Springs, fountains and horses.

I am not desperate for a marriage. Not even close. But I wish there was someone to who I could sing "un paarvaiyil or aayiram... " and actually mean the words. I wish there was someone who would write Song of Mr.Perfect over me. Yeah, like the Song of Solomon, but a bit less explicit, perhaps.
Oh I wish there was a wishing well so I could wish all these wishes. *Dear Lord! Did i just write THAT?*

Come on, I am 23, and single, and looking. But maybe I am only allowed to be 23 and single. Maybe the looking part is not meant for me to do. And maybe I should shut up about the whole thing. I mean, my best friends are still single. (That could mean my friends are losers like me, but I shall stick to the point). But they don't go to such desperate depths of blowing their noses on a blogpost about their singletude.

Yeah, so what if most of my college juniors are committed, or the people I've mentally noted as "will never find a guy in this lifetime" are hanging out with Rob Pattinson look alikes? I don't care. Maybe like Chit often tells me, I am a spring shut up.. a fountain sealed. God knows my address and my phone number and if He wants to hear me sing love songs to someone, He himself will send to me the you of Lay my love on you. If God had badly wanted to see my relationship status on Facebook as 'in a relationship', He'd have got me a job with some matrimonial site's web development team, not with this morbid office where I don't like anyone. (The converse of which also holds perfectly true)

So, someday when the prince is supposed to come on his snow white horse, he will. And till then, I am going to shut my mouth, and hold my horses... and maybe not listen to MWS.

You name it.

South Indian last names suck. Firstly because there is no concept of last names. Secondly, well, I can't think of anything. So drop that. So what we (huh!) modern South Indians do is use the husband / dad's second given name as our surname (though it sounds like a perfect first name).

I have always been scared of marrying someone with a horrible second given name which would ruin it all for me. Imagine! Mrs. Sharon Selladurai... Mrs. Sharon Jeyasekaran... Ew!

Is there some way I can keep this nightmare from coming to pass? Absolutely! There's this guy at my workplace, karthikeyan. And guess how he tells people to call him? No, not Karthik. Not even Karthi. It is 'Ke-yaan'. Yeah, the same way you would say K'Naan's name. Well, if Karthikeyan could change his horrible name to something as cool as that, Bring it on, folks!!

So what if I marry Thomas Arockiaraj?
This could well be a sentence I would hear often :
                                       Oh Hello there,  Mrs. Ockiar.

Or if it is one Sanjeev Duraisingh?
My son's teacher might just call out 'Leo Ben-Aising'.

Whoa! With such swell last names, I could even tell people my husband's great grandfather was on Schindler's list!

Way to go, self.. Way to go!

P.S : Do you think I am shallow? Then, either you have a cool last name already or you have such bad taste.

Singletude Sorrows

Chit is 44 (And trust me, She hardly looks half her 44 years). I am 23. We both can make a cover version of 'Y-O-U-N-G, F-R-Double E and and and single'. The one big difference between Chit and me is that she is the happiest single woman I have met in life, while I probably am the most griping single woman ever.

Chit never longs for Prince Charming to come galloping on a pink unicorn nor does she listen to Crying over you on repeat. When I ask her how she manages a balanced, non-whining single life, she says it's grace. Oh, no, no way. Chit doesn't Jesus juke. Ever. She has an awesome relationship with God and is almost half as sarcastically humorous as He. So that's absolutely no juke and she fully means it to be true and real.

I on the other hand, kick and scream and complain and sulk about my singletude. (Somebody appreciate my word building skills). I am tired of being single. I tell myself it is time I made the transition from Stuck on you to Gone on my playlist and perhaps choke on some apple and wait to hear horse hooves.

Or should I wait for an old lost love? Everytime I bring up Bruce in a conversation, BeyondMadness quotes Prov 26 : 11 - As a dog returns to its vomit, so a fool repeats his folly.  Maybe she is right, as always. Maybe in the process of clinging to the 'True love perseveres' principle, I am actually returning to vomit (Margin Notes: I pray I never have to write that inside **... EW!). Bruce is under the spell of the wicked witch of the north, and will probably take forever and a day to come back to right senses and me.

In other news, my parents and many relatives I had no idea existed before have concluded that I am of 'marriageable age' now. And that I need to marry ASAP and produce kids before I am 27 or my kids will all have Down's Syndrome! I mean, What on Earth!!

I don't want to marry now, people!! I want to be in love, not marriage! I don't wear eternity on my sleeve and so like all my sane friends advise, guess I need to leave the life and times of Bruce behind and live my own. But, live my own how? I can't seem to find anyone I could 'grow old with'! All those boat loads of love songs there and not a guy to sing one to me? All the people out there whose relationship status is committed and mine is still single? My Pa recharges my phone credit like once or twice a month... All my friends who have boyfriends get theirs recharged once every week... by their guys!

Maybe God hasn't given me the grace to pull through this singletude phase like He gave Chit? Well, God, if so... can you send a guy instead of grace?

P.S. :  Yet not my will, but Thine.

Switch My Foot!

One of my favorite Switchfoot songs is 'Faust, Midas and myself'. I have caught myself singing the lines "what direction, what direction, What direction now?" from that song like 200 times. (Trust me on the stats). That is an awesome band - Switchfoot. Wiki says that Jon Foreman took the term 'switchfoot' for the band from surfing to mean change and movement in life and music.

Well, change and movement are exactly the very things I want in life right now. Only a post earlier I was griping about how i wanted to do something passionately with all my heart. I am almost 97% set to switch careers. And have tried my parents to get to 20%. But what the switching career will be, I have no idea. My parents aren't happy (at all) with my wanting to work with less privileged people, leaving my "IT job". They think teaching engineering students will be a much worthy profession. But, O my soul, that's not where you lie... Sigh.

I don't know what two months after today is going to be. Que sera sera? Or should I gather the guts to learn to surf. and switch-foot.

Whilst I plunge into confused waters again, watch Switchfoot performing Faust, midas and myself with Spanish subtitles.. (This is the best live I could find on youtube)

A beautiful mind... who cares!

I watched the movie, A Beautiful Mind when I was in college and a 100 movies later, it still is easily on my five most favorites. I loved everything about it - The plot, cast, the direction, just everything. I badly wanted to be John Nash. I even pretended to be John Nash. Googled all possible anxiety disorders, and hoped I would show symptoms of atleast one. Almost all geniuses are weirdos, aren't they? And so I badly wanted some autism symptom - Maybe I could be a genius. Maybe I could be in Princeton.

 Actually, I didn't want to be in Princeton so i could write dissertations that would "fly in the face of a 150 years of economic theory". Nah. I just.. wanted to be there. Maybe so I could add 'Princeton University' in my Facebook profile's schools column, i guess.

Where am I going? This is not what I intended to ramble about.
So, I saw the movie again a week back. And it sank in - I am not John Nash. Let's face it. I am not even male! and for the first time, all my thoughts were about Alicia, the wife.
[For all you smartypants who checked wiki for John and Alicia's personal lives - I'm only writing about how the MOVIE affected me, Get it?]
 Okay, now, anyone can bet their, umm, assets that Alicia should have been a real intelligent girl to take up courses at MIT. And she probably had huge dreams, goals and all those terms they use in personality development lectures. I mean, I have dreams. An average, small town, can't solve linear equations for nuts girl... and I have dreams of coming up with some quantum physics theory that will beat Hawking's by a margin of 14 pages. (Interesting trivia:  Fourteen is my favorite number).

That being said, the question is : What happened to all those dreams after marriage? She takes care of her husband, changes her baby's diapers, cooks, cleans and works in someplace that will give her enough time for the other tasks above? You marry, put aside all your fantasies and work for the welfare of the family? And the two shall become one implies that the wife no longer has a self and lives her husband's dream? Is that it?

I don't know why I let a movie get so much into my head. I usually only let cartoon shows go that far.

I don't like Nash's beautiful mind anymore. I don't care about Princeton. I don't know why I didn't just sit back and enjoy the movie. I don't know why I was / am thinking about the fictional life of some lady I will never meet in life. I don't know why I am writing this post.

                           Bottom line, literally : I am getting old.

P.S : I am really sorry you had to read this post.