To My 3 AM Musings

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The saga of groom hunting

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Every year, my landlord conveys his dire wish to my parents to receive my wedding card. Every year, I convey my dire wish to him to renew my rent agreement as well as my "singlehood." I wonder if I have disappointed other Gods as much as Cupid. He must be whining from above at my destiny, "This woman, what a waste!" more so because he must have manifested himself in hundreds of forms through hundreds of friends or random strangers, but each time, each time I have miserably failed him. While my Gods have given up on me, my parents have not. They have everything I lack- an undeterred vision, determination, and dedication to steer me through this ride of groom hunting. You see, the only thing consistent throughout the 28 years of my existence is that I am an average, plain Jane in all aspects alike. So, I get intimidated and overwhelmed by flowery adjectives and fancy titles used in the bio and preference section of the prospects that show up on the matrimonial apps....
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A Daughter's dilemma

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You know, I wanted to tell you that day, I got a second place in the school’s singing contest, hooray! But silence held me, what triumph could I claim? Two voices only, a competition so lame. With a hollow victory, I feared your disdain. But what I didn't tell you, and what you ought to know, Is how I conquered my fear, and let my voice flow? Since then, for everything, I kept my lips tight, Because you have always wished me to be quiet. Sometimes I did try venting out, you see, As it was hard to keep it all bottled up within me. But then the focus used to shift, it was suddenly all about you, And how I, supposedly, made you feel so blue. Also anything I share, Cannot be wholly safe under your care.   So yeah, you were right, in a twisted way, Silence is the safest bet any day. I'm forever indebted to you, For everything you have done for me so far, and for everything you still do. But sometimes I feel so unnoticed by you. No matter how hard I strive, my efforts fall through t...
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Tales of my SPECT-acular escapades

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Third grade. That's when the blurry blackboard finally drove me to the eye doctor. My notebooks, a masterpiece of miscopied gibberish, were a source of constant frustration for my teachers. But honestly, I was secretly thrilled at the prospect of glasses. My wish came true, and I made my grand entrance home, the proud owner of negative 0.5 and negative 0.25 diopter, oval, silver-framed spectacles, complete with spectacle straps ensuring a secure placement (thanks to Baba!). Instantly, I resembled every strict grandmother I'd ever known and, predictably, became the school's prime source of amusement for the next few days. As a teenager, I really wanted trendy eyewear, which were sometimes hard on my father's wallet. I'd strategically complain about 'eyesight problems' and even managed to manipulate him a few times into getting me new glasses instead of just lenses. This trick also let me sit closer to my crush whenever the teacher put me in the back of the cl...
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