Is this me?

Yes, A. I got a manicure! and B. I got my nails painted RED (BRIGHT)

One major influence of the western culture on my life has been my "exploring" of my feminine side. By 'exploring', I really mean just touching the fringes because I never knew that I had a feminine side. I grew up with the impression that any kind of feminine concession to vanity, even the simplest nail polish was something which

1. distracts me from my so called "career" (the biggest horror was not getting a job)
2. was for women who were not interested in studying but in wasting time with the ultimate goal of getting married.
3. was no use for me since I was nowhere near beautiful. Only the "beautiful" girls had the right to primp.

The above compounded with an extremely "no makeup" mother (not even a lipstick) and a sister made sure that I was not exposed to the feminine side at all. So, when I was old enough (read engg college) to make up my mind, I had interest but no knowledge - I did not even know how to cry or ask for help (still working on those two). But friends were awesome. They taught me the basics of make up - lipstick, eye liner and nailpolish. But, I was never confident enough to go for the bright colors. Which was really funny because boldness is not something I have lacked generally. I still remember how I was gifted green, gold and another bright color eyeliner which I steeled myself to wear because I love those friends.

Anyway, here the story is different. Women are very very comfortable in their own skin. It is different from Europe where women are either very well made up or very shabby. Here, they do not hesitate to wear any kind of clothes and make up irrespective of whether convention endorses it or not. I realized that while I do not hesitate to voice my opinion or hold my own with men on all matters feminist, I do not carry this attitude over into personal grooming. So, finally I am "finding myself" and rebelling in my thirties!

So, now I have this siren nails and I keep looking at the bright red and asking myself - "is this really me"? And no, I did not feel conscious even once.