Uff.

This is not what this post was supposed to be about. But I’m dying in bits and pieces inside. I hate periods. I hate the pre and post period feeling but at least there is no physical mind numbing pain. I am cramping so badly I kept phasing in and out of the interview. And on the way back father o’ mine is making incisive analyses such as “It’s very strange. You used to have this pehlay also. Thank God as old as your mother and I am we have never had such bad stomach aches.” All this while not once did he suggest I should see a doctor. And yes I know my mother had relatively painless periods. Whatever. So I’m not that lucky. I miss my girls so badly. Whenever the squirts hit with the bulldozing pain, they would pamper me, cuddle me, tuck me in, feed me loads of goodies and Brufen and Buscopan and Ponston. This sucks but has also been as usual moment of revelation and thankfulness. I love Always. I love God for putting in the idea that a soft surfboard is what a woman is most comfortable wearing. Nothing beholds, obliges, enamours one woman of another like the lending of a sanitary napkin in dire circumstances. Great networking tool. Plus ten points for P&G. Minus twenty for Unilever and weird ass thingies like Feminex. Feminex is like wearing a pillow for a horse. I die I die I die. Little ugly blue fairies called Nac McFeegles are rubbing chillies in my uterus. I’m going to @#$@#%$*&(* their armpit hairs. No exercise helps. Actually it does. I just remembered. Post Insiya’s wedding dance-marathon the squirts hurt less. I should spend less of time in the development sector and more partying. The other only good thing about periods is not having to say prayers for at least five to seven days. It’s such a relief to be able to go around without this nagging feeling you’re going to be struck down by a falling transformer. My mummy-wummy has made me tea and biscuits and a tikor bottle is upcoming. (The thing about homecoming is I don’t have to pay for food. I am no longer a poor student. Now I’m just poor) I think I’m going to adopt fetal position and watch the Simpsons. Munchie, Poput, Minchka, Saroo, Batool and Zehra- I miss miss miss you. May the Sisterhood of the Web live long (but I hope the “Web” part of our name is jettisoned in a hurry).

PS. Back in school girls used to have such funny names for the squirts. “Aunty aeii hain”, “Friends are over” or “Chums are over”. If you have to be euphemistic you may as well be creative like “I’m surfing the crimson wave” which is also very graphic and hence cool like totally. Suggestions are welcome.