my little paradise...

Flipping through the 'saturated with pink lipstick and false eyelashes' pages of a girlie magazine I'm a big fan of in my weaker moments, I came across this quiz which if done honestly was supposed to tell you if you are a 'bitch' or not. It's not just because it happens to be derogatory to the female of the world's most lovable species. I just don't quite like the word. I don't use it and noone, just noone calls me that and gets away with it. Maybe it was one of the weakest of those weaker moments I was telling you about..but I took that quiz. Honestly.

Now why would I rely on a publication which if given its way would have the world believe success is directly proportional to your night life, to help me decide what kind of person I am. I knew I wouldn't fit the description even before I started out. Nobody would in fact. Most of these quizzes are cleverly contrived to make the average person fall very cosily into the average category which tells you (for example) how perfectly balanced you are between wild cat and hello kitty.

These magazines don't expose you to the winds that blow the hair of a malnourished rural woman out of place or articulate the silence she has been accustomed to living in. Who is she anyway? Is she dating the hot guy in that wild new music video? Who cares about her when you have a comfy cushion to lean back against, cold coffee and all the time in the world? Of course you do. I know I do. It's just that I care almost as much whether Penelope Cruz broke up with
Tom cruise because of his affiliations to Scientology and how exactly I can enhance my 'va va voom' factor a la Posh Spice.

And yet, I don't want to go through my life thinking that I have never looked at the world through the eyes of someone who doesn't quite see the colours I have been gifted with. Let's see. I'm not going to deny myself anything..that would amount to hypocrisy. I am going to wear branded jeans and I am going to read those magazines and I am going to turn my nose up now and then at public transport. But I won't let all of that take my mind off a reality that is fortunately not so much mine to mourn.

I am 22.I should have left all that adolescent meandering behind me.i think i have in many ways.And yet, there is so much of life that remains to be lived regardless of whether i know how i want to live it.The road ahead looks smooth and shiny,there's a love song playing on my lips and there's fuel in my tank.This is how it is always going to be.I'm never going to either win or lose.It will always be a matter of how i look in the rear view mirror.