A Girl Of Seventeen

*A Girl Of Seventeen*

I was born in 2002 and the present year is 2019.    I am probably lucky that  God brought me into this universe,  into Milky Way galaxy,  into eight planetd solar system,  on the earth,  in Asia, in India,  in the valley of kashmir and among the people who think the summary of their religion and culture is to minimise the freedom of a girl child to the best of their ability. I wear,  walk, eat, sit, stand,  talk, read,  cook, and watch the things of "their" choice,  not of my choice.  The only verse that has been recited to me almost daily is " You are a girl and you have to go to your in-laws someday" . Having carved the same verse on the gate of my brain,  I have been staring at every smart boy on foot,  in the  car or mounted on the bike and every big house that crosses on my way .  I also imagine the doctor I am taken to for treatment when I  fall ill,  to be my Prince charming probably.  I dream of marrying the cute guys I watch on the TV screen. I take fancy at my cute male schoolmates and smart teachers.  With the same verse in my mind and the main purpose of my life (  marriage)  in my head,  I have made a long imaginary  list of guys,  one of whom, I half hope or over hope to marry some day.  I don't see how wise,  tall,  rich,  educated,  good,  or bad a man is.  I only think  whether he will be a good or better husband for me or not.  Whether he will fulfil all my small and big dreams or not.  Whether he will love me and interact with me they way my dad does to my mom or my cousin does to his wife,  or our neighbour,  Liyakat Hussain does to his wife or not... and the stuff.  I keep on comparing and contrasting the men (my prospective husbands)  on the  basis of  their being good husband material . It is myth that a girl likes only one man in her entire life.  No,  I like all the smart men of all ages and all regions.  But,  I have relation with the easiest, closest, boldest and safest one at a time   .   I think,  ruminate, dream and reverie about the same thing mostly .  It doesn't mean I don't do anything else.  I train myself in cooking intending to win more love of my husband by serving him yummy dishes made with my hands.  I comb my hair, wash my face a few times daily before applying some famous lotions to it,  trim my nails in inverted crescent shape,  wear nice and tidy clothes,  talk polite, walk seductive and study hard to get better grades mainly to impress the man of my choice and dreams in order to marry him happily .  I am a girl,  a girl of Seventeen and no man on the planet can understand exactly the pain of my heart.  I am expected to please my dad, my mom, my siblings,  my relatives, my schoolmates,  every damn creature I come across on the way and particularly the man who will take me to his  home as a bride  finally. I am expected to do all of it at the same time without exposing myself.  I must keep unwanted men at arm's length while at the same time I must signal the desired men to come closer fearlessly  without seeming a loose charactered.  I must wear a veil to please my parents and wear  back mascara to beautify my eyes for the men I might meet on my way to school or coaching center or else where .  For,  if I look too simple,  I am laughted at and if I look too smart,  I am backbitten.  I hate it but I have no choice but to keep on changing my boyfriends because SOME BFS HAVE UGLY HEARTS AND BEAUTIFUL FACES AND VICE VERSA.  Plus,  I have to keep in mind the choice of my family too.  My family will never marry me off to the  man I love but to the man they like.   After all,  I am no different than a sheep slaughtered on Eid that is nourished,  cared and loved by its owner for  many years only to sell it before Eid to the highest bidder. 
I obey openly and disobey secretly.  I obey less and disobey more.  However,  if I were allowed to disobey openly,  I would perhaps not disobey at all,  for,  it is forbidden things that generate deep curiosity.

(Author : Every girl 👧)