I seldom wonder- not due to lack of thoughts, but time to think-  “what if…”. It’s a bittersweet moment, the happiness comes with pain, I just want to smile a genuine smile again.
‘What if I was born a man?’ I’ll think to myself, ‘What if I didn’t have to waste the hardships of 19 years and actually been something other than a mother of children I never wanted, from a husband I never wanted and the domestic help of in-laws I never wanted.’
Maybe, I could have been the son my father wanted and desperately tried for. Complete my education; pick up a pen and create worlds in fantasy, but that itself is a fantasy because using my potential hurts my new oppressors ego. What if I said no, and enjoyed liberation for a while longer but, you and I both know we’d be kicked out and never allowed to show our face again.
Oh but my favourite, ‘what if I ran away to South Korea, met my idol, kidnapped him, fell in love because of Stockholm syndrome.  See the world maybe? Just like the stories us three would make at the back of class. We were naive then, we thought it’d actually work, in the end, those were all for nothing.
Now I wonder and wonder, until there’s nothing to wonder about. Sitting in isolation in my mind, hearing someone else critique my tea.