Writing

Writing is an exercise we are coerced into by our junior school teachers assisted duly by their invariably fat spectacles and equally fat wooden rulers. All Bengali parents think their child to be a protegee who will grow up to be either a Rabindranath Tagore or at least a Sukumar Ray. However jokes apart reading and writing are institutions we are luckily introduced to very early in life.

Unlike most people I began life with, i.e. cousins and nursery school friends I quite liked writing. I loved to see my name featuring in the index of the school magazine each year. I would run my fingers on the printed page where perhaps a half page poem or a two page story had been published. Call it self-idolatry or whatever other fancy term, I just loved it. And I still do. I would love to see my name at the end of any piece of writing. Just for that, if not for the sheer joy of writing itself, of the secret music my words played or the fierce duels they fought, i will write.

To express myself, to have my catharsis, to be as disagreeable as ever, to have my silent fight, to move away from someone and bear the pain with a smirk, to unconsciously fall in love or out of it, to put the right words in the right place and have that orgasmic thrill, to have my own adventure, to live I would write.

If only I had some more patience

Why are women never satisfied with their haircut? Or is it just me? No, this is not a frivolous observation of a lazy bum. It is a serious concern. I just looked up into the mirror after washing my face, and i invariably frowned at the curls on my head. Is it about the grass being greener on the other side syndrome? Isn't there some very serious sounding clinical jargon which I can flaunt? Like I suffer from serious-compulsive-psychological-hairstyle-dissatisfaction-syndrome.

When I have short hair I wish it as longer. When I have long hair, I feel what the heck? this is so high maintenance, why can't I have a chic short crop? When I get to highlight my hair I wonder why I gave up the natural brown, and when I have the natural tinge on I think it is so odd.

So how are some women so smug with the mane they don?

Or do they have the perfect parlour? To be very honest I really do not have naything against my beauty parlour, the girls do a pretty decent job. And everytime after they shampoo, and give me a haircut and do the entire spa-hot steam routine topping it up with a blow dried set hairstyle I do tip them quite handsomely. I am happy with what just happened for a couple of hours. Believe it or not it happens every bloody time I go. I am happy for a couple of hours and the I realize that perhaps its too short, or perhaps its not uniform or some other oddity about it.

And never to save my life can I replicate that perfect styling they do. SO whats the point? I spend some good money, but I don't get what I want. People say, You have not changed your hairstyle in like forever or when was the last time you had a different haircut.. and my defensive answer is, I don't really trust strangers with the scissors on my head, and I would love to have long hair. Only I don't have the patience.