Wednesday, March 4, 2015

The Perfect Matrimony Pic

To Future Husband,
That picture you have of me- The gums are visible, you see, in it. The smile gets ruined, they say – makes me look too enthusiastic. And too happy.
That’s not right. Why should I look too happy in the picture? I’m only having fun with my friends in the pub. And damn, those legs are visible too. I know your paternal uncle, the one who visits you once in every two years would really dislike such a shameless woman to be included in the family.
Would you not drool at my exposed back? But then so would the 150 men liking my picture on Facebook. I mean, come on! How can a girl from a respectable family, unmarried, independent, working, educated, smart and funny at that, even think of doing that?
As for me, it would make me proud when I think of the things you have done, of your degrees and achievements. Of the people who look up to you. That the family adores you, mine and yours. That no matter what, they’ll know you are around. I’d smile, (with my gums visible, mind you!) and show off, that I’m so lucky to have you in my life. That you didn't judge me by the fact that I like clubbing, and that it isn't boring that I don’t drink or smoke. That I have had boyfriends before. That I’m hilarious, and talented, and always interesting to be around. That you like the corners I keep painting about, that I dance while I make tea. And I sing. A lot. And the house is strewn with papers with poems and stories scribbled on it.
That was the reason, wasn't it?
And you would know more of me, when you step away from the typecast pinned up in your mind, and put in an effort.
Let the reason not be the fact that I can feed you, and your friends and family. I don’t mind doing that. But it isn't my job description. That when you saw my picture I was thinner, I had lost weight, just for that purpose. And if you do turn me down, please let it be not because I don’t laugh at all your jokes, and that I can conjure better comebacks. 
That I love my long hair, faded grey tee and shorts. And I hate make-up.
That there can be things in the world that I would know more about than you.
I would choose you as you wouldn't stereotype me as a feminist when I refuse to be responsible for the evening tea every day. I would choose you because you can talk about Wilde, Dexter, the Avengers, F1 racing and books. For at least an hour. And that time wouldn't matter when I’m with you, just talking.  
I would choose you because you wouldn't be worried if I knew more about sex. Or have questions about it. Or that the fact that I can initiate a conversation doesn't mean I’m over smart. And that I can be interested in football too. And have an opinion and not be afraid to express it. I would choose you because you would respect my space, my crazy artsy space. And I would understand your deadline chasing, jock jokes world. I care about family, so do you. I like having fun, so do you. I like books, and you like your evening jog. And this would carry on too, and life wouldn't be just about settling bills and buying groceries. And that’s our world put together with the scraps of our imagination. Not with one picture of what you or others painted in your mind revolving around your world.
MBA, and a prior engineer, with a plethora of hobbies, working as a consultant. I have crazy work hours like you. Isn't it perfect that I would actually sympathize with your work schedules as well? And I wouldn't complain when you forget dates, as, hell, I would too.
So before you go any further, take a good look, I’m imperfect with that too enthusiastic smile, having fun at a beach, with a tan. I’m 26, and not waiting for my knight. I prefer being my own knight. I even prefer being the wild horse running across the sun kissed sands of the same beach. Not worrying that my hair is out of place, that I’m not always surrounded by gawking men who think I’m way too hot.
I want you because you would love living with me.
I’m me. I commit for life. I love unconditionally. I come with my burden of mistakes and joys.
I respect you and what you stand for. And that’s what I ask in return.
I don’t mind the millions of pints of beer you had, or that you enjoy staring at beauty. I do too. Only human. Doesn’t have to do anything with the chromosomes we have. But at the end of the day, there’s nothing more I’d love than to share a tub of popcorn with you over an action flick, or just share coffee and go back to our monotony of work, sitting beside each other.
With love,
The prospective Bride.