Last evening my parents were having a heated discussion about their tax returns.Accounts,declare,black,white,ULIP,Mediclaim.Gobbledygook.
I hope that when I'm grown up I wont earn enough to have to pay tax.I hope that when I'm grown up I can live like Plath.Alone in a bed sitting room in some random country with complete bastard for a husband.Who writes phenomenal poetry.
Or divorced with two runny nosed children.Hard up.Snatching few hours of aloneness,early in the morning and writing snippets.Furiously leafing through a well thumbed thesaurus to perfect the rhyme till its time to make tiffin.
And walk to work (sub-sub-editor of local womens daily) and back and have aching calves at the end of the day.Have many friends who are interesting because they're so boring and write mean comments on human nature based on them.
Meticulously study Audens style as though it mattered.Conscientiously read Alice In Wonderland each night.
And then one day,just put my head in a gas oven and end it once and for all.Then a great critic will 'discover' me and say that I was brilliant but(sighing tragically) before my time..
I also think that none of this is going to happen.I dont have the figure for tragedy.
In all likelihood I will be an obnoxious Fabindia clad feminist who writes lame reviews in Anondobazar Patrika which nobody reads and quotes from them and thinks she is ever so smart.