Back Off Vultures
By Isheta Singh
Success doesn’t necessarily has to be some kind of multi-pronged fork, it can have just one pointy point.
If I think I am successful, I mean I have enough money to live comfortably, to eat out once in a while, why should it matter if I am lonely as hell!
What is this weird obsession people have of finding the one true love to give their life some meaning.
Why can’t they be happy as is?
And why can’t they refrain from showing off when they do find somebody who is not oblivious to their pitiful existence?
And who the hell founded this institution of marriage..
Who the hell had that light bulb idea that one is a bad number… and everyone had to be paired to be invited to the social gatherings organised by attention seeking monkeys like them.
There is no such theorem that proves that adding +1 in your life increases your credit worthiness tenfolds.
I am alone.
And I am happy.
Nobody can deny that.
I get up, go to work, come back, don’t bother to change into nice clothes, just get into my tattered Pjs and bury myself in bed.
Then eat in bed too, whatever I want.
Nobody can tell me, “ Oh don’t eat cookies in bed, your hands will be all sticky and dirty”
Or “ don’t gorge on those garlic chips in bed,your breath will stink!”
Well.. guess what, I do not have to bother about the irritating observations and comments because I am alone and proud to be.
I can eat however much cheese in bed I want to and smell funny because I am not getting kissed in bed.
I discovered this gargantuan nugget of a truth a long time ago.
It’s better to have your mouth filled with goopy cheese than with someone else’s saliva.
I will have all my money to myself and eventually be so rich that everyone, secretly, would want to be me.
See, here is one of those cases, where the final reward is far less in value than compared to the hardships one has to go through to acquire it.
And I have tried to have it all.
I dated, and was always my best self in public. I never embarrassed anyone.
I am such a sweetheart.
If I could be a fruit, I would be a honeydew melon.
Why wouldn’t anyone fall for me?
And let me be clear here.
I work for my relationships.
I just about martyr myself.
And I have been told that I am a catch, one with a really refreshing sense of humour.
I once played a prank on my “ cuddlepoo”.
They had been saying for a long time that they wanted to go on a diet, they needed to shed some calories, but their determination always wavered.
So what did I do, I decided to take things into my own hands.
Surprised them at their home, made a whole PowerPoint presentation, full of all the sick puns and running jokes , like, how sometimes hugging them felt like being crushed by an industrial hydraulic press or how holding their slick, oily hands. with such a thick sheen of fat on it, made me feel like I was going inside a hot oil fryer.
It didn’t work.
Shoot the messenger, right!
Sometimes I cry at night.
I often cry at night.
It would be such a shame if I lived a long life and after death people recall how exceptional of a character I was. They would gather in groups and discuss how exemplary my existence had been and express their regrets how no one bothered to Date me , marry me, start a family with me.
But , alas.. it would be too late by then.
Why can’t people just admire what’s right in front of them?
Why can’t they just stop for a while and admire the beauty around them instead of chasing butterflies.
I gave these things a lot of thought and formulated a theory that , for someone to put you on a pedestal, you must have at least one of the three qualities-
Good looks, Brains or Money.
So here are the ticks in every checkbox-
I am freaking beautiful.
And if some people might be of the opinion that I am not “ traditionally “ intelligent ( which I am , of course ), they will at least have to agree that I am resourceful.
At the risk of sounding boisterous, as resourceful as Crusoe was on that
I can survive.
And last but not least, money is not that much of an issue with me. I do have that, but won’t discuss it.
Good deeds will help you in your afterlife, not gold.
So I should be rated 10/10 right.?
No, the fools still can’t see it.
So there went that three- layered theory of mine ,out of the window.
Well, the loss is theirs, I don’t mind being single.
Not at all.
I love being smitten by myself.
I am a gift.
As in, you will get me for free, if you had been good.
Single people make the world go round.
Nobody “ needs” to have someone clinging to them all the time , like some kind of gross algae.
You all can be complete on your own.
And if not, who the hell is stopping you from setting up some meet and greet where all you singles can mingle.
By Isheta Singh