I’ve heard many guys ask this question so many times, ‘Why do you girls take so much time to get ready? Why do you always keep us waiting?’ Well, I don’t know the answer to that question, but this is what happens behind the scenes. Sorry boys to keep you waiting but I guess you will find it in the end of the poem why we take the liberty to do that again and again and again. 😀
Psstt.. Please take it with a pinch of salt 😉
Waking up from the dreamy nap
Eyes tightly shut and a tiny smile intact
She stretches her hands wide
Gazes out of the window
Procrastinates leaving the bed
Cuddles and plays with her beloved puppy
Finally decides to quit delaying
Dramatically she puts one foot down
And then the next
Tippy-toed till the stereo
Selects her favourite song
Confused she re-considers her choice
And shuffles the playlist
Once, twice and many times more
As the beats fill up the room
She can’t help but dancing
Like a child, she’s ecstatic
Jumping to the songs’ tunes
And singing out of chord
Stepping on the cold tiles, she turns the tap on
The stomach grumbles and rampage begins
Shelves are searched, fridge is ransacked
Munching away happily, she gets lost in thoughts
The noise of overflowing water on cold tiles
Snaps her back out of the fantasies Â
And thus begins the session of beauty bath
She manages to cram up everything
In that hour of bliss
Dreams about her future,
Wonders about the evening ahead
Mulls over the past
Until she realises it’s getting late
Avoiding the calls that need attention
She attacks the over-flowing wardrobe
Peels out layers of clothes
She dresses and undresses
The wardrobe’s level lowers
And that of bed increases
Finally she’s happy with the assemblage
Struts towards the footwear collection
Only to realise in horror that
Nothing, in the room full of shoes, matches
The process starts again
She undresses and dresses
The wardrobe’s level lowers
And that of bed increases
Eventually clothes and shoes match
Smile widens, eyes sparkle
Need for caffeine triggers
Back in the kitchen, fiddles with the coffee machine
A peppy song comes up
Again the prancing begins,
Coffee in one hand and stereo remote in other
She dances balancing the hot one
And continually switches songs
Till a call from him breaks the flow
He’s about to reach in a few minutes
Panic strikes, coffee spills, curses emit
The hair styling starts
Hair misbehaves, she tries to tame it
Third time lucky, the crowning glory
Decides to stay as directed
The kohl define her eyes
The shadow adds colour to them
He’s already there, waiting
She sweeps the gloss
From the depths of her bag
And adds a tinge of shine on the lips
The cell keeps on ringing
Avoiding it conveniently
She dabs perfume out of the fancy bottle
Picks out a colour she likes
And paints her nails with it
Standing and posing she scrutinises herself
When the cell rings the fifth time
Snatches her clutch and keys
Just to listen to the opinion, once again,
Of her faithful and truthful mirror
She turns back and stands in front of it
Happy with the mirror’s answers
She smiles
Blows a kiss to the pup
She races down the stairs
Smiles to herself when she sees him
Pacing, irritated, outside his car
She knew he was rehearsing his dialogues
To ‘scold’ her to keep him waiting
Mischief twinkling in her eyes
She went behind him
And softly said, ‘Sorry to keep you waiting’
Angrily he turned around
One look at her and words failed him
All that came to his lips was a smile
Brushing aside a stray hair off her eyes
He just managed to say, ‘It was worth it’
She smiled a mischievous smile
And knew just like that,Â
That getting late would never be a problem ever again
musings of gypsy 