Dil Kya Chahata Hai????

Nothing said or done can make me feel guilty about "getting inspired" to use (read steal or copy) a not so original title of a cheesy and not surprisingly not very successful "Comedy". (Too many negations- ma kasam, but I'm not in a mood to be the optimistic sadhu found primarily on Kailash Parvat, close neighborhood of Shiv Shankar Bhole Nath)

Coming to the post title, I really wanna know... Dil Kya Chahata Hai. About me, deep down I vaguely know wot I want from life but the problemo is that my parents particularly my Dad is not so sure about wants, when it comes to his darling daughter.

P.S.: For those of you judge-mental types who just considered me as the Little Miss Ungrateful, Public Blog Pe Dad ki Burai karne wali Chudail; I have news for you... I don't care wot you or anybody else says. I'm frustrated, mera blog hai, meri marzi hai, padhna hai to padho warna do wot Komal Chautala most lovingly says (or advises).

I'm a 22 year old working woman (I love calling myself that), who successfully graduated and unsuccessfully gained a PGD for/ of an industry which pays lower than the amount paid to a local mistry working on a construction site in You Ass of Aeyee!!! I know that I need approx. 2 years of work experience, above average/high scores in GMAT n TOEFL/ IELTS to gain admission in a good B-School offering Masters in Finance Administration/ Management and also sufficient (lots of actually) money to apply for an education loan to study MBA. The education loan that need, applied not by my Dad, but by me.
The other 2 requirements will be faced in due course of time, but about the one regarding the Work Ex, shouldn't my work ex be w.r.t. a job/profile that I like and also justifies my qualification???
But my Dad n I beg to differ (thats euphemistic on my part) at the last clause and that is the sole source of inspiration to me for typing this post (that perhaps nobody may read), at this hour with as painful eyes as that of inmates of the Concentration Camps.
About my work ex details, I previously worked (or as I thought I did) in a place where my boss was just as nice as Dolores Umbridge was to apna Harry Potter (Yeah I'm obsessed with the HP books). So the poor innocent (also read stupid) me had to quit the job with a multitude of regrets along (not about leaving the job but about being so stupid).
But I trust, it was not an extraordinary thing as the Hailey's comet was/ is/ wotevr!!! Many people get fooled at work/ in the world. But the trick is to learn from mistakes and not repeat 'em. Fine..... Agreed... Not found any argument against that. Now I work at a place that neither offers the brand association that I seek nor a great remuneration nor Saturdays off (as I desperately want). Wot it offers is a good profile and I believe that would be integral (hopefully) when I apply to the B Schools of my choice.

Coming to the problem (finally !!!) Dad's unsurity about my career. Like I mentioned, "we beg to differ". Since my return back home, with the unsuccessfully gained PGD, Dad's been advising me to change to more easily identified Cos. So much that I even forcefully (after a big family episode of tu-tu-main-main, emotions, drama, tears, anger, etc) answered a stupid test that I neither had chances nor inclination to pass just to change to a more recognizable job, even if it means NO JOB SATISFACTION, the label of a JOB HOPPER, and joining a job for which I am overqualified. Never really thought I'd say that.

Dad k 5 khawab about his delicate darling daughter:
1)Join SBI ka PO or any other bank
2) Ditto (1)
3) Marry someone from the Health-care Industry (preferably Doctor) since both will be from the same profession (Completely diverse from the previous mentioned khwaabs). Also continue in the same industry since it will go into the boom phase soon.
4) if 3rd is to be achieved then continue in the same industry and do MBA from a foreign university
5) Pursue MBA in Finance from a foreign university (Again Contradicting to Khawab #4)
Even though he fantasizes fulfillment of one or more of the mentioned khwaabs, I don’t remember him ever asking me about wot I desire to do amongst the ones mentioned, though I have made myself clear about pursuing the 5th one to which he agrees (dunno by how many percentages).

More so like the typical fathers of under-aged girls, from the villages of UP, Bihar, Haryana, Rajasthan, etc who marry off their girls to men older than themselves, considering it to be best in the interests of the daughters, oblivious to wot she really wants.

So how am I to be termed as an EDUCATED WORKING WOMAN if I am not allowed to think for myself, decide the course of my future and laugh over my mistakes- ready to make new ones; if terms are dictated by my father, clearly without my consent or desire?
Why is it, that my father wants me to be everyone from Kalpana Chawala to Sania Mirza to Kiran Bedi to Indira Nooyi, but just me? Why is it that I am not allowed to use my brain, without reluctance from him, to the best of my knowledge? Lastly, why do I get the replies to all these questions as “You have turned more arrogant and egoistic since you started working!!!”???? (reversions from both Mom and Dad, who unite like USA & UK on such issues).
I guess these questions to me are just as many of those questions to scientists all over the world, which make them spend sleepless nights in the fascinating (mind-numbing to mediocres like us) laboratories and find vague plus tricky or even wrong answers to which earn them rewards that the common man could never hear of.
Weather they sleep or not, I don’t care. I will sleep now, looking forward to more rows of arguments, wasted emotions and sentimental blackmailing by me, mom and of-course dad about Me, Myself and My Career or Careers- Another “inspired” phrase.

Where or How do i draw the line????

All those who suddenly remembered and intended to introduce me to the wonderful tools called pencil (perhaps pen), a scale or a piece or paper, have the best chances of making it into the corridors and seats of the Indian Parliament. Laalu k saath chaara khane, dabaane n bin dakaar k hazam kar jane k phaarmula seekhne k mast chances hai. Gattu style wale mast!!!

But for all those, who have succeeded in following my trail of thoughts, I really wanna know, How, When and Where are people supposed to draw the line between being FRIENDS/ GOOD FRIENDS/ FLIRTS and LOVERS? How hard or easy is it to convince oneself or the other person (same or opposite sex, considering hum ek broad minded society mein rehne ki nakaamiyaab koshish kar rahe hai) that I like u (as a good friend) but don’t love u… hoping the “other person” will not be a lost friend by the end of the explanation.

Hoping that my blog’s readers (if any) would have realized that I am trying to find answers to questions, about situations not imagined but that which I have actually been in. To cut the crap, he was one of my best friends, without any second thoughts of being any other relation, even momentarily. Never imagined that such a wonderful and tranquilizing association would end up with such a magnitude of damage.

At the risks of sounding an absolute narcist, I don’t care if the entire episode hurt him or not. Point is that he hurt me INTENTIONALLY again and again and again and again. I was more or less a doormat full of filth from his shoes.

It’s not a sin to like someone and definitely not abnormal (in fact it is brave) to disclose such thoughts to the person in question. And I also believe that you are lucky to find another person who can help you through and through in winning over your love interest. But the worst can be- when you are a big, lousy (also fat, I love calling people fat, since I neither am nor have any remote chances of being fat) coward if:

a) You cannot express your feelings to your “love interest”

b) You start avoiding him/her so that you can get over him/her

c) Lastly, you are a big creep if you start using the helpful friend (as mentioned above) as a rebound.

These are the exact things, what “Mon Ami” (I recently started learning French to show off karma compulsory hai) did.

Kindly (a word, I use quite frequently ever since I entered the corporate world) try and imagine what kind of a messed up situation the helpful friend (me of course- who else, Einstein??)is in and sympathize with me (and find me a good lawyer) if I end up behind the bars (jail bewakuf- 5 star nahi) for killing my ex best friend no. 5.

I never imagined single-hood can be so dangerous and demanding to turn one wild and desperate to find a “love interest”, probably to convince oneself ki main bhi mard cum chick magnet hu (murgi k bachcho ki baat nahi kar rahi hu main). But then again, I am no JK Rowling. In fact even the inspiration and imagination to type this useful and pivotal blog was…. not my brainchild but that of another fellow nameless, faceless blogger plus my best friend no. 1 (yes, I have many best friends, all numbered in order of them associating with me- as friends not what a perfectly normal and chaste pervert would think).

I mean look at me…. [Matlab imagine my situation, not ki deede phaad phaad k meri taraf ghooro as if I am the first alien from the moon (presence claimed by none other than Aaj Tak- Sabse Tez) who visited the earth to catch a glimpse of Govinda in Hatya.] I am 22, single, a working woman (sounds flattering) who plans to build a career by making money for the extremely disorganized (sachchi.. kasam se… apne Papa se pooch) Indian Healthcare Industry.

Mera bhi man karta hai ki baaki sundar and susheel ladakiyon ki tarah mera 1 boyfriend ho jo mujhe roz Mercedes mein ghumaaye, mujhe Leela and Taj mein lunch karaye, L’Oreal k cosmetics dilaye aur mere saare nakhre utthaye. Bas… itna sa khwaab hai. But filhaal ye DDLJ ki Lajo k wo sapne hai jo dekhe to ja sakte hai par unke poore hone ki sharat nahi lagaye ja sakti (lagi 5-500 ki???), at least zindagi k agle haseen 3-4 hardwork se bhare saalon tak.

But do I find myself seducing my friends to get a sure shot beau???? Honestly, NO!!!! To a small extent, I am aware (not Sure… but aware, over confident thode hi hu) about how n where I intend to reach, to be content in life.

Zindagi mein pyaar zaruri hai, but not at the cost of friendship. Friendship is as important (if not more) as love. SRK and KJ jaise useless; but rich log bhi yahi kehte hai.

I admit.... I miss him. He, who was my friend, but could never have been my Romeo or My Knight in the Shining Armor. I miss the endless conversations; the spontaneous and entertaining fights, the accusations and the affection (not love).

Like many others, even I carry a set framework of my better half and yes …. He wasn’t qualified enough. Plus I’m not desperate to catch hold of anyone around and start an affair.

All in all, the only 3 regrets are- to trust an acquaintance to be a friend, to let him hurt me… to not have realized, when, where and how; I should/ could have drawn the line.

(And a desire- I wish I could find him and pay some bhaade ke tattoos, a hefty sum as a supari to have him hung over hungry sharks, in any ocean possible)!!!!