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So. My flatmate who suffers from OCWD (Obsessive Compulsive Writing disorder) is majorly into blogging these days apart from undergoing labour exercises for the one-thousand-page family saga that she’s struggling to bring forth to the world. Her ministrations have generated enough enthusiasm among those frequenting WordPress, which has eventually inspired me enough to pull my turtle self out of her shell to share a guest blog with her. Incidentally, I happen to be the wacky flatmate she keeps mentioning in most of her blogs, and true to my wacky self, I demanded a chunk out of her own blogging page to write my first blog rather than opening a blog site of my own.

What really was the deciding factor was one of her stray comments about another friend/flatmate combo we happen to know. It went something like this: Why would any of them want to get married? They are having such fun together! And I thought: Boy, that’s so true for us too! In all of the eleven years we’ve been together, we’ve had so much fun it is almost sinful–so much so that to not reminiscence on at least some of that seems doubly sinful, even criminal. So here I am, inspired by the kaleidoscopic visions of the colourful past, present and future we’ve spent together, trying to portray a bit of the most awesome rollercoaster ride we’ve had over the years.

Being single, and sharing your single space with a fellow-quirk is an eye-opener in itself. It involves several one-of-the kind treaties being made within our shared-yet-personalized space. Terms of such a treaty involves anything from deciding who is going to cook THIS weekend, to deciding with doing away with cooking altogether and getting a cooking help instead. It involves handling each individual set of moping parents who have given up any hopes of their daughter getting married and solely blames THE OTHER WOMAN for this departure off the marital track. It involves trying to snag guys for each other and inevitably picking the wrongest one up out there. It involves laughing at the other one’s taste in men, and then inevitably picking up a weirder version oneself. It involves battling off constant ‘lesbian’ suspicions (or sometimes being too tired/intelligent to bother to refute such). It involves a constant temporariness of not ‘settling down’ in terms of contemplating possession of ‘permanent’ life items–a house, a car, a spouse. But then, there is more to it than that.

There are moments of bonding as two hardworking, deserving, intelligent women striving to make something out of their identities in a professional world with very visible glass ceilings (and often, failing to do so), moments of desperately trying to hide from office colleagues over the weekends, moments of keeping the high intellectual musings apart and sharing crass girlie jokes over an impossibly huge late breakfast, moments of pure happiness marred by a stab of an almost physical fear while contemplating the loneliness if the other one gets married or gets into a relationship tomorrow, and moments of blowing all the cares to the wind through leisurely smoke rings/ alcohol binges when none of the parents are visiting (or, more importantly, have just left after an extended period of visiting). There are occasions to celebrate when one manages to smell a book deal happening and the other gets two hundred plus views on her sole travel blog, moments of comparing notes about ‘Is is just us? or is the world downside up?’ Moments of painstakingly crafted, long-awaited travel trips taken throughout the year at the cost of gaping holes in our finances and exponentially elongated facial features of the boss at each request of a ‘combined vacation’ (‘Both of you going out? Just not feasible, how do you expect me to work this out? No. One of you can take a leave this weekend, maybe, and you can go the last weekend of the month….But Sir, we’re planning this trip together!)

All this, and more. I know several couples would identify (and add to) all that I have written above. But what is it that tells me that all these are not just my experiences alone, that a lot of this goes into making all the single ladies out there? it is not just about getting him to put a ring on it. The world functions alright, with and without rings.

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