Well, much fuss about a changed “relationship status” and an anger fueled by a few vermins has compelled me to compose the following tirade.
I never wanted to do this on my blog. But hey! Better puke on your platter than someone else’s, right?
So the question is “why?”
And I endorse clichés and reply “why not?”
I am thankful to God if he exists( or to Debottam Dutta , cause he’s God enough for me) that I’ve come across a few good people in my life for whom I can con much more than a ‘relationship status’.
Oh, because a certain Miss. Bhattacharya only “toyed with the idea of being in love with him”-because?-she’s too much in her bubble to see beyond. –because?-she only realizes what she’s giving away when someone else claims it.
And then Mr. Know-it-all comes along with his vile verbosity and rekindles my old antipathy towards the term ‘boyfriend’.
-A ‘multi-tasking’, body-inking, head-banging, gut-wrenching, spleen-squishing metrosexual man is what comes to my mind… and sympathy for my seventeen-year old self, sympathy for my naiveté at not having learnt to distinguish between love and relationships, relationships and relationship status’s, between a man and a male.
Between mindless splurging and senseless conversations what ‘boyfriend’ came to mean to me was little more than packaged coercion’s of a hormone-charged body, and the relationship- a day-to-day saccharine resistance to it .
I think I told someone this morning “I am medieval”.
I am. Or at least my principles are.
(And I have loved a man whose reaction to the above statement would be like:
Principles, young lady are little more than variables.)
Debottam Dutta is not my boyfriend.
And though I know what he deserves, and thus would go my length to make sure he gets it, I care not about who finally strikes this ‘gold’. I leave it to the ladies to fight it out cause I’ve something better to look forward to –his promise of being my ‘dad’ next life.