Dating was never my forte, and it’s still not my cup of tea. Thanks to the much strict and conservative upbringing, unlike most of my friends, I’ve never dated anyone, and never had the much-talked-about thrills and excitements of having a boyfriend in life. While everyone around was so engrossed in their love lives I happily embraced my solitude and hugged it tight each day, jotted down my thoughts and feelings into several blogs, made friends with lots of books, walked down the busiest lanes with no one to hold me tight, enjoyed watching every downpour of the monsoons bygone with no one to wipe off the wetness from my cheeks, and no loving shoulders to feel the tickle of rain drops dripping from my wet hair. Red roses and beautiful cards never arrived in my life, nor did cheeky and sassy calls and messages that kept the world around lively all nights, while I hugged my pillows and drifted to sleep with no sweet dreams to wait for. With that said I also must admit that I am in no mood to regret for not having these much celebrated pleasures. I’ve never felt they are all the must-haves in everyone’s life, nor do I think they are limited to a certain phase of life, and cease to happen beyond that.
Constantly mocked for lack of supposedly distinguishing feminine qualities and the richness of ‘natural’ beauty to become the head turner or the focal-point of menfolk around, my womanliness was always a fruit for thought for everyone, and it escalated to a very amusing extent where even my sexual orientation was under the radar of these infuriatingly nosy folks.
Many a times I found the uncomfortably frequent inquisitiveness constantly frustrating and bothersome, but thankfully managed to keep up with the annoying world around until now. Adding to my displeasure, certain generous womenfolk around even dared for some matchmaking assistances which I politely denied, adding more doubts to their incredulous minds. Little did I care about what the world had to say about me or my lack of dating skills, or any other of those mistaken thoughts that the world fostered about me.
But 30 plus and still unmarried? The world around concluded that there is something seriously wrong with me. While I am a bit beyond the much marriageable age of an average-minded community, like many other of those supposedly ill-starred women, I too have become the marketable product of a much hyped matrimony website that blindly promises to find the soul mates for everyone who is willing to pay them. Despite the fact that I had absolutely zero intentions to pin-up myself on one such sites and do a visibly embarrassing self-marketing, I was always reminded of the nerve-wracking loneliness that awaits me if opt to remain single for long. Furthermore, like every other parents, mine too have the very typical and conventional dream of getting me married off, and silence everyone who keeps them nagging with a repertoire of offensive questions dripped with uncouth sarcasm.
While I’ve been promoting myself online for about a month or two, I have to say that my business is by far rolling downhill, for lack of being the stereotypical woman who would be showered with endless marriage proposals. While I don’t intent to debunk any of the much staunch beliefs that create the benchmark to gauge a woman as a ‘marriage material’, I have been quite surprised by the number of men who create chocking verbal hullaballoos about their much idealistic partner preferences, only to reject women meanly for not matching up to the level of looks or richness that they’ve set in mind.
For being thirty plus, for lack of long hair, for choice of unconventional academic qualifications and job, for being vocal about my self-identity, for lacking cooking skills, for not being filthy rich, and for many other reasons, I keep getting a bunch of rejections each day, I cannot help but laugh my ass off over them. Much to the surprise of those perceptibly snobbish men, desperation has never hit me hard the reason why none of the back-to-back rejections have been strong enough to pour in the feelings of intense dejection and hurt in to my mind, but on the contrary makes me more stronger.
But I must say that I am more than done dealing with endless questions and sympathetic nods that I get to witness each day, along with scornful reminds about hitting the mega milestone, and walking past the big 30 without having a man by my side. It sickens when I get to see people making huge faces on knowing that I haven’t been ‘lucky’ to date someone find a match yet. As someone who has successfully pursued her dream of leading an independent life, it freaks me out when I get to listen to those pretentious well-wishers who unwelcomely barge-in and spit-out their piece of mind as if there is no tomorrow and I am left with zero chance for a happy relationship or a blessed nuptial. I’ve reached the saturation level of tactful replying to them, and many a times I break the barriers of decorum and give earful to those who are needlessly curious and unsympathetically sardonic.
I don’t know what the future holds for me, nor does the sympathising and scandal mongering crowd around me. While I am fine with waiting for the future to unfold for better, I really wish if I don’t get to see any more sympathisers and scandal lovers around me.