Dear Dehi Girls and
Even if my pores are the size of craters on the moon and my pimples the size of ostrich eggs or If my hair looks like straw that reminds you of your horse riding days or if my ass is a sagging bag of cellulite and I cause a bigger splash than Moby Dick when I jump off my diving board or If I look like I spent a summer locked in a jail cell with nothing to eat but salt and bread or If my skin around my eyes have "early signs" of crows eagles and pigeons feet or if my teeth stick out and my breath reeks of whiskey and peanuts or If I have stretch marks under my phelwan arms or if my underarms aren’t perfectly waxed or if my shoes aren’t designer and my nails are acrylic and if I am sprouting hair from my chin or my eyebrows aren’t arched enough or if I am 35 and he still hasn’t “put a ring on it” or I am having triplets out of wedlock or If I wear the same dress 11 times and I have a bulge that isn’t a baby bump or if I have a jay leno chin and cock-eyed breasts or if I am sleeping with the entire cricket team or a guy who weighs as much as the entire team or if the color I’m wearing brings out my squint or the mole on my upper lip looks a little less Cindy Crawford-ish and a little more like the animal or If my panty line is showing or my padded bra seems “ a little too padded” or If I grunt while I laugh or curse like a sailor or ten or If my toes aren’t manicured and my nail polish too red or if my dark circles remind you of the last solar eclipse.... Please for the love of Bhagwan, mind your own business. Your Beeswax. Your beejnes, jee.
Just keep your ugly thoughts in your well groomed- in- a- parlour head, and stop bitching, commenting, cackling, looking up and down and all around.
Maaaan you women, give the rest of us a much needed break.
A miffed and disillusioned Delhi Woman.