Miss Cellany

Dear Diary,

Ah, well! The summer’s already started to make its way over this side of the earth. I am done with the never ending numbers of warm clothing, blankets and shawls. I can happily fold them up and stash them somewhere down in the cupboard and fish out my summer wear instead. However, along with the onset of the summer, the frequent, irritating power cut-outs have started as well. Only a little while ago, after coming back from a tiring day at work, I had just only settled myself in front of the television to watch an action-packed cricket match. I had caught just a little glimpse of the hunk Yuvraj Singh and was about to let out a cheer when “Poof” went the lights!!! And I had no choice but to drag myself to the kitchen, light a candle and get settled at my study desk instead with a mug of coffee.

As I took my first sip of coffee, something on the mug caught my eyes. I and my female colleagues were each gifted a mug like this a couple of days back on the occasion of International Women’s Day. Well, that was their way of showing us that they remembered we are women, after all. To think of it, all throughout the year the boss never acknowledged the women folk for their work or their efforts. As a matter of fact, who actually cared? This whole hype about celebrating women’s day, paying tribute to the women etc. etc… How much of it do actually matter? When the entire world was observing “International Women’s Day”, a young girl of 22 of a reputed university gets shot down right in front of her college in full view of the on looking public. This is what Women’s Day is about, right? (Sigh!)

And when a woman is not literally shot down, she is physically and emotionally drained out all the same. A look at the piled up dirty dishes in the sink – to be done by mother or me and a recollection of the ever piling files on my office desk make me mentally groan. And that’s just one kind of piled up work a woman faces daily.

Well, that’s the life of a woman, Dear Diary. We have to live through it all the way it is. This also reminds me that I have to get geared up for the Holi as well. Ummm, not because I am scared. But I hate getting smeared on by colored water balloons that appear out of the blue at the weirdest moments. Just today when I was leaving office during lunch hour with my good friend Mr. *****, what I feared exactly happened. Yes, I was hit by a water balloon. Splash! And damn! I could not even locate the culprit. All my good friend did was have a good laugh at the whole thing. Not that he did not offer me a lift to my place for a quick change. It’s a different matter that I declined his offer and stubbornly went back to office refusing to change into clean clothes or to have lunch. Of course my colleague only saw it as good fun. Oh! Why couldn’t those urchins throw that balloon at him instead? But of course, he was not the W.O.M.A.N…

What else can I say Dear Diary? These things have become a part of life by now. I hope, some day, the tables will be turned. I don’t know when, but some day it will happen. Well, for now, I am going out to get some shopping done. I need to buy a new set of wardrobe and yes, a packet of balloons, and some good, lasting colours (*wink*). They complain about our shopping splurges, those men who fill our lives. But I tell you, nothing better than retail therapy when one is most grumpy. After all, why should boys have all the fun?

See you around.
Signing off,

Miss Cellany… 

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