Tag Archives: being a writer

I want to marry a rich guy!

“I want to marry a wealthy guy,” says no woman ever. But, only, explicitly. Though many instances in my life made me think about this subject, the one that gave me enough thrust to start penning this blog post is the image below.
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To share a few real life incidents:
  1. I told to one of my friends that I would like to travel all over India and a few countries if possible and immediately she said “marry a guy who is in the US,” you can travel all over the world. It hurt me because, according to me, I should go around the world with my money.
  2. Judge me if you want, I’ve survived two break-ups. One was intense that even families knew and approved. It was a long distance relationship, and so, once he presented me an iPhone. After a few months, when the relationship didn’t work, and when I wanted to call it quits – he emotionally threatened me that he loves me so much that he presented an iPhone. Not just him, his family and even my family said the same again and again. It threw me aback that everybody equated love to an iPhone. (I threw em, and the one I use now is my own)
  3. I had this habit of posting my restaurant trials at a Facebook group called “Where Chennai Eats,” that’s how my Ex got caught, though. His sister stalked my profile and found that we frequently meet. He casually told me that his sister warned him not to spend a lot on food. We usually go Dutch – we share the bill, but, he didn’t inform that to his sister. We fought on this, and he said it is an insult to tell that he is not spending on me
  4. My friend’s sister did like a guy – tall and handsome, smart and witty, and what not? When we probed why she rejected him, she said his bank balance is low, and he is still in a rented house and owns no piece of land
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I observe a lot, introspect, and retrospect, I find that most guys spend a lot for their girlfriends, they love doing that. They think it is man enough and pick the bill every single time. But, when there are issues and if they break up, the guy easily says “She was with me for the money,” to pacify himself. This crept in, and now, most guys use this phrase.
For, almost all my college mates are married, most of them are in US, UK, Australia and the likes. Maybe, yes! But, it is not just her choice but also her family’s that they want a well-settled guy. (Well-settled meaning – who owns a bungalow or at least a piece of land, a luxurious car, salary package that’s more than sufficient for 2, etc..) just worldly pleasures.
It’s been long that I heard someone saying “I want to marry a guy who will keep me happy,” or “I want to marry a man who struggles in life to give my support and help him achieve his endeavors,” or “I want to marry the one who loves me,” etc..
Am 27 year old now and though I don’t want to get married – in the worst case, I always wanted a matured guy who can handle what I am. Because, there were alliances that rejected me stating my social media profile has 2500 friends, a few said that a writer would mostly talk a lot of rules and laws, and a few, of course, said am fat, etc..
I got a friend recently, and we found that we share common interests and, we spend more time these days. Once he blurted that he is not committed yet because he is afraid that a girl might love him for his money.
I am extremely nervous about it; I am always conscious to repay or share the expenses equally so that no guy that I know would ever say that I am with him for his money. It is more of an obsession these days!
There are movies that subtly show a rich bald guy marrying an utterly beautiful girl. The equation of rich & ugly man marrying a pretty girl is strengthening day by day. A covalent bond!
I wouldn’t blame anyone. I am not concluding this article with any specific pointers. While I write my micro-mini HeMeStory tales – I ensure that I hurt none. I want men, women, and transgenders who read my micro stories to smile and feel glad. But, many guys in list bash women – they write about a woman being gold diggers. Many women writers in my list bash men, stating they would do anything to get laid.
Taking sides would give us hashtags like Feminist, Feminazis, Menist, etc..
I don’t want to be any!
Can we all just ditch the worldly pleasure and focus on co-existing? To just live happily? To just ensure that we all born to learn something and to teach the same to someone else before we leave?

The pain of being a writer – Self-torture, affliction and desolation

Been two weeks that I quit my full time job, been two weeks that I turned a full time writer, been two weeks that I received 400 odd likes for that “Left my job” post on Facebook. But, it’s been a while that I took this decision and I wanted to give this a shot. A leap that was unexpected and a step that is supposed to feed my soul.
I am a complete weirdo – I don’t know what I want. It takes me a slip to understand it, be it the unwanted B.E degree or the choice of choosing the only choice I had – IT field that fed my wants, a relationship where I didn’t have an expectation, but ended up being treated wrong which apparently led to a list of expectations that I should have probably had up front. So I am a mess! I don’t know when I thought or started believing that “Writing is my calling” – nevertheless, that’s my solace. The white blank MS word with which I am “me”
I would now miss the smile when my bank account gets credited, I can no longer scroll the online shopping apps and order clothes of my choice, I can no longer go out with friends and spend for myself, I can no longer buy my own books but look for eBooks and Torrents to download, I can no longer get back to the lavishing me again. I can no longer walk with heads held high, calling myself a career oriented woman. I have lost it all, in one decision of mine.
Ever since, slowly the pain has started catching more fire. From the one who decided to quit my job for writing – I turned the one who is not writing at all except for a few micro tales and yes, I chose to freelance. Freelancing for money – spend hours writing on stuffs that are totally unrelated and out of the blue – bingo games, sex toys, drug trends in Philadelphia. I do write, but goddamn, it makes no sense to me.
What will I do? I have to pay for my editor who will clean my pathetic grammatical errors and let my manuscript shine, I would never let my book reviews to have “Pathetic editing” as a frown factor. How will I pay them? I have to pay my cover designer who spent hours illustrating what’s in my mind and how I will I ever pay? And oh, the marketing guys who tweet and Facebook about my book – how on Earth will I pay the big fat money? Oh! But for all this, my book should get published.
How will I turn off my friends who would ask for free books. “I need an autographed copy,” how sweet of a way is it to ask for a free book? Well, am a budding author, I can’t shamelessly ask them for money, they are going to spend time with my books out of the million books available on Amazon.
How will I pay the courier? How will I pay for the PR guys? – Everything about publishing my book is about money except for returns. I laughed out loud when a website that self-publishes book read “Usually the author gets 20 INR for each copy that gets sold, but since we distribute it across, it is better if the author bids lesser for their royalty” Isn’t it funny? I would spend my whole freaking time, writing – deleting – writing again – deleting again – writing. And then shape it better – shape it much better – shape it to the best of my capabilities. And send it to my editor – fight with the editor like crazy and get the best freaking manuscript, but then make 20 INR for every copy sold. Am not Chetan Bhagat to sell  a million copies, I am not sure if any traditional publisher would ever accept to publish my book, am not sure how many know me as an author, maybe! Tomorrow even if I cross my own book at a bookstore and wait for hours, I would still not met anyone who picks my book. Oh my God! Am I a failure? Did I turn down a job that paid half a lakh per month for this?
In want of money – will I ever write only about online frigging games for life? In want of readership – will I stick to publishing books churning my own money? In want of friendship – will I stick penning leave letters and love letters to all my friends. Will I only be a freaking showoff material of my friends who say that they know an author?
Am afraid – what if my posts offend someone? Am afraid – what if someone points a grammatical error in this post, it would affect my reputation. Am a freaking writer – I can’t make mistakes, can I? What if I offend every other person?
Am torturing myself with these questions. This isolates me! I spoke out, I told my friends – “Get married,” they say! Marry a rich fat guy who will feed not just me, but even my publishing dreams? Oh yes! What if he loves me enough to start a publishing company himself? Oh wait, how about dating a publisher itself? Or an editor? Or a cover designer? – Oh, these freaking thoughts! How can I just get married to stay fed. Dad feeds me, yes! What if he falls sick? What if I had to take a stand? What did ‘writing’ do to me? Pain, pathetic pain!
Why did I write this post though? Did I take the wrong decision? Why is ‘writing’ not paying my house rent? Why are authors in movies and books turn bestsellers’ and millionaires? Wont I ever make it big? Will my next generation know me as an author! Oh my family tree, if you ever feel that you have a flair for writing – kill that thought instantly. Don’t be a frigging failure!
Phew! Writing this made me feel better – off to writing about some online bingo games, yo!
Done ranting!
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Author-Writing-Blogger – In short: A piece of shit!
–Kavipriya Moorthy