I want to be that kind of a woman when my feet hit the floor each morning, the devil says, "Oh crap, she's up!" I read articles on various content writing websites and platforms, quite regularly. Sometimes, I come across distressing content that flusters me, but most of the times, the articles are intriguing, and they make me ponder on a lot of things. It also makes me do something that might seem easy but is outside my comfort zone. It makes me question everything.

As a 22-year-old, I want to explore life. I want to run, fall, rise, run, and fall again. Because at 22, I don’t have to stop.

I want to gather as many experiences as I can because, at 22, I don’t have to settle. At 22, I don't know what I want in life and neither do I have to know. At 22, I want to have an opinion, but I also want to come across people who hold a strong argument against my perception. I want them to break my misconceptions so that I start all over again. I don't want to have a fairy tale life because even those have been manipulated to suit little children and their childhood fantasies of magic. I want to question my own existence and look for the meaning of my life. I want to enjoy the monsoon shower, by jumping in puddles on the roads, and not caring about my clothes getting dirty. I don’t want to regret not living my life to its entirety when my hair turns grey. I want to continuously evolve, see things in a different light, have varied perceptions and become less judgmental. What I don’t want is you (the society), to stare at me when I am jumping in the puddles and question my character. What I don’t want is you to judge me for something as simple as talking on the phone.

What I don’t want is the fear that I face if I get stuck in traffic while coming back home from internship. What I don’t want is my mother to be tensed when I get home late from work.

What I don't want is to be called an Anti-nationalist if I have Muslim friends or if I prefer eating other cuisines over Indian food. What I don’t want is you passing lewd comments looking at me. Yes, I won’t have any of it. Get that, dear society? Yes, I caught you, the thoughts that came to your mind while you were judging me for being a care-free 22-year-old. Well, you don’t have to bother about me. I won’t live a care-free life. I will always try to return home before it gets dark. I won’t even go out for parties, not even on a solo trip or a concert featuring my favourite pop star.

You know why? Because you can’t provide me with a safe environment. I cannot trust you with my safety, my life.

You are not capable of helping me to live a dignified life. You clearly cannot help me now or even later. All you can do is make me regret not living my life like it is my own. Please don’t try to give me excuses. When your finite chain of reasons cannot justify the crimes committed against women, then infinite reasons can also not justify your stance. You can never fathom what effect your mentality can have on a woman’s life, how your careless attitude can rupture the zeal to live in a woman. I want to be a care-free girl, but I can never be one. You will never let me be one.

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