I’m 25, I’m single and everybody except me is wondering why and quite a few have decided it’s their personal responsibility to set me up with the dream boy. Especially at weddings and family events, cupid sports a saree, big kumkum and comes smiling and ask fondly about my career, education and blah blah. “What are your expectations?” that question my friend, comes out to me in slow motion and I wince at every syllable that comes out of that heavily lipsticked mouth.
The question, in my humble opinion, is pointless. Which girl would ever say, “Yes aunty, bring on a drug addict, who looks like shit, doesn’t earn much and yeah the meaner the better.” Okay fine, I said it once to an aunt of mine but hello that was sarcasm! We all want the best!
But none the less, I want to think it out. What do I really want? Does he have to be rich, does he have to be a stunner, should he be funny, should he be a cook, should he blah blah blah!
And yeah, I don’t care about his profession, caste, complexion or whatever. I still wonder how those parameters help me decide if i want to spend the rest of my life with someone. So then what am I looking for?
I want a guy I can’t wait to see every day (yeah clichéd, i know!), somebody I can be myself with, somebody who understands why I do the stupid things I do, somebody who gets annoyed with those silly things and yet loves me enough to roll his eyes and put up with it. I want a guy who doesn’t make me feel like an idiot for being a klutz. I want someone who will catch me when I have my bizarre falls and then laugh about them with me. I want a guy who knows if I’m going to laugh or scream from the way my nose flares up. I want to be able to tell from his voice if something’s bothering him.
When we go out, I want him to know which table to pick, so I don’t crib. And I want to be able to order his dish, perfect to his taste without him having to say it. And once we place the order, I just want him to hold my hand and smile. I want to be able to sit with him, not say word and still feel content. I want to love his madness, his stupid ways and I want to love each and every one of his flaws. I want to crib about them, I want us to fight. I want us both to feel miserable after the fight, but still be eager to bury the hatchet.
I want all of that and I want to feel all of that for my man. Ab bolo, hai koi nazar mein?
PS: I’m singing ‘The Way You Make Me Feel‘ an old old song by Ronan Keating… ‘yeah, you somehow make things right’