In a recent struggle with my enduring and irrevocable singledom,
I picked up a long forgotten book from my mini (and much valued) library -
'Chasing the good life : On being single' edited by Bhaichand Patel. I had
bought this book in the super-feministic-self-sufficient-self-reliant-
egotistic-singleton phase that I went through in my second year as a
Humanities student in an all-girls college, as every girl in my situation
probably does. However, I never actually got around to reading it at the time,
perhaps because I was subconsciously afraid of the severely damaging
reinforcement that the book would prove to be to my feckless self-obsession.
I don't know what invisible force compelled me to pick up the book now, perhaps
the realization that my hopes for a man are only a flicker...
Anyhow, I randomly opened an article in the book and started reading it. It was
a woman's account of the emotions one goes trugh when suddenly found to be alone.
I could not relate to it much, except when in the end she writes-
'Of course, sometimes, not when you're down, but when you're soaring - high on a
phrase of music, or a piece of writing, or the antics of one of your dogs, or
some fragrance on the breeze - you want a partner. But somehow, no actual person
comes to mind - it's just a mental sketch of a composite creature, made up of the
nice bits of all the men that you know. Then the moment passes, and you stretch
luxuriously this way and that, quite smug and snug in your solitude.'
These few lines state my plight very well... those high moments when I read
something extraordinary, or listen to a song that transports me to another world
- and those moments are too many in my life - add to these the times when I look
in the mirror to see a fine looking young girl, and not just a face, but with so
much to say, and no one to talk to. It would be hilarious if it wasn't me!!!
But yes, at the end of the day I still bask in the glory of singledom. Perhaps, I
am not even capable of taking a man, what with all the barbarism that is inherent
to men as a species. In the last three years, I have almost been alienated to men,
and I have begun to enjoy it in a very weird way (no pun intended!). For there is
an unspoken and irreplacable comfort in sisterhood. Perhaps the reason I am still
so single, and most likely will remain for a very long time, is because I demand
the kind of intellectual sophistication, charm and gallantry that was found only
in the times of Jean-Paul Sartre and Frank Sinatra. And perhaps, I have accepted
that!
I picked up a long forgotten book from my mini (and much valued) library -
'Chasing the good life : On being single' edited by Bhaichand Patel. I had
bought this book in the super-feministic-self-sufficient-self-reliant-
egotistic-singleton phase that I went through in my second year as a
Humanities student in an all-girls college, as every girl in my situation
probably does. However, I never actually got around to reading it at the time,
perhaps because I was subconsciously afraid of the severely damaging
reinforcement that the book would prove to be to my feckless self-obsession.
I don't know what invisible force compelled me to pick up the book now, perhaps
the realization that my hopes for a man are only a flicker...
Anyhow, I randomly opened an article in the book and started reading it. It was
a woman's account of the emotions one goes trugh when suddenly found to be alone.
I could not relate to it much, except when in the end she writes-
'Of course, sometimes, not when you're down, but when you're soaring - high on a
phrase of music, or a piece of writing, or the antics of one of your dogs, or
some fragrance on the breeze - you want a partner. But somehow, no actual person
comes to mind - it's just a mental sketch of a composite creature, made up of the
nice bits of all the men that you know. Then the moment passes, and you stretch
luxuriously this way and that, quite smug and snug in your solitude.'
These few lines state my plight very well... those high moments when I read
something extraordinary, or listen to a song that transports me to another world
- and those moments are too many in my life - add to these the times when I look
in the mirror to see a fine looking young girl, and not just a face, but with so
much to say, and no one to talk to. It would be hilarious if it wasn't me!!!
But yes, at the end of the day I still bask in the glory of singledom. Perhaps, I
am not even capable of taking a man, what with all the barbarism that is inherent
to men as a species. In the last three years, I have almost been alienated to men,
and I have begun to enjoy it in a very weird way (no pun intended!). For there is
an unspoken and irreplacable comfort in sisterhood. Perhaps the reason I am still
so single, and most likely will remain for a very long time, is because I demand
the kind of intellectual sophistication, charm and gallantry that was found only
in the times of Jean-Paul Sartre and Frank Sinatra. And perhaps, I have accepted
that!
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