My Alter Egos Fascination with RED Nail polish

And when I say red, I don’t mean the darker shades of red that almost don’t attract attention. When I say red, I mean jarring, in your face, Lolita-returns-with-a-bang, Angelina-Jolie-lipstick RED. This is a relatively new thing in a series of ‘things’. It first surfaced in the middle of the wedding season back home. And far as I know it was not motivated by something. You know, the vindictive-splurge-of-anger-that-is-directed-from-somewhere-else-but-cannot-be-expressed kind of motivation. This passionate fascination seemed to be born of a sheer reckless abandon. The freefall-fun-approach to life. I notice of late she is expressing herself more and more. We were pretty much alike a few years ago. Her name and mine shared the same words. She just seemed to be reverse. (She is laughing in my head). When I got married she didn’t change her name. She kept it as it was…and to be honest thereon, started asserting herself more aggressively. She’s the reckless one. She climbs trees and bears scars like trophies. She once got a ring worm stuck in her palm while climbing the Alipur walls in the dead of the monsoon season. (She is laughing with pride.) She grew out her hair and held it up in a high pony while I tied mine in a plait. When I cut it, she wind dried it leaving it in a mass of unruly curls (she insists they looked cool). I always blow dried. She is gung ho about going to LSE. She sometimes surfs the net and finds out about courses that are related to our subject. I lecture her about propriety and priorities. We make placatory pacts about how I will let her do what she wants. I promise her, “When the time is right.”

I win mostly, you see, because I am real. I am the one who is here. But she gets back at me. She is thin and an inch taller than me. She weighs 115 pounds and is terribly sporty. Bitch. She plays tennis. She took lessons in Bahrain while I procrastinated, delaying it over something or the other. She is currently planning a sailing trip. New Zealand and Morocco top her list for tourist spots. And, she doesn’t really give a shit about people’s opinions about Australia. She insists on bungee jumping. She always surfaces when we go go-carting. She is competitive, proud and very ambitious.

I like happy ending movies. She loves science fiction. I am the light side. She is the dark, Darth Vader version of me. We both love flowers though. And we love reading. We share books very often. But she is the one who takes enthusiasm for reading to the next level. She looks up the critical notes for books we enjoy. Like, right now she hates the fact that we do not have internet. We read 1984 and she wants to know its meanings, its innuendos, quote by quote. :)

For the time being I have decided to indulge her a bit. I do put her down very often, much like a meaner, elder sibling. So if red nail polish makes her happy for the time being, putting off or making her forget (briefly) her bigger demands (requests), I can do it even if I don’t like nail polish…of any kind.
Then again, I am thinking one of these days of disappearing. I need a break anyway. Maybe she can fill in? Maybe she can make it permanent?

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