The Man inside

Finally, the demons of Loneliness and Depression have almost changed my gender!!!

Earlier, only my thinking and planning parts had become manly.

Now, my likes and dislikes are turning masculine too. (With the exception that I still don’t fantasize sleeping with women or assume the whole world to be my urinal)

I see the idiot-emotional-fool-female inside me pregnant with the thoughts of intellectually awakened focus of reality and delivering bitter facts of life everyday (every evening, to be particular, when I walk back home, alone).

With every penny I spend, with every person I talk to, with every topic that I discuss with my room mate, I feel myself superior that I am out of these vicious circles of relations and relationships.

I feel proud about myself to have standing on that breakeven where I am getting all the benefits of being lonely and lack all the negative points of being into a relationship.

My relation with myself has improved  much.

I think like a man. I don’t curse myself anymore. I take care of myself. I plan finances. I think of less shopping and more eating. I talk less stupid and talk more sense.

I even get the feeling of wearing socks inside my shoes now- a thought that I never got in almost last three decades of my life.

Anyways, even after so much bragging, I feel I haven’t overstated. Believe me.

Well, the point I wanted to share is that I am a man now!!

The problem (or the blessing) is that I continue to feel so. Probably I have none who treats me as a female (except the lady in the lingerie shop).

None gives me flowers or picks up my hot water bucket or helps me bringing down the box kept at the uppermost shelf of my cupboard. None carries my non-buoyant luggage when I change platforms at New Delhi station, on way back home. I solve my own tax problems.

None sends surprise birthday cakes on my birthday.

None even offers me seat while in train (as it is a ladies coach…huff!!!!) or bus  (the oldies ‘claim’ the seats if I get any)

None tells me that I am a beautiful woman (except the peeping Toms on road) and that it rains flowers when I smile.

I buy the shoes that are strong (and not fancy) and I buy them because I need to wear them (and not just that they match with my skirt).

The words like ‘flat 50% sale’ have become French for me. I find it important to read the news in the newspaper now. I surf for news channels, like Dad, when i get T.V. remote in my hands. I am not aware of the new movies releasing or the new baggy pants in vogue.

I always see the watch before I start anything (and then when I end).

I don’t care what I am I wearing or how am I looking when I enter the class-room.

I don’t panic if I realize that  forgot to spray a cologne today. None bothers to smell me.
I have forgotten the way to beauty saloon from  home. I think it was summers when I last visited the lady coiling a hair dryer around her neck, applying red color on somebody’s hair and dabbing white cream on someone’s face.

Huh!!

I take short walks, after lunch, alone. Just like Dad used to, in winters.

I sit mute for ten minutes and ponder some manlike thoughts before going to bath, just like Grand Pa (he used to do so after shaving).

I budget how much to put inside the envelope when invited on a wedding.

I don’t feel jealous to see a stunning babe. Rather, I appreciate her beauty.  Unbelievable, but true!!

And, last, but final proof- I wish I too had a dumb Indian wife, to cook and dry, like other men.

Oh F….k. ( I silently said, O Freak!!!!)