In this personal essay, Ankita Sharma shares her journey of reinventing life after marriage and relocation.
I saw my nails turning yellow. This was the second time in a month. I hate it when this happens. I like my nails long, nicely shaped, and colored. They should always be colored. Especially now, since they have been increasingly turning yellow. I am sure you want to know the reason behind it. What am I doing with my fingers so much that my nails are losing color? Oh no, it’s not what you think. I get my fair share of sex. Thanks to my husband, that is one thing I am never deprived of.
But, frankly, this yellowing of my nails was perplexing. It took a lot of effort to grow such pretty nails, especially if you have short fingers and you have had a habit of biting your nails like I did. And then there were the parental restrictions. Oh yes, that’s a real thing. I was not allowed to grow my nails until I turned twenty-one (yes, that was the legal age of growing nails in my generation). Phew! I feel old and I am only thirty-one. I wonder what will happen when I actually turn old. Speaking of age, you know the latest saying on Instagram is that ‘thirty is the new sixteen’ because, apparently, sixteen-year-olds look more like thirty-year-olds whereas we in our thirties look like we never grew out of our teenage years. I don’t know whether to take that as a compliment or not. Primarily, because I looked so stupid in my teenage years, and if I still look like that, well, it’s an alarming thing for me.