A Stopover at Gretna Green

Reading history and classic literature books have taken me to some of the fantastic places in England and in UK. One such place is Gretna Green, a village in the Scottish borders in Dumfriesshire. The visit being due twice earlier, this time around it seemed like a Divine will. Following a long day footslogging Ben Nevis, the plan that evening was to unwind at the forest bunkbed we were resting the previous night, but then an impromptu decision was made to shorten the next day rainy and arduous return home and off we were on the road. Few taps on his mobile later, B had already booked a reasonable stay at a hotel on the motorway. Unbeknownst to this place, he later told me we're staying at Gretna. And that was it; I for sure was in for some history digging the next morning

While inside this heritage place next morning, the information personnel at the door asked, ' So, what brings you here?' ‘Jane Austen’, I quipped -and that led him to conclude I was fairly aware of the antiquities of the place. Gretna Green was notorious for runaway weddings in the mid 18th century and briefly mentioned in Austen's novels of Pride & Prejudice when the youngest Bennett sister Lydia elopes with Wickham and mentions this place as her destination in her letter. Run away marriages stirred quite an excitement and were standard newspaper gossip in Jane Austen's time. Forbidden relationships and elopements were considered adventurous and also seen hyped and reflect in the fiction of the time.

As the village of Gretna Green on the Scottish border were easily accessible, eloped couples from England flocked here to get married; the Scottish laws were lenient : you could marry on the spot only requiring two witnesses and assurances from the couple that they were both free to marry. The eloped English couples preferred to keep some English marriage traditions and that called for someone in authority to perform the ceremony where the local artisans and craftsman, most often the village blacksmiths came to the rescue. This made the Blacksmith’s Forge at Gretna Green a favorite place for weddings and the tradition of the blacksmith sealing the marriage by striking his anvil led to the Gretna blacksmiths becoming known as ‘anvil priests’. This custom is still prevalent in the weddings here and the Blacksmiths Shop, where lovers have come to marry since 1754 still remains a popular wedding venue.

While inside the visitor centre, I witnessed some old telegrams displayed that were posted to the priests to annul the eloped marriage. Although one might find them amusing in today's times, it would have been gruesome for those affected by the alliance. One such telegram addressed to the priest at Gretna Green read 'MARRIAGE CEREMONY MUSTN'T BE PERFORMED. BRIDEGROOM KNOWN EXCONVICT. GIRLS MOTHER IN STATE OF COLLAPSE'. Some telegrams read the groom already being married. There are also other excerpts on the information wall that read there were a plenty of re-marriages to formalise the relationship that had borne illegitimate children; the blacksmiths surely made a fortune out of these ceremonies. Further inside in the ‘Anvil Room’ is where the anvil is, that sealed the fate of many - resides humbly in the center of the room. There is also a makeshift room on display, a provisional arrangement that was in use for the far travelled couples to stay before the wedding ceremony, the decor of the room is maintained in a fashion that seems unaffected by the time and one is surely bound to teleport to those humbling times. While times have changed, the thrill of tasting the forbidden fruit still seems alluring, the idea of romance, of stolen kisses, of secret love letters, defying society for the unwavering love for that special one - I guess nothing changes, the definition of love still remains the same. This one was for an old fashioned hopeless romantic fool in me.

All in all, it was a good day spent albeit heavy showers outside. If you find time or maybe thinking a quick nibbles on your way back home from Scotland to England, a fiver for this place with history galore is surely a good stopover.

Click Here is a quick video -

https://www.facebook.com/SweetyPatil85/posts/1915750961778178

Remembering 'Akka'

12th March 2017

Donning a white saree like Akka (my grandmother) today, it was amongst her favourite colours as she always wore self-embroidered white faux chiffon handkerchiefs with the initials on the borders always tucked at her waist. She also favoured this colour from the time she entered her widowhood until her death. Crisp white sarees, leather boots and never without foundation and a dab of perfume- that’s how most people remember her.

I have had quite a few influences in life, but it’s her values amongst many other things that have influenced me in so many ways, it would be hard to recount them all. Akka was formidable in her own way with strong opinions and convictions which I reckon comes from the background she hailed from partly because she was exposed to a liberated background that came from a father who favoured education who like her had a strong sense of individuality and also because she had responsibilities earlier in her life. My grandmother Ratnaprabha,(her real name) stood just shy of 5 feet tall but that didn’t stop her from commanding the attention and respect of all. Many a times she was mistaken for a local politician and people parted to give ways at social functions and offered chairs for her to sit. Akka got her moniker ‘Akka’, meaning elder sister in Kannada, as everyone in her household lovingly called her - servants and her younger siblings alike; she remained everyone’s Akka till her last day.

As I write and remember her today I have come to realise that she is one of those timeless people who leave their mark that is neverending. I know very few beings of that ilk. She was someone who had a strong will and determination in trying times and kept her family together and treaded through the drudgery. I hardly remember her telling me stories of hardship instead she always had amusing stories to tell about her earlier life. A zest for life and enthusiastic about learning new things in life, she was an accomplished cook and equally adroit at handcrafts, she was multitalented. A few years ago during one of our conversations she recalled my latest facebook post - a Winchester travelogue where I had visited Austen’s grave and walked John Keats’ path she fondly remembered John Keats and Wordsworth’s ‘Daffodils‘ she studied in her schooldays. Although she only studied till matriculation, her love for reading remained intact till her last days. She was someone who loved being au currant with the latest news and editorials; her favorite past time being solving those myriad word puzzles led her to possess a solid vocabulary in Kannada. Her beautiful handwriting adorn those stack of diaries which she maintained in her lifetime. I remember her often quoting beautiful lines from her diaries she collected in her being.

Today is her 74th birthday. I wish she were here on this day amongst us. Of many things that I have inherited from her is her strong sense of individuality. Being strong and believing in oneself rather than following the norms and adhering to notions of happiness created by society. By being yourself , you negate thoughts of self doubt and conquer fears she said.

I'll live those words for life and celebrate being her my own way. Happy Birthday, Akka ! I would have loved to hear a mellow 'Thank you' from you the other end of the telephone today. Miss you !

A Beautiful Revelation...

What a beautiful revelation and an absolute delight to reconnect with the legend whilst on a walk today . D.H.Lawrence, the great poet, storywriter, playwright, painter, letter-writer, literary critic and philosopher lived in my neighbourhood 10 years ago !!! Studied his poems in school and read one of his novels, Women in Love few years ago - an arduous read that took me weeks to finish rather did I push myself through it ?

His art was atypical, edgy and not for everyone to comprehend. Revered as a visionary thinker and equally lauded for his contribution in reforming the English literature; he lived at this place and penned one of his controversial books - 'Sons and Lovers' .. — at 12, Colworth Road .

Cabmen's Shelter - London & Around

One of London's last remaining Cabmen's Shelter- Standing against the busy streets of Russel Square, this small shed cuts a delightful picture. I visited one in Russell Square in July this year; another one of my vintage hidden London quests. These small green boxes which resemble garden sheds have been around since 1875 offering hot meals for men who drove hackney carriages back in those days at odd hours. 

Because of their busy locations, the shelters were restricted in their size: they could only take up as much space as a horse and cart. Today there are 13 such shelters around London serving subsidised meals to cabbies as well as public. I missed a chance to have a look inside since it was closed. Next time when you spot these, grab a bite and make sure if you're in the queue let the cabmen have a preference. #victorianlondon 

Story of a Seaman

Here in this picture --- one of his poems , me with Mr. Gates and bottom right him as a young dapper seaman. — at River Wey and Godalming Navigations and Dapdune Wharf, Godalming

Story of a Seaman (11th May 2015)

There are people whom you come across who remain unforgettable for the stories they’re attached to. While strolling around the Dapdune Wharf and the museums, I came across this gentleman at the Gunpowder exhibit room. It was a delight to meet this 83 year young dapper ex-seaman Mr.James Gates and listen to his seafares and stories. As a lover of stories- big and small,the nostalgic -me was all ears to this story of a seaman. When hubby quipped that I’m an old-time buff , he was more than happy to share the album which had snapshots and a fascinating selection of tales and excerpts of his nautical sojourns as a young seaman; of what it takes to be a seaman - to be away from a newly wedded (one-day old) wife for 18 months, the stark secluded journeys, the distant infinite horizons of sea, captures of waking up to the beautiful splendid sunrise, the longings, the loneliness , the dreams.

It was heart-warming to see the different version of poems written on the same subject - a Seagull by Mr. Gates and his wife. While he attributed his verses to the independence of being a free bird himself and soaring the skies, his wife seeked pride in her brave blue-eyed saliorman husband noting her sacrifice as negligible, for if he were bound to the mundane life of land, he would have never been of what she’s proud of.

As Mr. Gates aptly put it on his album —
Without the Sea there would be no ships,
Without ships there would be no seaman,
Without seaman there would be no England.

Salvaging the roots...

Blessings of the hometown Goddess is mandatory whilst in Kolhapur. This was a quick visit on a Friday noon and it being the day of the Goddess had long queues which meant only 'Mukhdarshana' - say hello from the exteriors. On my way back I spent some time observing these intricate carvings (unfortunately I never did before ) on the exteriors of the temple that left me quite intrigued and led me to the research I did during my last visit to Talakadu temple down south in 2013, another excellent specimen of history. A quick search on these carvings unleashed rich historic references from the Chalukyas to Adi Shankarachrya , Hoysalas and further to Cholas.

While I spend time exploring architectures and monuments in my European travelogue which I reckon as equally enriching that add to my globetrotting experiences; I regret that there's a lot that I have left behind to accumulate - - the roots that I hail from, the rich culture that is manifested in such monuments and the heritage unbeknownst. Rather late than never. While I strive to learn more about the history back home in my spare time, I plan to revisit Khidrapur and Badami temples in the proximity with similar historic settings. #kolhapur #hometownglory #historyenthusiast

PS- Please excuse my vile photography

One for Keeps ....

One of the most cherished gifts - these beautiful traditional pearl gold 'Bugadi' gifted by Akka, my dear maternal grandmother; passed down to her by her paternal grandmother which in turn was a gift from her maternal family when she was young. These will remain close to heart as they were Akka's last gift to me.

Over 150 year old this timeless and classic piece is to be worn as an ear draping in the upper most ear hole and is lined with a row of small raw oval pearls that beautifully hang from its base to add a touch of elegance .Most pearls sold today as we know are cultured pearls with the exception of vintage and heirloom pieces that are more than 80 years old. And being a pearl admirer myself,these are one of the most prized possessions I have today ....waiting to be passed down to someone in the family who deserves them. #heirloompiece #vintagejewellery #maharashtriantradition

Far from the Madding Crowd In Dorset

Ambling in the picturesque valleys in Thomas Hardy’s county in Dorset, May bank holiday was a fresh breather and an escapade 'far from the madding crowd’ in London and the swarming neighbourhood tourist spots. Highly recommended by a colleague, a native to Dorset and the recently borrowed Hardy’s book from the library had put this quintessentialEnglish countryside on my wishlist for some time now and with the nearing bank holiday it was another tick off the list. Starting off with a impromptu visit at my frequented favourite - Jane Austen’s Chawton and nibbling away at the Cassandra’s Cup, we strolled along the Jane Austen’s trail for some time before hitting the road. This was followed by a small trek at Melbury Down Estates in Dorset where the essence of Hardy still survives with landscapes right out of his novels; the green vales , the flail and flattened gorse-heaths , bees buzzing and grasshoppers around - it’s a sheer delight for ramblers and those who love a sense of seclusion. 

Fontmell And Melbury Downs

With an enthusiasm for aviators and their classy planes our next stop was Compton Abbas Airfield. It indeed was a spectacular view from this hilltop spot to witness the flying vintage aircrafts dextrously controlled. alas! before my husband hushed me into the car for our next stop. Whilst a quick seaside stroll to Durdle Door concluded the day, we were off to Brimpts Farm, Devon for the haul and looked forward to our next two-day excursion in the woods, the lovely comforting woods.

What was he painting - was it Hardy's Egdon Heath? I'm just guessing...

In the morning with the homemade farm oporridge and fresh farm honey for breakfast in the farm cottage, we were braced up for the moorland romps and the mountainous treks. With the maps on and the walking boots , we were on our way tiptoeing across a beautifully picturesque stream,wandering into the coombes, smelling the wild garlic hangs, daffodils and other spring flowers, walking alongside the grazing sheep and wild ponies strutting around, listening to the chirping of the birds, the babbling brooks, and crossing the fields to reach the village pubs for refuelling.. aah! the sun felt so warm amidst all this - the whole place shouting life ! They say walking is one of the life’s greatest pleasures, it truly is. Thanks to hubsy who does all the orienteering and is supremely great at it when the GPS ain’t working. 

Fingle Woods

One of the best walks is the Teign Valley Classic Circuit from the Fingle Woods all the way to Dorgo Castle ( the hill had kicked in by then with the previous small treks ). It’s a long arduous walk but you’ll thank me later, we cannot recommend it highly enough. 

With our muddy boots, cold aching feet and warm contented hearts the holiday ended on a good note. How I wish it never did ! 

Dorset offers a plethora of things to see, do and explore. Next time we come , we plan to explore the coastline.

Happy Father's Day, Dad!

Date- June 21st 2015

Happy Father's day , Dad ! Miss you dearly. Not only you made a wonderful father but you were a person with a heart of gold and a humane disposition of peace and conciliatory. Today, I wish I could hear you say that you have missed the flattering notes that I wrote you on this occasion. How you just laughed it off and kissed my forehead saying you were proud of me. You are missed every single day since the last I saw you six years ago, Dad. I cannot thank you enough for making me independent, choosing my life and living on my own terms defying the family norms. And thanks for imbibing me earlier on - there's more to life than being domesticated - married and having kids.

Yes,life moves on as it does with everyone : by seeking solace in the old adage -'God takes the best angels first' But, today when I look back at the wounds that scarred us with your untimely death, I just can't help but think of the drudgery we treaded through. Not only your death saddened us, but bought me to a broad daylight and practicalities of life which changed the circumstances forever. It would have never been an easy one without Mumma's willpower and fortitude in those tough times when you weren't there. For the times she has managed through thick and thin fighting against the odds with a heart of lioness and courage. Just like you always wanted me to be an equal to brother, Mumma left no stone unturned and lived by your word from giving me the independence of choosing my own life - living alone , choosing my partner and even supporting brother's independent decisions.

I’m taking this opportunity to bow down to Mumma on this day, Dad who stepped in when you couldn't be there on the most important days of our lives. I see you in her and continue to seek inspiration. And today on father’s day , I owe it to Mumma for being there and being more than a father figure. Love you both to bits.

OLDIES, THE GOODIES !

If there's another reincarnation destined for me , I would beg God to send me back to 1950s  to live in the era of Presley, Monroe, Grace Kelly,Audrey Hepburn,Jacqueline Kennedy, Frank Sinatra, James Brown, Chuck Berry, gramophones, LPs, wiggle dresses, saucer hats, lacey gloves, polka dots, cupcakes..phew ! I can go on and on...

50s was truly an ultimate era of sophisticated elegance in terms of fashion. Style icons of this decade like Marilyn Monroe, Jacqeline Kennedy, Madhubala, Gayatri Devi, Grace Kelly ,Audrey Hepburn remain  timeless beauties with their innate charm and  their subtle sensuality. They were what you would call them glamorous and the real stars in a true way- heavenly and  untouched ...something very mystique about them unlike today's bare-it-all  sexuality and obtrusive media exposure of celebrities. Maybe that's prominently why the fanfare and the adulation the celebs enjoyed in  those days doesn't exist today. The musicians  of  yore to name a few  Elvis Presley,Little Richard, The Temptations, The Doors, Jimi Hendrix, Beatles, The Drifters,Roy Orbison, Jerry Lee Lewis ,Billie Holiday, Ella Fitzgerald, Louis Armstrong  remain frozen in time The music they created is irreplacable and  listening to them on  LPs playing on gramophone is definitely an enthralling experience. I'm not dissing the newbies ; some of them are exceptionally good but most of  thr artists seem chugging out  the music that sound like everyone else.



Most of today's celebs - style icons and  musicians are transient entities.Like for example-think of white jumpsuit and pompadour hairstyle you'll remember Elvis , think of chiffon and pearls and a demure image of Gayatri Devi comes to your mind, androgynous and still sexy that's Audrey Hepburn for you  and who would forget Monroe's raw sex appeal ? They are even mimicked today and their style being recreated again. There are many out there like me who recognise and are influenced with  the style and music that defined this decade. So be it the Monroe inspired wiggle dress in my wardrobe or the 70s ruffle blouse that I got specially designed from a couturier (which cost me a bomb) , my hand painted  polka dotted storage trunk and the music collection I continue to add to my oldies collection.. ..the obsession will go on ...

Good old days and vintage is here to stay ! :)

.

The most painful day of my life...

3.30 AM , 9th September,2012

As I write to pen  this down, I fume with anger  and  disappointment strikes me once again ......

 It's been two weeks my cousin, Dr. Chetan Patil , a 26 year old  aspiring MD student studying in Bagalkot, was brutally murdered and stabbed to death  by nine men on the deserted streets of Belgaum.   REASON :he was a HINDU ! Chetan had become another victim of religious conflicts in the nation; his bloodshed body just lay there on the street in the wee hours of morning. What a draconian act  to kill a innocent passerby in the wee hours of night who's oblivious and is returning home.All in the name of Religion! Its no more a new phenomenon in the country since  thousands of innocents  have so far fell to the senseless killings.and will continue to... Wonder how people can be so radical and inhumane!

The entire incident is infuriating--- the cops trying to hide the incident by dumping my brother's dead body in a Civil Hospital  not to instigate further riots, only informing the unaware parents the morning later When contacted by these helpless parents, no hospital takes responsibility about the whereabouts of the dumped body.The  bandaged body is then handed over to the parents the next day in the noon after post mortem and the tedious investigations.....I just couldn't hold back my tears when my weeping aunt narrated the incident to me.

It's the aftermath the families of these victims  go through. Those ba****will never know my Uncle's silent cries nor my aunt's sleepless nights and what it is to lose the only child on whom they had their hopes on and their entire dream built upon.Some words of sympathy and some condolences in the press is all the power pundits could do .And that has been for years. Such incidents are a  routine affair for them.

And I'm so very sure those accused in my brother's murder will be out of  jail on bail  in search of another Chetan.I realise that this mere piece of blog is not going to humanize the laws out there nor stop those dogs to hunt down for another Chetan...And I do not know if ever there will be an end to it.

Cheti, you are truly missed...And I just can't get over the fact that you aren't there anymore.Its a sheer unjustice that we had to part with you.

God bless you for such a wonderful soul that you have always been....

I just can't wait ...

 The idea of waiting for something makes it more exciting. Ain't it?!! Fingers crossed........



 

With Half of my Heart ....

At times we  are stuck in a  sticky situation, where we are never too sure of things and can’t just let go.........I was lost in my reveries thinking about such instances in  life , while this song was on my music player.…..I somehow could relate to the melancholy of the singer and thought of sharing it here…

It’s a great song which depicts the predicament of ‘half heartedness’ a guy is going through….where half of his heart  says he should continue loving his girl , although the other half of his heart says he is not sure  and not ready yet. He hopes that in time, he will fully love her again but currently, he is in a quandary waiting for it and the wait to find out if he really loves her or should he just let this girl go and move on….

In the later part of the song, where he says "Half of my heart is a  shotgun wedding to a bride with a paper ring and half of my heart is the part of a man who's never truly loved anything" aptly deciphers the feeling he goes through.  By ‘shotgun wedding ‘ and ‘a paper ring’, I think he relates it to a fragile bond. While shotgun just goes off and paper breaks/tears easily at the first sign of stress when it's wet, torn, burned; which clearly  means a short lived relationship.

I understood this song through my own perspective. Probably the  guy was too apprehensive and didn't believe in love or maybe he loved her and wasn’t sure and had second thoughts..One moment he feels he should marry her and the other he thinks he doesnt love her because he isn't even able to do so. ….

I think we often face such situations, where  everything is so unpredictable.....  and  wait for time to unwind such questions for us …....

Just like Alice in Wonderland ....

"Would you tell me, please, which way I ought to go from here?"

"That depends a good deal on where you want to get to," said the Cat.

"I don’t much care where--" said Alice.

"Then it doesn’t matter which way you go," said the Cat.

"--so long as I get SOMEWHERE," Alice added as an explanation.

"Oh, you’re sure to do that," said the Cat, "if you only walk long enough."

Well, one relate to Alice in sooo many ways who goes through the identity crisis at times, who has her own way at looking things  and is confused with the mad, illogical world of Wonderland. I feel that in life, just like Alice we come across Mad Hatters, March Hares, and Pigeons who challenge our perceptions and shake our beliefs ....And just like her, we are left confused between sticking to our notions of order and assimilating n' accepting the Wonderland’s nonsensical rules.....phew!!!

Lets go GNO ..GNO.. GNO .....Girls Nite Out !!

Haa.. when the tough gets going, the tough gets the girls , goes shopping and crashes with a bottle of wine.And this was the theme last Saturday. My ex-roomie Punam was in town to see her newly wed chuddy buddy  Rasika (who's a lovely girlfriend of mine too) before she flies off to US to stay with her sweetheart hubby.

We decided to have a nite out at Rasika's place instead of clubbing out.And since it was the last time Punam would be meeting Rasika before her US trip, we decided to throw a surprise farewell party.
My lovely beech from Goa (Punam) got portwine no.7 and I decided to get cake for the nite. So after a evening shopping spree and  gluttonous dinner, we retired to Rasika's place.

And  the party started in the midnite which went upto the wee hours in the morning. Dollops of chocolate cream, portwine no.7 , my girlies and a Saturday nite...what else could I ask for? Here's for my spinsterhood and more such nites in my life :)

Life is a paradox… What you want, you don’t get; What you get, you don’t enjoy; what you enjoy is not permanent; What is permanent is not boring. That’s life… Ironic yet truly worth living for.

conditions apply !!

 even love comes with a tag these days... conditions apply**...

Rest is still UNWRITTEN !!

Wondering what life is at 26 !!  a paradox? ..a chase? ..a  riddle? .still trying to unravel the mystery of the so called life ...Of late it has been more of confusions and contradictions.Wondering why I feel like the most awsom-est person on the earth one moment and  a loner the next ??..at complete peace one moment and then like the most paranoid puppy on  a deserted street the next ??  Has mid life crisis already hit in my mid twenties ..Noooo !!

Life till now has been more of  a roller coaster ride with ups n'  down. taking the best and  yeah even the worst  decisions on the spur of the moment  and regretting it, crying the night away and then letting go of the melancholy with a shopping spree ;doses of caffenine n chocolates ; bitching it away with long distance gurlies  n' back with the sunshine the next day.I was more of a believer in - My way or the Highway, but of late realised that things are not easy...they never were and that the highway has more twists and turns;compromises, adjustments,endless wait  is what life about. But aint that what life is?...the other day  my roomie and I were discussing , what if we had a magic crystal ball where we could predict our future -- a glimpse at our Mr. Rights or if a promotion on cards ??..wow  , we could prioritise things accordingly. But then there's no thrill in easy sailing...what is life without challenges, without mystery; there's no fun  in giving up the chase.  Just liks Alice in Wonderland  says - "If I had a world of my own, everything would be nonsense. Nothing would be what it is, because everything would be what it isn't. And contrary wise, what is, it wouldn't be. And what it wouldn't be, it would. You see?” We live for faith, hoping the best  don't we??  It's more about treading along an unknown path ; taking the high road , the plunge..... learning, accepting, keeping our eyes open for all the wonderful possibilities ahead ,letting go and then starting afresh whilst the rest is still unwritten......

And while  Natasha Bedingfield sings, I just can't agree more --

Feel the rain on your skin ,No one else can feel it for you
Only you can let it in,No one else, no one else
Can speak the words on your lips
Drench yourself in words unspoken
Live your life with arms wide open
Today is where your book begins
The rest is still unwritten ....

THE CITY I ADOPTED N’ THE CITY THAT ADOPTED ME…

Pune - the city with pulsating energy abuzz with the vibe of young crowd …the frenzy two wheeler crammed  streets withholding its old charm amidst the antique bungalows….million impossible dreams…. career treadmills movin at a breath takin’ pace with the ever growing  hydra headed monster of technology…the daily grind of  the thousand office goers …  the city where thousands of newbies like me come with zillion aspirations to live the quintessential independent life and to have their own mark . Its the city I adopted and the city that adopted me..the city where I struggled my feet..where I discovered who I was..n began to dream where my life wanted to go..brick by brick I built my life here…and finally like after five years I feel I have arrived…I think I have come a long way and still have a looooong way to go.........

SINGLE HAPPY and INDEPENDENT ??? .....

Ahh a life much coveted for ..ain’t it? most of my committed and married friends feel envious of me for the same. My girlies sense my status of being single and earning is that of bliss...usually perceivd as lot of candlelights, freebies, networking, partying, etc etc

Ofcourse if u ask me m not gonna answer - I love my life, my job, my boss, my pay, my flat n yeah my savings r great n I have lot of ‘alpha’ men asking me out…we single women have our own share of blues. Sure, its fun we have all the liberty to do what we want; planning our activities, loads of shopping, partying at wee hours, indulging in our hobbies but with  ‘extra’ baggage . Right from paying bills (now bills include electricity, grocery, maid, milk, laundry, internet, TV, mobile etc ), managing other expenses - newspaper, rent, weekly outings, b’day gifts, gifts to be taken home etc etc …wait that excludes shopping, grooming expenses….n yeah how bout cooking meals after a loooong exhausting day (u can’t gobble hotel food more than once a day – need 2 keep a check on calories too!!) N not to forget the pleasure of cleaning when the maid is on her ‘privilege leave’ n ur roomies are too tired of doing the dishes. Grrrrrrrr…….Now U say that's quite a routine of the same old chores

And then comes the intresting part --- of men in our singledom. I may not be wrong if I say we have very few choices against the pool of ‘GENTLE’men askin us out. We are often blamed to suffer from the "Sex and The City syndrome" looking for love but being overly decisive n critical , rejecting Mr Rights left and right - if he's wearing wrong socks or shoes and  theair of independence in our head..ahh!! How wrong..I wish I could narrate more on this when my friends mock at me- ‘Seriously, how r u single yet??’…Well, it's better off being single than a wrong choice made which  follows a huge melancholy. Endless expectations and limited time is all we have..

N’ now as my current status goes - single, happy n …….… I just take a backseat and rethink- I’m out of home since last four years - for my education and now for my job and have taken all my responsibilities right from enrolling for my postgrad to the recent job I joined. Living on your own , making your own decisions is really an enriching experience. It gives us the chance to discover who we  are, how we tackle things, what we seek out of life, our expectations , our potentials and limitations . With so many sad break ups around , ’ instant ‘ relationships, a better career, i'm sure most of my gIrlies will like being  single.Why not make the most of it? So relax until your dashing knight arrives to sweep u off your feet ……

Cos if you liked it then you should have put a ring on it
If you liked it then you shoulda put a ring on it