Skyler — Letter 1 of 7 — To do it or not to do it

My parents didn’t teach me ‘anything’. They didn’t give me lectures & the nuggets of beautiful ‘virtues’. In that way, I’m me. My thinking isn’t corrupted by the ‘unquestioned’ virtues passed on from generations of ‘conformers.’ Though, they didn’t tell me what the ‘right’ age to ‘deflower’ myself is, I do not ‘claim’ to have ‘true’ freedom. I do have to come home by 10pm, extended to midnight on Friday & Saturday, and to ‘whole night’ on special occasions with a ‘legitimate place to crash,’ or my ‘caretaker’ lady would SMS, and more recently WhatsApp, my parents, ‘separately.’ No, they are not separated; they live separate lives in the same house. I ‘see’ them sometimes; I like seeing them sometimes. I do have my ‘curfew’ but it’s never my way or high way from either of the parent’s side. May be not ‘true’ freedom, but I have something in its ‘proximity.’

At 5’7, I’m tallish for this country. My skirt was high, exposing 75-80% of my longish legs. Folding my school skirt several levels is a ‘natural practice’ for me. As I was walking out of the ‘house,’ I stopped in the hall to drop a text to Water, that’s a real name of my platonic girlfriend, that I’ll be there ‘on time,’ an elusive concept at my age & for my generation. As I stood & typed, in the periphery I ‘noticed’ my dad, ‘noticing’ me. I subconsciously didn’t expect him to be at the ‘house’ at 3.15pm on a Tuesday or at all during the month of November. It’s not that there was a ‘memo’ stating he will not be at the ‘house’ at all in November, but ‘historically’ I ‘see’ him about 6 times a year, 7 if ‘he’ decides to personally wish me on my birthday, an event that hasn’t occurred in the gone four years. In October, anomalically, I bumped into him twice, once for an awkward 45-minute coffee, which completed his ‘quota’ of six meetings of the year. I certainly had a genuine reason not to expect him standing in the hall at 3.15pm on a Tuesday, in November after exhausting his quota of six appearances now that he hadn’t taken his ‘bonus’ seventh ‘birthday meeting’ two days ago. He noticed the length of my skirt and the about 75-80% ‘exposed,’ legs; about 30-35% more than what’s culturally or daughterally reasonable. He looked at my legs and skirt for about 2-3 seconds against the ‘standard’ .5 seconds. That’s 1.5-2.5 seconds or 4-6 times longer than what’s culturally or fatherally reasonable. The attention of the magnitude of 4-6 times longer from my father is ‘thought worthy.’ When we finished our respective ‘affairs’ our eyes collided, staying true to the moment, remained frozen for about 2-3 seconds or 4-6 times longer, against the standard .5 seconds on a regular one of our six meetings a year. ‘Hey, dad,’ I said which was matched by his reflex ‘Hey, Skyler.’ That’s how our unexpected seventh meeting ‘concluded.’ Our ‘terse’ dialogue is not a sign of broken ‘traditionally’ warm dad & daughter relationship or his or my or each other’s ‘coldness’ towards each other. We ‘genuinely’ do not have anything to share or get off our ‘chests.’ I do not claim to know him, who he really is, I do know some things about him. He doesn’t qualify for any of the traditional definitions of fatherhood, including the money, which comes from my mother, but he’s not intrusive, and he doesn’t lie – something that’s been his bane, something he’s tried to ‘fix,’ but has been ‘unable’ to ‘cure’ his honesty – so the bane persists. And he’s reclusive and that’s the ‘conspicuous’ raison d’être for him not to tell me what he thought about me wearing a skirt that exposed 30-35% more legs, but my interactions, implicit & verbal, with him, which are traditionally miniscule, are sufficient for me to know, and tell you, that he didn’t say anything barring the reflex ‘Hey, Skyler,’ because he had nothing to say. I do realize, and ‘you’ realize too, that he looked at my legs and skirt for 4-6 times longer than the ‘standard,’ but the reason was the ‘novelty’ factor, not the judgmental factor.

Fifteen minutes after exchanging ‘concise pleasantries’ with my father, I was walking into a mall, a mall is a ‘safe haven’ for girls in Delhi, which has a ‘sticky’ reputation of mistaking a girl for a ‘complimentary McDonald’s toy.’ I’m not conventionally ‘pretty’ or of the ‘right’ color but my height, 75-80% exposed legs & an ‘unmissable rack’ makes up for my ‘conventional flaws.’ A boy looked at my conventionally ‘flawed’ face and my unmissable ‘bosom,’ or the other way round, and his testosterone got a ‘positive kick.’ My oestrogen got a ‘negative kick.’ Our reactions were ‘conventionally standard.’ He was a 3 and I am a 6, a ‘score’ derived after factoring in a bunch of ‘contemporary’ parameters.

If you, a boy, were looking at a girl, and she looks back at you and transmits an unspoken ‘message’ to you that she doesn’t like people looking at her, there’s a certain miscommunication. She’s telling you, she doesn’t like ‘you’ looking at her as the gap between the ‘scores’ is too large. I know this because Chris Pines and David Beckhams of the world are never transmitted this tacit ‘message.’ But then ‘you,’ unless you’re younger to me, should exercise ‘caution’ before believing anything a recent 17-year-old claims to know. People my age aren’t supposed to have any clarity about anything that’s of ‘real consequence.’

As I walk inside the cold-aired dome & step on the escalator, a man ahead of me finishes a sentence, in a high decibel voice, with the indiscreet word - bitch, directed towards a woman who is accompanying him. Instantly, all the escalator dwellers unanimously widen their eyes & throw him a look of unquestionable disdain.

If in a mall that's frequented by people from affluent backgrounds, a man 'pronounces' a woman a bitch out-loud, he's pronounced a 'chauvinist' without trial. In the same 'milieu' if a woman pronounces a man a dog, she must have 'justifiable' reasons. The 'setting' where these 'adjectives' are spoken out-loud decides the perception of the character of the man, of the woman.

The 'show' runs out of steam as instantly as it had caught the steam. I get off the 'moving stairs' & Water is there to greet me enthusiastically, she's an 'enthusiastic' person, giving me a feeling 'normally' associated with airport pick-ups. 

We quickly kick off an 'inconsequential conversation' as an 'adult' would 'label' it. We also 'sporadically' call each other 'bitch' enthusiastically, at times in the same high decibel voice as the man 'labelled' a chauvinist did. As we are teenagers & both of us are of the 'female' gender, we are not 'labelled' chauvinists or a member of any other derogatory categories. 

Our 'inconsequential conversation' refers to should Water 'do it or not do it' with 'him' on the opportunity that presents itself in three days' time. If 'you' are a boy, then you may not suffer this dilemma that girls 'suffer' incurably. As when the opportunity presents itself, you 'take it,' not mull over it. I partly 'envy' such clarity. Our, mine & Water's, conversation today will not result in clarity. We, as teenage girls, know that before our conversation 'commences.' Logically, this ostensibly construes that the 'adults' label' of our conversation being 'inconsequential' is 'spot on.' But not all actions, of teenagers & adults, are meant to be logical or no one would have 'wet their faces' for the dead.