Check out the ultimate guide to 16 return-to-work programs in India for women
Photo by Harli Marten on Unsplash
As an adolescent high school student and still later as a college-goer I was literally fed on a diet of catchpenny Romantic novels (Mills & Boon, Barbara Cartland and so forth) so generously supplied by my classmates, neighbours and friends. At that tender, impressionistic age, these novels acting as a catalyst made my mind soar high in a realm of fantasy. I imagined that my “Mr Right” would be a massive six-footer (since I am quite tall by Indian standards) or near about.
Though I have a penchant for ‘fair skinned’ men, yet olive or dusky complexions would fit the bill equally well. Never mind how or where we met, he would sweep me off my feet, smother me with flowers and gifts on special occasions; he would have to be well read,well-travelled blessed with the gift of gab. However unlike in the aforementioned novels my ‘Prince Charming’ would have to be either a scientist or the quintessential absent minded professor buried neck deep amidst books and papers for greater part of the twenty four hour cycle.
There was no stopping my reckless unbridled imagination. In my wildest of fantasies, we would make love on moonlit spring nights with silvery moon beams flooding the bed. Other option for venues could be tents pegged on shimmering sands of Thar desert, or sprawling salt pans of Kutch . The granite-like hardness of his physique against my supple frame would ignite my passions, transporting me to dizzy heights. I would be in the throes of ecstasy and agony blended into one. To quench our overpowering wanderlust we would crisscross the globe touching some of the fascinating and rarest of destinations: Mt Fujiama, Mt Kilimanjaro, Machhu Pichhu, Bahamas, picturesque Tahiti and lots more…
Fast forward to reality. At age twenty six, when I finally got hitched, and planted my feet on terra firma, all the fantastic ideas, dreams and yearnings vanished like a bubble. The ‘Man’ in my life now was of average height and build ( taller than me thankfully). He was dark, not handsome per se but possessed a pair of deep dark eyes which were attractive enough. Horror of horrors all my romantic notions were thrown to the winds! His overtures, attitude were down to earth, minus all the frills and fuss. My husband was caring, considerate, dutiful but in a matter-of-fact manner. On top of it all, he has a shy and quiet disposition
So that’s the way it has been for nearly thirty years now. And trust me I don’t have the tiniest regret.
All in all, moral of the story: Don’t read too much of pulp fiction !
Am a trained and experienced features writer with 25 plus years of experience .My favourite subjects are women's issues, food travel, art,culture ,literature et all.Am a true feminist at heart. An iconoclast read more...
This post has published with none or minimal editorial intervention. Women's Web is an open platform that publishes a diversity of views, individual posts do not necessarily represent the platform's views and opinions at all times.
Stay updated with our Weekly Newsletter or Daily Summary - or both!
If her MIL had accepted her with some affection, wouldn't they have built a mutually happier relationship by now?
The incident took place ten years ago.
Smita could visit her mother only in summers when her daughter had school holidays. Her daughter also enjoyed meeting her Nani, and both of them had done their reservations for a week. A month before their visit, her husband told her, “My mom is coming for 4-5 months!”
Smita shuddered. She knew the repercussions. She would have to hear sarcastic comments from her mother-in-law for visiting her mother. She may make these comments directly only a bit, but her servants would be flooded with the words, “How horrible she is! She leaves me and goes!”
Are we so swayed by star power and the 'entertainment' quotient of cinema that satisfies our carnal instincts that we choose to ignore our own subconscious mind which always knows what is right and what is wrong?
Trigger Warning: This has graphic descriptions of violence and may be triggering to survivors and victims of violence.
Do you remember your first exposure to an extremely violent act or the aftermath of a violent act?
I am pretty sure for most of us it would be through cinema. But I remember very vividly my first exposure to aftermath of an unbelievably grotesque violent act in real life. It was as a student at a Dental College and Hospital.
Please enter your email address