Untitled by Manasvi Chauhan

I have had a lot of people fall for my flawlessly contoured face, my tailored, arched brows, or my kohl-lined eyes. I have heard a bunch of them gush excitedly about how my skin resembles a smooth marbled surface and my nose looks all chiseled in all my selfies on Instagram. I can recollect all the instances when I was admiringly told how inviting my assets look in the brand-new body con dress I was clad in or the fitted tank top I was sporting at that time. I remember all the inebriated guys who delightfully played with the straightened strands of my sanguine hair while telling me how I am a “beautiful, beautiful” woman and damn, the “things they’d do” to me.

Surprisingly, I have also had the same people ignore me when I texted them at unusual hours in a state of absolute panic after waking up from one of my usual nightmares. I have been asked multiple times whether I was sick if I forgot to do my eyes that day. My ex very casually told me one day how I took my writing “too seriously” and how I needed to “loosen up and have fun.” Quite obviously, the latter translated to getting high and/or getting laid. Unsurprisingly, he was the same guy who later left me when I refused to get intimate with him. Who knew Prince Charming came with a ‘T&C Applied,’ huh? That’s the thing about our apparently evolved generation, I guess. Knights in shining armors have expiration dates as well.

A guy friend of mine called me high-maintenance once. He couldn’t quite grasp it when I explained that I wasn’t one of his vintage cars to be branded or objectified as such and that love comes with mutual respect, not mutual raging hormones.

You call your thirst for perfection ‘love’? Is that how you euphemize your lust?

Everyone falls in love with beauty when it is thrown at them. For once, be a rebel and fall for my tired, ringed-with-exhaustion eyes that were up all night working. It doesn’t take anybody special to chase after an hourglass figure. Be smitten by my thunder thighs and uneven curves instead. You say you love me? Then embrace my flaws along with my body too. Trace my crescent-shaped scars with your long, tapered fingers. Play connect-the-dots with the spots that adorn my face. Ignore the fact that my greasy hair is tied up in a messy bun while we talk. Tell me that it’s okay I missed that waxing appointment as I was too busy finishing my art project. Love me for my dreams and aspirations. Love me for all the childhood anecdotes I have told you at 2AM. Love me for all the letters I have written for you and all the drunk texts I have sent you. Love me for something less evident– not something perfect you noticed the first time you saw me but something that you’ve learned to love with time despite all its blemishes.

Any libido-driven lover can fall in bed. It takes a soulmate to arouse your heart and make wild, passionate love with your mind instead.

 

 

 

manasaviManasvi Chauhan is currently in senior high, and she writes, reads, and binge-watches Grey’s Anatomy for a living. A true hopeless romantic at heart, she survives on chick flicks and Cecelia Ahern books. Her future plans include pursuing screenwriting along with plotting strategies for world domination.

Germ Magazine guest author
… is a contributing guest author for Germ, which means the following criteria (and then some) have been met: possessor of a fresh, original voice; creator of fresh, original content; genius storyteller; superlative speller; fantastic dancer; expert joke teller; handy with a toolbox; brilliant at parties; loves us as much as we love them.

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