Blogger’s Challenge 19: Gender Swap
This blog (which, by the way, is my inaugural blog) is for the Blogger’s Challenge set up by Sophie and Co. I hope I do pass in flying lipstick and eye-shadows colors! Here goes, my first attempt at dipping my toes into the giant puddle of WordPressing:
When I woke up As a Girl:
Yeah. It was Christmas. It was the day when all your wishes (that is, if you had cast them on Christmas Eve) would be fulfilled. As usual, I had deluged the already overflowing wish-receiving-mind of Father Christmas with the usual requests and a special one too. The normal requests, well, you can guess, were – winning a lottery, becoming a celebrity, getting an Aventador, etc. etc.. But the special request well, was, becoming a girl. For a day. Not a second more, but maybe a few hours less.
Yes, you did read those last two sentences right. And as you are reading it I am pulling off my hair sticking off my face, making my way to the washroom for my early morning routines. Yeah, brushing, washing, showering with deodorant. Oh! Sorry! Spraying some deodorant for the un-announced visitors. Precautions, you see.
What?!!?!? Hair on my face? I do remember Mom telling me last night on Skype to cut it off and if I didn’t she would get a flight to New York just to do that. But, SO long? Wait…. “Oh mirror! Oh, mirror on the wall…” Wait again, why am I singing a girl’s favorite phrase. Whatever, brush. Mirror.
I… dont.. look… like… me. I do.. but I don’t. I had long hair (I always wanted that, but not so smooth and silky, I wanted rough and tumbled), smooth skin and what not! This was not certainly, my idea of a snowy Christmas.
By the way, I do hope that you remember the reason behind the apparent lack of my absolute blabbering in such a baffling situation. I wished for this! I did so, because I wanted to make the girls in my college understand how a girl should be. But, umm.. there was a problem again. I wished so, while I was sleepy (really sleepy, mind you) and so I forgot to also put that tiny star (*) above my wish for that “Terms and Conditions apply”. I wanted to take the place of a girl in my college, not become a girl, an entirely new one on the face of this earth where there were already enough to take away men’s peace and calm for centuries to come.
Whatever. You wished for it, you got it. Now go through it like a good boy, err… girl. Mom always told me, if you wish for a gift and you get it, never grumble that it isn’t good enough. I bet she never wished to become a guy. Now as a girl, my common necessities came to the fore. That is, thinking about, guys to talk to, makeup and clothes to wear.
Wait, I can’t go out like this. People will think I (the male me) just agreed to act like a girl. No. I am staying in today and thinking about the differences between the choices to be made as a girl and a guy. A lovely Christmas melting away, like the snowman I made yesterday night.
But no, I mean, yes. Aaargh! This girl thing is meddling with my brain. I meant that, that is the right thing.
As a guy, I have often criticized girls for taking hours just to get ready for a casual outing. Now I think I may have to get an apology template ready for all the ladies in my life, from my Mom, no wait, Grandma, to my little cousins, to apologize for that mistake. With this much of free flowing hair, I would take hours to set it right and ready for the harsh outdoors.Moreover as the fairer folk, ladies (or even girls) would need to make sure that they act their kind and be prim and tidy, not rough and chiseled. That’s one aspect, I truly realize now and i assure you that my apology will truly encompass my feeling of guilt for accusing you of slowing us all down.
Then another, I always say you often tend to sit and gossip and gossip and…. gossip. But then, now that I think, what exactly do guys do? Sit and talk about girls, about the car that other guy bought, the newest and the lowest jeans, and what not. And how exactly is that different from what girls talk about? Its only that they talk more about it. In built mechanism, we cant really change much about that.
But with these many things, my day, during which I had remained confined to my room, seems to be drawing to a close. And as per my wish, (in which I had luckily asked Father Christmas to take away the girl part from me by sunset so that I would have ample time to call Mom, before I turned in for the night), I started becoming the good, old me.
Filled with a growing amount of understanding, I realized that once in a while, such an enlightening experience is always good for the souls of all men who always criticize the women in their lives. Ahh, there is the phone ringing, Mom’s here.
“Hello Mom!”, said the wonderfully-returned-to-manly-state-me. “Hey son! Its me, your Dad!”, said, my…. Dad (who else??!?). “Hows your Christmas going?”, asked Dad. I replied, “Better than ever”, I replied, with a sly grin. Not to miss an irregular beat in my voice, my suspicious Dad inquired, “How so??” “It was great, Dad! Hows Mom?”, I countered. “Oh! She has been gossiping with your Aunt since an hour. Thought I would give you call.”, replied Dad.
Then I realized, that a great many men may turn to women the next Christmas, after reading this blog. Maybe its time you pressed that shiny red button, right in the corner up there and went off to sleep, hoping that this was all a bad memory but a good lesson.
Signing off, as a good man, taught (unforgettably), how tiring it is to be a woman and how selflessly they help us out,
A very sleepy D.