Letters To The Moon # 14

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Dear Moon,

It’s 7 in the morning and I am awake. Because I have been getting Black Friday alerts all night. I switched off my phone but then I could not sleep.

I am frustrated right now. When I checked my phone, a lot of the alerts were from Pakistani shops and their online websites. Like Daraz.pk, Liberty Books, etc. This makes me sad. Why is it that we feel the need to do what others do ? Black Friday is a huge deal in America. That doesn’t mean that it should be a deal in Pakistan as well. Can we never be original enough to do something of our own ? What’s next ? Celebrating Christmas.

I am all for sales. Who doesn’t love bargains. But the fact is that Black Friday is not a Pakistani thing. Hell, it’s not a South Asian thing. It’s an American thing. And let it be.

I am taking the other half shopping today. I know it should be the other way around. But his idea of taking me shopping is handing me his credit card and telling me to go to town with it. (which is awesome so I ain’t complaining)

Anyways, we both know that today will be a disaster. He will hate it, complain about it, we will end up arguing in the middle of Zara and I will stomp out. I am going to bear it. Because I hate poorly dressed guys especially when you are a professional.

Thank you mother dear for marrying me off to a guy who would go to the office in sweats if it was up to him.

Something that always happens with me is that when I need something, there are zero sales. And when everything is on sale, I don’t need a thing. Sad but very true.

I have so much crap that given the chance I would like to donate or throw about 70% of it. That’s what happens when you get married. You need proper clothes that fit into five categories, Lawn, Cotton, Semi Formal, Formal, Shaadi clothes etc. Even then you have nothing to wear at the end of the day. Then you need accessories, shoes, bags, perfumes, jewelry, make up etc. I tell you the list never ends. I miss the days when I could get away with wearing the same jeans for four days.

Adieu,

S

……

 

 

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