A library of questions. A leaflet of answers.

Caution: Ranty post.

Too many questions. Not many answers.

Discovering yourself. It’s a hard task. . There is no time that you would
sit and introspect. What do you want? Why do you want it? Is it a crazy
obsession that will fade away as you get your hands on it? Or is it something
that would change who you are? Is it even relevant?

You wake up. Brushing is a herculean task. You skip it and your mom serves
you your breakfast. Half fried egg and two slices of bread. The same everyday.

You log on to the web. Sadness pours onto your blog. The hours of your day vanish away before you can
count till 100 in your brain. Nature's call, hunger and other things happen in
short breaks ranging from 3.56 to 3.57 minutes.

You realise its evening. You slog your ass to the gym. From putting away
looking into the mirror due to shame to the your day-by-day firming opinion how
you should get used to living a fattie all your life because that's how it
feels is supposed to be. You get back home thinking about various #EpicFail
ways and diets you ll do the next day. You run to your laptop like a mother
running to her just found kid. You make desperate attempts at being funny at
Twitter. No one rebloged. No new followers. Finally your bum gives in to be
glued at a single place for hours. You literally experience what 'pain in the
ass’ feels like. Late night consecutive reruns of Big Bang theory, Two and a Half men, Glee and Supernatural replace the tradition of bed time stories. You
put the Television on a sleep timer and close your eyes before it shuts down.
Dark makes you imagine all type of creatures. Its time to sleep.

All through the day you just keep yourself involved so that you dont have to
think about more pressing issues. How life was supposed to be about Chartered
Accountancy. How the dreams and the plans to study day and night were being
tweeted away. Ambition was forgotten. Getting yourself drunk on an overdose of
a desperate virtual life and ignorance somehow trying to not think about the
nightmare that is near. A result that is sure to have you flunked.

Do I want to live the rest of my life this way, messing up my social life?

Do I want to do Chartered Accountancy?

Do I want to go on a crash diet, fat burners look good on the cost of my
fucked up health?

Do I want to ignore all the calls of people until they get tired enough to
try anymore?

Hundreds of questions circling your mind with the same answer. I don’t know.

But there is one question I firmly know the answer to : 

Do I want people
telling me how to get my life straight, how to correct my sleep cycle, how I
should be studying, how social life needs to be given a chance? 

NO.

Being a girl is the last thing you would want to be.

Do you want to be girl? Like, Forever?



The answer to this statement being a ‘YES’ is as rare as a good hair day on your first date. Especially if you are an Indian. I have nothing against my country but when it comes to being born as a girl, India would be the last place I would like to be born into.



The only day you might have wanted to be girl would be when you accidently went to an interview without fully buttoning your shirt and your man boobs just quite didn't impress the boss, or when you had to hand over your 'hard-earned' money to your sister on Rakshabandhan.



If you still say yes “I would gladly be a girl” answer me:



Do you want to be ranked on a scale of Nicole Richie to Scarlett Johansson on the basis of your size of your boobs by random roadside people on the street as soon as you leave your house?



Do you want guys to look at your tits instead of your eyes and pinch your ass instead of shaking your hand?



Do you want to be offered a job because somewhere in the back of your boss’s mind he thinks that you might be very good in bed and he has a chance?



Do you want to be called a slut just because you wear revealing clothes?



Do you want to be raped and then hear it was your fault because you were wearing a mini skirt?



Do you want to see your brother attend all night parties but not going yourself because, well you are a girl?



Do you want to be called characterless just because you have slept around with more than one person unlike a guy, who is called a stud?



Do you want to reconsider your option of wearing white according to the weather?



Do you want to be stared at when you walk into a room where people are telling a dirty joke and they awkwardly stop midway at seeing you?



Do you want to wait an hour to find a decent washroom on a road trip?



Do you want to be paid less for an equal amount of work that a male colleague does?



Do you want to buy condoms with the shopkeeper imagining you naked?



Do you want to writhe in pain bleeding every month?



Do you want your parents to fuss over wherever you go, because they think everyone is going to rape you?



Do you want every guy commenting ‘hot’ on your Facebook picture just because it has a slight glimpse of your bra strap?

Yes I thought so too. You don’t have to worry about permissions when le`ving the house. You don’t have to worry about any pain or bleeding when losing virginity. You don’t think twice before introducing your girlfriend to your family. You don’t need to act dumb to make a girl notice you. You don’t have to worry about your underwear glimpsing while doing weights in the gym. Unlike a girl, you just have to have sex to have a baby.



You don’t get people lecturing you about problems in future pregnancy if you smoke or drink. The girl’s parents do not assume the fact that you are a Sanjeev Kapoor when you marry. Your name and your parents live with you forever.(or till when you want). You do not have to bear with the pain of hot wax (especially nowhere near your private area.) You do not have to worry about making crotch adjustments in public. And this is a list when we are talking about a girl who is born in a middle class family who have somehow managed to break free of the clutches of ancient practices of not educating the girl child.



Being a girl is very difficult. But its not like we had a choice. The very least that you can do is respect us.