I think this post is going to be a long one.. a really long one. (or maybe not.) So many things just happen at the flick of a finger! I had a long frustrating day at work last night and my welcome break met me right after. He is my only guy friend who says all those sweet things to me (Oh don't think is hitting on me!) and he is the one who comes to see me at my beck and call. He is the one who does not say how sick I look at the end of the day and proudly parades with me around the town with my ruffled hair and smudged kohl. He doesn't complain when I wear mad t-shirts and does not ask me to chuck my ugly laptop bag. He drives me home no matter how drunk, lets me ride his bike and lets me sing loud in the middle of a crowded street with my ugly voice. He shares ice-candy with me and tells me he knows that I wax. 

So anyway, now the world knows of the one nice friend I have here in this quaint little town! We went for a drink and decided to try the favorite drinks of rockers! We ended up guzzling "Screw Drivers" and the "Screw Drivers" screwed us! We were mighty drunk and 10 Kms away from home! I drove his bike and sang songs full pitch! He dropped me home, I had some yum dinner and went up to my room trying to crash. And then I get a call from the Randomer. Randomer was drunk and so was I. We spoke for about 3 hrs and he told me things that fuckin shook me. Shook me so bad that I could not sleep all night. While I went on and on about how I want to be a paint-scrapper, he listened to me with never-seen-before patience. He not once made fun of me and kept saying hmm. hmm. hmm. He even promised getting me a freakin spatula to help me scrape off the paint! Now that is what I call sweet as a pie. :)

After I was done and convinced I can be a paint-scrapper he decided to speak. And when he spoke, I heard. I heard with all the amazement and shock. He narrated first hand experiences about life. I saw him beyond being narcissus and a probable AIDS victim with his 23 girl friends history. I saw him beyond being a Mech Engg and beyond a stupid-but-dateable-city-lad. I saw the him who thanks God for all that he has. I saw him beyond being a great singer. And that is when I thought I should probably re-consider being a paint-scrapper. 

But wait, I could not consider that. I could still not convince myself being the big CEO with a dream car that I can't drive and rear kids who would probably be rich and spoilt brats and will curse their mother for being career oriented and for not giving them enough love and attention (all this in a car I would have bought for them!) I do not want to be a CEO because after I have become one, I will want to be a bigger, better CEO. 

I don't want to be the pseudo, hep, new-age Indian girl who is a CEO, drinks socially, smokes compulsively, hits men below their belt in board meetings with her power packed presentations. I don't want to be an ideal daughter, jet-setter, hi-flier with fancy apartment in downtown New York City. I don't want invitation passes to Yanni concerts. I don't want to wear that Black Gucci crisp suit and carry the latest Tommy Bag and go to Hawaii for a rushed vacation. 

I'd rather scrape paint off walls, wear plastic flip-flops, earn Rs 20 a day, eat for Rs. 5, save the rest 15 and make myself a mud house with my savings after 15 years. I just want to be a paint-scrapper in a village where the local doctor and the collector bring me books to read from the nearest town. Yes, that is what I want to be Randomer. Let me know when you have reached to the top of the Maslow's hierarchy theory. I wish you could gather the courage to be a clown.