“Hey! Good Morning Aadhya. How are you?” Neha chirped while leaning on the mammoth granite reception counter in gym yesterday. I just can’t understand one thing why did she always start lolling on the table like some puppy in urgent-need-of-affection whenever she notices my presence? Before yesterday I doubted her being a bisexual but when she told me that she had been reading my column since like forever and really loved my latest article ‘White Is New Black’ during the water break in power yoga session, I was gobsmacked.
No one has ever told me that they read what I write leave alone like. I could feel my cheeks turning into a strange shade of red.
“You….you really liked that?” I mustered my calmness, pushing aside my urge of climbing on the granite counter and yell at the top of my voice ‘Hey! See people love me so much. I am their fashion guru. I am their Love guru’.
“Yes I do. Rather I would say that I buy Glitz just for your column” she crocked. To be honest I didn’t like her tone. Wasn’t she meant to say it aloud?
“Thanks. I appreciate that” I retort before making my exit, leaving power yoga session in between (I really needed to dance and what could have been the best place other than my apartment?). Poor yoga guru must be wondering where his talented and famous shishya had gone. OK. Fine. He didn’t even know I exist. He hadn’t even noticed my absence I mean it’s not like I am no one, it’s just that there are ten more people other than me. It’s not easy to keep check on every one. Is it? Ok. He may not know me today but one day, one bloody day he will.
Keeping everything aside the main point I want to tell you guys is “I have my own readers, my own fans”. Readers! Fans! ( yayyyyayay… llalla lalala huaaa lalala). Ok so what If I know only one reader (fan)? I am sure there must be whole lot of young girls out there who must have been buying Glitz because of me (I always knew that this magazine is nothing without my column. Huh!). should I ask them to make me their partner and fire Natasha Akhtar (bitch!) and make me the chief editor and let me decide what should go in magazine and what should not and let me arrange myself in some flight to Italy, Paris, Russia or may be Switzerland so that I could properly right my travel column?????????????????
I wonder how my parents would have reacted if I would have told them that how close I am to become the Indian Anna Wintour. Well in real my mom would have taken ages to pronounce her name correctly and my dad would have said “you cannot be my daughter. I always knew you were fooling us and doing this shameless job in some shameless magazine who prints half naked models on their cover”.
I just don’t know why they don’t understand my dream and to be honest I just don’t want to spoil my mood by drooling about it.
P.S: Sometimes I wish I could tell them ‘one day you guys will proud me’.
Famous girl in the City!