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20 QUESTIONS

20 QUESTIONS

That article was interesting enough for me to decide to read it, though I knew it would mean late arrival at the meeting with one of my very important clients Mrs. Verma. I quickly went under the surface of glossy paper and the glossier subject.

‘20 questions you may ask a girl to know more about her.’ Really?? What kind of questions a man could possibly ask to a girl to know more about her. I was curious and could not leave this unattended.

What do you like the most about yourself?

What does the word ‘happiness’ mean to you?

What feeling do you expect from others when they see your name on their cell phone screen?

If you have to wake up as an animal tomorrow, which animal you would want to be? Why?

If you could change one thing from your past what would it be?

What habits of yours makes you successful?

Which one dream you would persuade relentlessly for the whole life?

What is your favorite childhood memory?

What does your name mean?

How do you like to spend your free time?

Are you a trouble maker for others?

What really makes you irritated?

What is your idea of a perfect day? (A day and not a date)

Who is your favorite super hero?

Do you have any regrets in mind?

What is that you would like to do, If you were a man?

What made you cry last time?

Which mistake that you have made that you would not mind committing again?

How much celebrations mean to you?

What kind of movies you like?

I got lost in thoughts while reading all these questions and somewhere started answering them within me to know more about me. Chain of thoughts broke by a phone call dialed by fancy English speaking secretary of Mrs. Verma. I was late by 12 minutes and she already got pissed waiting. (This gave me an answer to the question no. 12. Why can’t people give liberty of few minutes to others, specially when they are delayed for reading something very meaningful?)

I quickly took a click of this in my cell phone, threw magazine back to the rack placed at waiting lounge of my dentist and got on the move. My mind started calculating the total minutes adding the travel time + traffic to prepare fancy excuse to convince Mrs. Verma that I was just occupied with something very important that would benefit her. It’s around 35 minutes in all. I smiled, as a shrewd business woman after finding something very convincing to save the moment.

“I am extremely sorry for the delay Mrs. Verma; I would have not made you wait unless I would have not caught up in the arguments for few changes in your dress that Shohrab is making for you. After all it’s a dress for the ‘best business woman- 2017’ award. I cannot compromise on a single stitch even. Believe me it is an astounding look that we have designed for you. ” I was damn sure that this had to work, and we got engrossed in further planning about her overall appearance she would wear on the ‘business award night.’

“I am sure that this wait of 35 odd minutes will earn me heads turning around while I will walk through the carper to lift my ‘the best business woman’ award.” Mrs. Verma could not hide her high aspirations.

Where does she get this confidence from? May be her husband has already bought this award for her. In most cases that’s the scene, or else who will want to spend so much time, money and efforts over one ‘possible award?’

‘My dear girl focus on your work, it’s her and such people who fill your pockets and sponsor your designer dresses. Does it really matter to you if she has bought the award or she deserves it?’ my mind talked loud to me.

After this meet I landed in a coffee shop and kept looking at click of the article which acquired a corner of my mind. I could answer almost all the questions and a few I thought did not deserve my efforts. But I was stuck on question No.16 – ‘What would I like to do, if I were a man?’ I called a few of my (girl) friends to check their take on this, with a hope that I may reach somewhere.

I would want to roam around shirtless on the streets driving sexy bikes.

I would like to date with number of girls without feeling guilt or bitchy.

I would like to do highway trips without stereotype worries of a woman.

I would like to have sex with no worries of being pregnant.

I would like to smoke on the streets of city, without people giving looks to me.

I would like to earn millions for my family and make others envy.

I would like to sleep on a beach without fearing being raped……

Few more loud and feminist answers they gave but none of them could strike me or convince me.

I could not connect with any of such prominent wishes. What was it that I would want to do if I were a man? Not knowing the exact answer to this made me fidgety.

I accompanied Mrs. Verma for the award night and cheered her for winning ‘the best business woman’ award. This followed by lots of praises for my work; which definitely made me feel pride. I knew that her investment in her business glories by buying out that award (I am still not sure, if she really bought or won), would subtly grow my business. She introduced me to many influencing people whom I am sure will convert in clients in coming time.

Working for long hours sometimes tying my hair up, and sometimes letting them lose playing with my skin was making me feel so compete. Sense of satisfaction was just at pick as far as my work was concerned. Something was yet not so good inside me; this question started haunting me. ‘What would I like to do if I were a man?’

I was driving back late night from another party thrown by Vermas, this time I styled Mr. Verma too. My ultimate goal was to have a styling studio for men. My car was moved very slowly; I had no rush to reach back home. Soothing music was being played on stereo at slow volume and I was enjoying sipping my favorite scotch on the rocks.

I saw an abandoned house, shining bright behind a new halogen street light. A labor was sitting on the support of a weak wall of that abandoned house who I thought must be working for a bungalow under construction just on the opposite side of the road. That sight held me just there, I could not drive further. I stopped my car and looked at him. He was just sitting there doing nothing at all. Maybe he was lost deep in thoughts making his plans to manage to earn some extra money or was weeping silently inside his heart for all the pains he was facing or was celebrating his successful journey from a small village to a metro city and earning more money than he could have ever made in his village.

I reached back home and slept sound. I was relieved. I got my answer. ‘I would like to sit outside an abandoned house mid night with no fear of being woman if I were a man.’

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