks, but because there is “something more” to him. You like him because he knows how to treat you; how to make you feel like you are the most wonderful person on this earth (you know and he knows that it is not true, but who cares); you like him because the extra few pounds you carry around your waist doesn't bother him, he actually likes it! You like him because he doesn't scream and thump his chest to establish his authority; he is not a walking talking advertisement for self; you like him because he is oh, so confident and comfortable in his own skin.

When a man is confident in his own skin, oh boy, does he have a surefire winner in his hands or what? Otherwise how would you explain the phenomenal sources of an actor like Mohanlal . He’s been a successful star for more than 25 years –with the same face and same body (which has now expanded so much you might have to address it in the plural form). Lets be honest. Mohanlal is not what you would call handsome. If he had to follow in the footsteps of Dan, he would have had to have liposuction done all over him –beginning with his cheeks. But then he wouldn’t be Mohanlal and I wouldn’t be his greatest fan. For more than two decades he has been collecting fans like grains of sand on the beach, with his phenomenal talent. He is so comfortable in his own skin that you see nothing but the beauty in the man. That is the power of being your own self and liking it.

I believe firmly that the world’s greatest charmers are all men and women not with beautiful faces and bodies but an attractive spirit that radiates confidence. Growing up is difficult, especially when you don’t have the perfect nose, eyes, body and height. I remember reading somewhere that bald men and short men were considered to be the sexiest and charming men in the world. My very bald and short friend offered to explain the phenomenon: “Once you accept that you are bald and short and that you cannot reverse the situation, unless you want to go through hair weaving and look like Salman khan in a horror movie, things become easy. Then you project your bald head and lack of height as an asset. In other words, you project your imperfections with confidence till it turns out to be your signature style. Also, when you realize that you cannot attract girls with a head full of your own hair, you begin to look for other avenues –you learn to attract with your conversation sills, you learn to treat women well and respect them. You learn to treat them like a princess, the way they deserve to be treated. Before you know the women begin to see you for what you are and not just a hairless and short man.”

We just need to accept who we are and work on it to become what we want to be. It’s a lot simpler and easier to be just you. And moreover, at the end of the day what am I to do with a beautiful looking man. After some time it gets boring. But on the other hand, if I have a man who makes me feel like a princess…ah, now that’s another thing altogether!

Truths of my DNA

Truth hits you at your solar plexus at the most unexpected moments in life. It happened to me at 1.30 am this morning. I am still a little woozy in the head as a result of it. I guess you can call it the truth-hangover. A friend challenged (yes, at that ungodly hour!) the DNA of my mind; my individuality and my identity. “Who are you?” my friend asked, in a 1.30 am bed-voice, yet lucid and unambiguous. “Where do your beliefs or values come from? Are they a product of your intelligence, your thinking, and your way of life? Did you decide to believe in certain values after questioning its veracity? Or are your beliefs a residue of hand-me-down beliefs and values of your parents, your religion, your church, your friends and your environment?” And the first thing that came to my mind was: I am not debate-fit at 1.30 am in the morning and I am at my vulnerable best.

My friend has a simple philosophy of what is good and bad in life. “If something makes you happy, gives you joy and doesn’t hurt another person, then it is good. The rest are bad.” And another favorite: “We all have limited time on earth. Go with the flow of life. Don’t put off things for tomorrow, because you might miss your chance and you might regret it later in life.”

But, I am a lot more complicated than my friend. I start off well, uncomplicated and simple. Then the simplicity ends. I would begin to question the thought and soon it would be deluged with layers of doubts. And soon I am lost in a maze of confusion. Then I plough my way through it to see light at the end of the tunnel. But in the process I drive people crazy, especially friends.

For example, I might think there is nothing wrong in two people having a physical relationship if they are attracted to each other and if they are unattached to other people and if they are adults and if they are fully aware of the consequences of their actions. But, that’s where the simplicity ends. Then I would deluge the whole thinking with layers of doubts –is it right for two people to get together simply because they have great chemistry? Doesn’t it seem shallow? What would society think, parents think and the rest of the worlds think of a woman who does something like that? What is the difference between her and a hooker? At least, the latter is doing it for a livelihood? Above all would Jesus approve of it? (Yeah, Mr. is always there at the back of my mind putting a spoke in all my wheels, especially if it’s something to do with you know what) Would it be right? Would it be ethical?

Then my liberated, educated self would kick-in and stir the pot some more: What is wrong in two people enjoying themselves? Why should there be a foundation of relationship to every union? A woman is entitled to her body and it is her business alone what she does with it. The world can go hang? Why shouldn’t she do what she wants to do? So you see, just a few seconds of thinking gives rise to so many questions. And I am like a dog with a bone when I get to chew on something like this. So, you can only imagine how complicated I can get my life to be….

My friend, I think, has more or less given up on me. I think my friend thinks that I am a lost case. I heard it in the exasperation of the voice last night. I know exasperation from static over telephone lines, believe me!

Coming back to the truth that stung me this morning…..It set me asking few questions of myself. And I think I might have begun as a product of hand-me down values, but at the same time I am also someone who is constantly trying to make sense of these values to decide what I should retain as my legacy and what I should discard to pave way for my own believes. And now, that is a life-long progression. I read something this morning which explains my situation aptly:

Psychologists call the unease you feel when you hold two conflicting opinions cognitive dissonance. The theory is that you will be unwilling to simultaneously hold two apparently contradictory beliefs in your mind and will attempt to modify one or the other to minimize the dissonance or conflict.

Imagine what would happen with instances of more deep-seated beliefs. Not only do you have the dissonance associated with trying to hold two contradictory beliefs in your mind simultaneously, but, even worse, if you accept the new idea that might mean the first tone was wrong and you’ve lost your invested credibility!

Most people don’t like being wrong, so they would either ignore the new idea or even worse, come up with all sorts of counter arguments as to why it’s wrong. To an independent observer, this appears totally irrational.

My friends say that I break my pattern of thinking so often that it confuses people. My pattern breaks so often, because of a simple truth in life: We keep changing on a daily basis. And that change is a result of our experiences in life. As humans, we are after the truth. So we are constantly looking for whether the second idea is better than the first. And if the second idea is more accurate, serves us better, or is otherwise superior to the first one that we believe in, then we accept it or at least a better idea comes along.

And that is the reason my pattern keeps changing every so often. Not because I am fickle. It is because I believe I am `ME’ and I can never be a product of someone’s values and beliefs. And I am constantly evolving. If not, I will die.

Changing your mind after gathering more complete information and thoroughly thinking things through is a sign of being logical, thorough, thoughtful and wise –or at least I would like to think so. And that is how you find your DNA. It is a process. Sometimes it takes a few minutes and sometimes it takes a life time. You cannot rush it. It has to happen organically. In the bargain, friends might lose patience with you and might move on to other friendships. If that happens, it would be sad. But you will live. You will learn to enjoy and cherish the moments you had with them and then let them go. But you cannot compromise. You can only hope and pray that people who come into your life and the people, who are already there, will have the patience to let you discover your own truth.

I have made peace with myself. Last night I was disturbed. But now, I know for sure that I am not fickle, I am not a serial pattern-breaker, and I am just someone who is taking time to discover the DNA of her mind and soul, at my own pace. Yeah, I regret hurting or confusing friends in the bargain, but I cannot do it any other way!

How I met Krishna...the rags-to-riches-bookseller

Whenever I visit MG Road I make it a point to go to The Bookworm –a little bookshop tucked away in Shrungar Shopping Complex on MG. The store is owned by a young, soft-spoken man called Krishna.

I met Krishna two years ago and what a meeting it was! I chanced upon his then newly opened bookshop and entered it to indulge in some heavy-duty browsing. I have a fascination for old books and The Bookworm advertised itself as a `Treasure house for used books’. So there I was amidst tall rows of fiction, non-fiction, classics, biographies and self-help books. I saw a young man standing queitly in a corner of the shop. I felt a I-know-him-from-somewhere-kind-of- feeling. We see some people almost everyday in our lives the lift operators, janitors, office boys, the bus driver and the girl at the food world counter, yet we don’t know their names or dreams or where they come from. We don’t even acknowledge their existence sometimes. I apparently saw the young man almost everyday for three years because he used to sell books on the footpath next to my office. But I never gave much importance to that countenance. To me it belonged to a footpath-bookseller. How unconsciously prejudiced we can be? Some days I would stop by to browse through or buy some books that he usually spread out on a plastic cover on the footpath. At times, he would scramble to cover the books with a plastic sheet even as rain threatened to spoil his livelihood for the day. On a few occasions I have even witnessed the police harassing him. But I never paid much attention to him -the person! I always found him to be quite but intense –he was never pushy like other vendors and never aloof either. He definitely didn’t have an MBA but he knew how to treat his customers well for they kept coming back for more. And this young man was the owner of `The Bookworm'.

From the footpath to a cozy little book shop in an upscale address? How did that happen? Now I was curious. After all those years. I asked him, what’s your name? “Krishna,” he beamed.

Krishna came from a poor family in a village in Mysore. When he finished school he came to Bangalore looking for better prospects. He worked for another footpath bookseller in the mornings and pursued a degree in an evening college. He always had a passion for reading. However, he never read English books because his command over the language was poor, almost nil. He studied in Kannada medium. He knew the English alphabets and could read some words, but that was about it.

One day, Krishna decided to read `Papillion’. (Check the link for more info on the book) “This book was famous with the customers and I noticed many of them recommending it to their friends,” he recollects. His interest piqued, he picked up the book. It took him three months to finish the book, which he read with the help of a dictionary. After that, there was no stopping him, How to kill a mocking bird, Catcher in the Rye, Alchemist he devoured them all. The last two are his favorites. “I like the narrations”, he says casually.

Initially, he used to earn Rs.1500 per month. Later Krishna decided to strike out on his own and started his own footpath book stall. He used to make Rs.3000 a month. In two years he managed to save enough seed money to start The Bookworm. Seeing his dedication and enthusiasm some of his friends and vendors and customers pitched in with the rest of the amount.

How did he do it? “At some point I decided that I was going to start my own book store. I worked with determination towards my only goal.”

He worked 365 days a year from 8.30 am to 10 pm and more with no breaks or holidays. There wasn’t any spare cash to indulge in extra food or entertainment. He also had to send money back home. But he pulled it off.

The Bookworm has 98percent of all the tittles of almost all the authors. Within six months Kirshna opened another branch of The Bookworm since the first one became too small to accommodate his growth.

“My ultimate goal is to start a publishing house,” he says. “I want to publish good works of people that will go on to become classics."

Will he make it? I bet my last drop of ink -he will.

Today, every time I visit The Bookworm I am reminded of one man’s determination and the possibilities that life can offer to those who are willing to take a chance. Sometimes, we don't get what we want in life simply because our dreams don't leave the drawing board of our mind.

Walking on Water

It was a stormy night. The sea was angry, throwing up irate waves high and livid enough to devour anything in its path. Trapped in its predatory belly was a group of fishermen, huddled fearfully, in their small boat, which was being tossed and turned according to the whims of the sea. They were clutching their frightened hearts in their hands. They were at the mercy of a furious Mother Nature. All they wished for was to be back home safely.

In the midst of all this frenzy there was a figure walking on water. They couldn’t believe their eyes. It was walking towards them, steadily and serenely on the vehement waves. “Ghost, ghost,” they cried.

And the figure on the water spoke, “Take courage. It is I, do not be afraid.” It was God.

The men in the boat grew numb and silent. They didn’t believe a word of what they thought was the ghost of a raving lunatic –“who else would choose a night like this to go for a stroll on the ocean!”

But amongst them there was one fisherman who was different. He stood up, unsteadily, clutching his twittering heart, he said, “If you are really God, then make me to come to you –walking on water.”

His friends thought that he had lost his mind. “Shhhhh….sit down,” hissed one. “Are you mad?” cried another. “Why on earth would you want to walk on those raging waves, what purpose will it serve?” asked yet another. But the extraordinary fisherman knew what he wanted –he wanted to walk on water! He wished to do the impossible. He dared to do the impossible. So, he called out again. “God, if it is really, really, you then tell me to come to you on the water.”

“Come,” said God

The crazy fisherman stepped out of the boat, in the middle of a storm, with his friends watching him aghast. He slowly and steadily walked on the stormy waters towards the figure that was beckoning him.

He was shocked to see what he was able to do. His ability and capability took him by surprise for never in his wildest dreams did he imagine that he would one day walk on water. He was exhilarated. He was amazed at his own power.

However, after a few minutes, doubts began to creep in. “What if I am unable to complete my journey?” thought the fisherman. “What will happen to me? Oh my God, I will drown and be lost in the humungous waves forever; buried in the sea bed for infinity….I will never get to see my family and friends…”

Doubts began gnawing at him vigorously. “I know I wanted to walk on water but was it right on my part to get off the boat? I should’ve thought about it some more before stepping off the boat. Why did I do it?” he chided himself. Suddenly, he was more afraid of the waves –it appeared more threatening and menacing to him than it did a few minutes ago. As he let his fears and doubts grow bigger than him he began to sink. He cried, “God save me…” Immediately, God reached out to the fisherman and caught him. “Why do you doubt?” God asked.

For me there are three important points that stand out in this story.

Firstly, the fisherman dared to do the impossible. He wanted to do something in life, which his friends hadn’t even dreamed of. And HE GRABBED THE first available opportunity thrown at him.

Secondly, once he began his journey he allowed self-doubts and fear to kill his adventurous spirit. I can relate to that and so can many others.

But, what he did next was what made this fisherman successful, for the Bible says, that this fisherman later went on to become a great leader in the world.

When he knew he was sinking, when he was struggling in his journey, he cried out for help. “Help me, please!”

Some of us don’t realize that it is okay to cry out for help. Seeking help is part of our journey in life, an important ritual that serves well in attaining our goals in life. All we have to do is ask, ask and ask again!

I find asking for help, the most difficult part of life. It makes you feel like a failure. It magnifies your weaknesses a hundred fold. Seeking help does not come naturally to many. Some feel that the very act of asking for a little help to achieve their goals takes something away from their achievements.
As writer Paulo Coelho mentioned, when we want something in life, the whole universe and God will conspire to give it to us. But everything depends on how badly we want it. If we do want it badly enough, then we should not hesitate to ask boldly, “Please, help me.”

PS: (Am still trying to master this art...)

Travel Plans for Life

I met her around nine years ago. She has been an inspiration to me all along. I never miss an opportunity to talk or write about her. When I don’t share her story with others, I feel I am denying people something precious to behold in their lives.

She was only nine-year’s old when the Creator decided to launch her on a journey of fame, success and glory. All three would come much later in life, but the voyage was to begin at the appointed time and hour. And so, it did. This is story of my friend Dr.Prema Dhanraj.

Prema was a beautiful child. She was an all rounder in school. For a nine-year old she was unusually independent. That evening, she came back home from school, early. She was humming. It was a song that she was going to sing at the competition the next day. The lyrics in her head danced to the music in her mouth. Her mother was at the neighbor’s and the housekeeper wasn’t around. SO Prema deicded to boil herself a glass of milk. She lit the old fashioned pumping gas stove on the floor.

Prema was still humming the song when the stove burst. It was the beginning of her pilgrimage in life. Flames licked her face. She closed her eyes into painful slits and cried out. Her ears, which were fast melting into a mass of flesh, were deaf to her screams. The raging flames eating her face –forehead, nose, eyes, cheeks, mouth -drowned her cries.

Fast forward. In the next five years Prema underwent 14 painful surgeries. The doctors at CMC, Vellore meticulously reconstructed her face, but it was never the same again. It turned into a face that made people on the road stop and stare. “People would gape in shock or quickly look away, embarrassed by may distorted face,” she would tell me later. Now, she is oblivious to such reactions.

Today, decades later, Prema is the head of the department of Reconstructive and Plastic surgery, CMC, Vellore –the same hospital where she battled for life eons ago. She is a world renowned surgeon whose expertise and knowledge in the field is sought after by leading hospitals in Europe and Africa. She travels across the globe helping people set up burn units. She is considered a surgeon par excellence. She performs numerous surgeries every day. She springs hope, where there is none. From dawn to dusk she makes sure that she uses every opportunity that comes her way, makes her talents count in life. Now, she is spending her time, energy and money in setting up Agniraksha –an organization that will help under privileged burn victims. “God has blessed me abundantly, I just want to give something back to the world,” she says.

I look at her and I am in awe of her. While I was thinking of all the things she lost in life because of her accident she was counting her blessings in life! I look at her again. The face reminds you of a beauty lost, but also reflects a beauty beyond words. The face still makes people do a double take, but it also spells hope for hundreds of them. My friend’s face is scarred; yet serene. Most importantly, hers is a happy face.

How did she come this far and climb this high in life with no rancor or rage? How did she negotiate the treacherous curves in life? “My looks never came in the way of my education or achieving what I wanted to,” she had told me. But that’s not the truth. What’s true is that Prema did not ALLOW her looks to come in the way of living her life the way she wanted to. Of course she did not reach that place of comfort overnight. It was a long and arduous journey. “My mother taught me to channelise my anger and bitterness into something positive,” she says. She told me, “You have got to live with this face for the rest of your life. It is up to you to decide to whether you want to live happily or not.”

Bad things do happen to good people. We have no control over certain events that might occur in our lives –somebody is diagnosed with a terrible ailment or somebody loses a family or a limb or goes through a painful divorce –we cannot plan for these things in life. One day we are fine and the next, we are given the biggest blow in life. What happens? Life continues –we wake up in the morning, we eat, we breathe, we live; there are bills to be paid, families to be taken care of and work to be done. Life continues, as it did yesterday and the day before. Yet we are left standing with a cross to bear. What do we do? I would say do what my friend Prema did. She says, “There were times when I asked God, `Why me?” But now I am beginning to think that if I hadn’t had this accident, I wouldn’t have achieved so much in life. I wouldn’t have reached out to so many people. I have come to accept that His ways are mysterious and it is best not to fight Him. Today, I have reached a stage where I think my accident has been a blessing disguise –to me and many people out there.”

One never knows when we will be catapulted on our special journey in life. The question is, do we make the journey fighting with ourselves and the Creator, every inch of the way, filled with bitterness, anger, fear and frustration, or do we play along and make the journey as peaceful, happy and useful as possible? The choice is ours. And the journey is a must!

My b'day...

Yesterday was my B'day.....and....

Once you cross 35, there is a primal awareness that you are moving from Stage I in life to Stage II and that the latter has a finite amount of time left for you to accomplish all that you want in life.

From ages 1-12 I wanted everything that my parents wanted for me (including the brightest yellow colour frock that my dad handpicked for me. How could you do that to me dad!?)
From 13-18 I wanted all those things that my parents didn’t want for me –that included a particular boy next door with a dubious reputation.
Ages 19-22, I wanted to conquer the world, with an effrontery that is unique to that age.
Between 23-29, I wanted to change the world –my way.
At 30, I began to change.
And at 37 I now want to accomplish my purpose in life.

I think at 37 all of us are fairly equipped to live life the way it should be lived –an adventurous journey filled with mystery.

At 37, you might not possess the innocence of a 10-year old anymore. I know babies don’t come from heaven, especially the ones that scream in the mall or the ones that ask a 100 questions during a family get together. But there’s still a child in you no matter how old you are.

You might not have the naiveté of a 14-year old. I know there are no knights in shining armor on white horses. Men hate wearing armor –“too hot in there”- and half the guys in the world don’t know how to ride a horse, let alone a white one.

You might not have the brazenness of an 18 year old where you say F*** nine times in a sentence that has only 12 words.

You might not possess the `I-don’t-give-a-damn-what-the-world-thinks-about-me’ audacity of a 22 year old. (It is true that what your boss thinks about you affects your promotions and increments).

You might not even indulge in `the world doesn’t give a damn about me’ perspective of a 30-year-old (You know what you think about yourself is more important than what the world does about you).

But at 37, you still have the zest for life, like a teenager; the charm of a young adult and the fire in the belly of yore- albeit mellowed, refined and mature.

Turning 37 has its advantages: Remember the time when you had to camouflage your Harold Robbins novel as `English II Non-Detail Text? Hah, at 37, you can have a copy of `The Complete Kamasutura’ in your study and people will label you as `evolved’.

At 25 when your friend cancels dinner plans, you sulk. At 37, you go out and dine with your gal pal instead. When the same friend asks you out on an impromptu coffee you ask him to FO with no malice and a sparkling smile. At 37, you don’t take things `personally’ you learn to take pleasure in every thing that life brings you. You value and cherish every moment and every relationship, because you are making memories here. And you believe that people come into your life, some might stay forever and some go away -but all have added to your life!

When you are 37 people stop clicking their tongues at your single status. They believe you are no more on the shelf –you have been moved to the attic.

As a 37 year old single woman you can bring home a baby minus the father and get featured on the cover of leading magazines in the country.

Above all –at 37 you learn to listen before you speak, earn before you spend and wait before you criticize. You realize the wrinkles on your face have another name –laughter lines. The number of lines near your eyes denotes the number of times your smile went all the way up to your eyes.

At 37 you are product of all those years gone by –mistakes made, lessons learnt and some forgotten, dreams dreamt some turned into reality and others shelved for life, innocence lost, experience gained, ignorance erased, knowledge acquired, thoughts and values shaped and reshaped by events in life.
At 37 you learn to try before you quit and you learn to live before you die.
Yes, at 37 you are well-equipped to live life.

A 35-year old single woman wants...

My friend, lets call her Ms.X, is a successful financial consultant in New York. She was a precocious teenager who had her whole life charted out. “By 21 I would be in the US,” she would read out from her list. “By 25, a successful financial consultant, 26, I will own a swanky car, a chic house and a handsome bank balance. At 29, I will get married and by 31 I will have my first child.”

Everything went as planned until age 29. After that Ms.X’s life went sky diving. Today, she is 35 and there is no husband or child in sight –she is SINGLE.

My friend lacked no suitors. However, not one was suitable. John looked like Tom Cruise and his only aim in life was to `look like Tom Cruise’. Hugh, that isn’t saying much! Matthew had enough money to buy John and Tom. However, on a good day, he looked like Mike Tyson PMSing -not a comforting thought!. Kevin was rich and handsome. “If George Bush is dumb, Kevin is Dumber, cried Ms.X from across the seven seas. Craig, I thought, was THE man for my friend – a walking encyclopedia with Greed god mien and wealth to match. “But he called my dog a DOG. Can you believe that?” Ms.X singed my ears with her assorted gasps and grunts. Apparently, she was thoroughly offended by Craig’s vocabulary or rather lack of it. But, how does one address a dog? Tony Blair? Dog Saar? I didn’t get it. “Sammy (that’s THE dog) is family,” Ms.X tried to explain. “He is this wonderful creature from whom I have learnt some of the greatest truths in life.” Apparently, how to snag a man was not part of those lessons taught by a celibate dog. (Sammy was strange!) “Moreover, he had appalling dental hygiene.” Who, Sammy? “No, Craigh.” Oh! Bottom line –Craig was shooed away. After Craig came Ashish, Ethan, Vivek, blah, blah, blah.

Today Ms.X has everything that she coveted except Mr.Right. Maybe there is no such thing as Mr. Right. “I know that,” she replied softly. “Why is that nowadays, we have so many women in their 30s, professionally successful women, who want to settle down and experience marital bliss but are unsuccessful at it?” Ms.X pondered.

Some say these women “expect too much”, they are “too rigid leaving no room for compromise”, and they are “irritatingly independent”.

Ms.X argues: “Is it `expecting too much’ to want to be able to intellectually vibe with your partner? Am I being too `rigid’ in wanting to marry a man not for the sake of marriage but for love? Am I `irritatingly independent’ when I say I can handle my own plumbing problem or want to take a man out for dinner? Is it wrong for a woman to insist on certain qualities in her life partner?”

My friend has a point, don’t you think so?

Bu then there is yet another old school of thought: “There is a time and age for women to get married. Modern women are busy chasing a career when they are supposed to marry. And by the time they decide to marry there ain't too many fish in the sea. You can’t be picky or you will be forgotten on the shelf.”

Ms.X’s response? Up goes the diamond clad middle finger. “That’s a load of BS,” she fumes. “At 22 if I had agreed to tie the knot my parents would’ve found me a suitable boy –suitable then would’ve been translated into decent family, looks, status, habits, great job etc. They would have also wanted us to be compatible. At 35 when I want the same things in a life partner, I am labeled difficult and asked not to be choosy? Why?

If you ask my opinion (not many make that mistake these days!) I think it’s a case of women having changed leaps and bounds over the years. What women want now is different from what they wanted five decades ago. The rest of the world is unable to keep pace with the transformation. They call her selfish and self destructive. “What is she complaining about? You made your bed now lay in it. Suffer the consequences of the choices that you made in life,” is the world’s reply to the contemporary woman’s anguish. The world does not know how to deal with a woman who wants to eat her cake and have it too. Problems would be solved if only my ilk knew how to get the baker too. Not any baker, but the right one!