Marry me at Marriageable Age
...m a dreamer. But who is not? ...

"14 to 40", she started her story.

It is strange how simple and honest things attract a reader. I felt a slight tinge of familiarity with her writings as I went through her story.

She proclaimed her name was Kaboklei. And she was 31.

I wandered if she smelt like Kaboklei. Why the hell was I thinking about her? For all, she might have been the "big fat truck" her cousin described.

Then she talked about being a shortie. I like great legs. She said she does not like to marry a shortie like her. Still a thought clamoured, "Will 5 Feet 8 inch do? ". With shoes, I might be even 5 feet 9 inch.

Well, I am just over 25. A difference of 6 years. Well … Demi Moore was dating a younger guy. Maybe I still have my chance : . My mind wandered across the words she wrote. Shameless thoughts about the writer smashed youthful wanderings.

Somebody had once remarked, " You are a flirt."
"Yeah, I am. Except I have no trophies to show."

But never fallen in love for 31 years! That's a tall claim. Atleast to me. I seemed to fall in love with all shapes and sizes. Already I can write 12 short love stories and 2 long love stories. That way, I don't have the prejudice against heights of this interesting writer, I am currently writing about. Which meant I might even like her. I already felt that reading her story.

Deeply I realized that she belonged to that tribe of Manipur who are educated outside Manipur and never got the opportunity to mingle around other Manipuris. Who stayed away from the "bad Meitie macha" and concentrate on studies only, as so many of us were adviced when we got out from Manipur. At the same time, marrying a Mayang still was a deep social stigma. She never fell in love anyway. Perhaps she was waiting for the dashing Manipuri, after all.

I was just scanning the e-pao at leisure between works and coffee. Then this Kaboklei story held me in daze.

It was a comforting thought that I was not the only one who is lonely. It made me wander if I could provide some comfort to her. Maybe share her joys and sorrows as she wanted. Perhaps hold her hand to make her heart beat faster.

"Why the hell are such thoughts coming to me?" It made me think if I was a flirt after all.

She wrote she would marry the guy she fell in love.

31 years of loveless life. I wander if that would happen. I know I sound cynical.

I had been chasing receding angels. Sometimes I wander when would I give up chasing them. Some misunderstood my persuit with chasing skirts. I completely don't agree with those charges. But truth is I am still looking for "My Angel".

Hence the wanderings of my mind on this writer hadn't been entirely purposeless. Maybe an Angel at 31. I even wandered if asking this angel at 31 to marry me at marriageable age would strike out of place. Perhaps it would. Ema would faint if she learnt about this.

I was a flirt after all. I was just trying to flirt, I thought. Perhaps I was as lonely as her. Perhaps we could adopt a kid together. Perhaps.

Note: This article is a rejoinder to an earlier article "Marriageble Age" by Kaboklei