I have a fairly ordinary life….by that I mean a very ok job, a loving husband, complete and total inability to wear high heels for more than 2 hrs at a stretch and a strange affinity to continuously buying the wrong shade of lipsticks/nailpaint.
I have at least 2 pairs of jeans, so old that even moths are refusing to hole up in them, which I have retained because I am hopeful that in the next 3 months I shall be able to fit my 34’’ waist into their 30’’ waists.
Every night, after a guilt inducing BIG dinner, I stand in front of my mirror, trying to figure out all the possible places the food could have gone and settled. And every morning…Oh all right, twice a week, I wake up, all charged to exercise. After huffing and puffing through two Surya Namaskars, I stand, happily, in front of the mirror again, convinced that my butt is looking smaller. I’ve kept this up for the past 3 years and all the while my weight has crept up from 63 to 73. Sigh! It’s hopeless.
Everytime I glance through a Cosmopolitan or an Elle, I am confronted with these women who have all consuming jobs, are married, with a couple of kids to boot. Apparently, all these superwomen have hefty pay packets, find time to go to a gym atleast 4 times a week, make sure super lunches happen for hubby and kids, and also have time to get their waxing done on time!
Let’s see how I score. Lunches……hmmm. You know, it’s not like I don’t try. But by some cosmic misunderstanding, when there are onions in my house there are no tomatoes/aloos/any other vegetable and when there is “ any other vegetable” chances are there will be no onions/tomatoes/aloos/all other vegetables!
I have a cook. She comes in every morning at Seven. Man, do I dread her. I open the door and cringe at her enthusiastic countenance. And everyday…it’s a ritual…..she opens the fridge and gives me a withering look. “ Aaj bhi koi sabji nahin hai! Main kya pakayegi?” I avoid her eyes. Really, the woman is getting paid to do nothing. I’d love to be in her shoes! Does she have to be so conscientious? I feverishly dig into the fridge. “ Tum rehne do,” she says condescendingly. “ Main kuch karegi” . I subside meekly and wait for my early morning cuppa. And swear to myself that I’m going to shop today. Vegetables, sugar, milk, tea, toothpaste. EVERYTHING. And how difficult is that? There’s a departmental store right below my husband’s office. I meet him every evening after work for the drive back home. And since my lord and master mostly makes me wait for at least half an hour before he condescends to descend from his 4th floor office, I can utilize that time, can I not? Today I shall shop. I look at the bai gloatingly when she comes in with the tea. Yes, today I shall shop.
My husband and I do travel to work together….and back. Our offices are barely 5 minutes apart. We get to spend some quality time together that way. So every morning we have a fruitful, loving discussion on the status of roads in Mumbai. The conversation, basically, goes somewhat like this
Me : You know…
Road : Crater!!
Him: Damn these roads. What is wrong with these people. Why can’t they make some good roads in this city.
Phone : Ring
Him : Arrey Sir . Kaisen Hain. Haan Haan milte hain. Let’s have lunch tomorrow. Aur sunne main aaya, aapke yahan promotions announce ho rahi hain…..good good. Haan work is fine…as fine it can be in these markets….drone..drone…(on the status of capital markets for the next 10 mins)
Road : Crater! Bump!
Him : Kya sir. Kya city hai. No roads. Haan let’s meet tomorrow
Me : Let’s do something nice this weekend.
Him : Haan Baby. You decide.
Road : Long continuous crater
Him : ?#@* Damn these roads. What is wrong with these people. Why can’t they make some good roads in this city.
Or something like that. Well, anyway, you get the gist. He claims he’s going into his work mode so I’m kinda receding into the background. Evenings are slightly better. That’s because he’s getting out of his work mode and I’m becoming the focus!!!! My poor, loving, muddled man. Multi tasking is clearly not his forte!!
Anyway, seeing that we are digressing big time, it’s time to let you on to the secret.
Why am I a Diva?
Simple. Because I think so.
Because I can stand in front of the mirror before a night out and think I look really hot.
Because I can sit in a taxi with my ipod on while traveling to a meeting and sing aloud and feel really happy
Because I always have time for my parents, no matter what
Because there may be no perfect dinner/lunch at my house ( damn, I still haven’t bought those veggies ) but my hubby does not complain coz he knows I work equally hard.
Because I believe in the principal that being a bitch is really not going to make me look more important.
Because I can be a bitch when required.
Because I can sit in my tiny balcony with a cup of coffee on a lovely afternoon and think – Thank God for all the love in my life and thank God for Life.