The other day Dad and I were discussing about one of his clients and he said to me,’ You don’t get it. Most people perceive as very mysterious. They are very curious about you because you are not stereotypical. Sometimes, they like to deal with you because of this reason and most of the time they like to talk about you, for the same reason. That’s just the way it is!’ It had an air of finality, his statement. Like, you just got to live with it! I was told the same thing by a spiritually inclined lady, more than a decade ago.

So, does it bother me? Hmmm. Honestly, after three decades, I’m still not used to it. It does make me furious sometimes, when people comment on my sexuality because they can’t figure out how a person can look at both men and women with the same level of fascination? Or when I get labelled a cougar because I openly claim to like younger men. Come on, I dated the older ones before I hit 25. It’s not just my love life, people have been strangely curious about what I do, how and with whom. I don’t make it easy, I guess, with a nature which is ambiguous.

Am I going to change? Well, you know what, about an hour ago, I drove into my petrol pump ( not mine but since I am a creature of habit, I have a favourite gas station, fav flyover etc etc) and just as the car came to a halt, I realised who was parked right next to me. One guess, yes! So, I turned my head, as much as I humanly could to the other side, to avoid looking at him. The ghost of my past, sat perfectly happy with someone, who looked very familiar, in his God forsaken car.

‘Stay cool’, kept mumbling SB, repeatedly. Of course, as soon as he drove away SC, went nuts. So, Super Clingy, who was at the forefront of that relationship, is the one to blame for this nonsense. If Super Bitch, had been allowed to come out more often, like most of the men she encountered in her life, this one too, would have been chasing her, like there’s no tomorrow. But no! He saw the other one with such frequency, begging and begging and begging some more, ‘ please, please, please ‘ that he and I both forgot, it was just one tiny version of me. Of course, he only saw that in private, since in public all the versions of me, want to play, stud.

So SC has of course gone to the dark place she frequently visits, crying her eyes out and mocking SB, ‘two days, it takes you, two days to get over, everybody. How long has it been, almost four years, since the last time you saw him?’ ‘ So out of billions of people, only the memory of three has been tattooed on my body. Big deal!’ replies SB. I love this one, she keeps me going.

And about being a mystery, only once in my life I have tried not be. I was predictable and as easy, as it was possible for me, to be. I really tried my best, as much as I could, as hard as I could and as long as I could. I wasn’t perfect, I made plenty of mistakes but God knows, I can’t try harder than that. But I failed, miserably. So, I don’t want to, anymore. Plus, I don’t want to be with someone who gets me. I want to be with someone who will try to and then keep it a secret from me, how much he gets me because knowing me, I will upset the apple cart, if he tries to tell me, what he gets.

But tonight, all the versions of me, just need a drink and SC needs someone to tell her a fairytale that will put her mind at ease.