(Spoiler: The world would never be the same again.)
If I ever became the boss of the entire world — even if it was just for a day — trust me, the Earth would do a little twerk on its axis. I’d wake up not to alarms but to the moon and sun fighting over who gets to kiss me good morning. And me? I’d open my eyes, look in the mirror, blow a kiss to my reflection, and say, “Let’s slay, baby.”
First rule of Boss Babe Club: Everyone gets a glow-up kit.
No matter your age or gender, you’ll receive a customized box with makeup, highlighter, perfume, and a confidence serum that works instantly. Boys will be required to try eyeliner at least once. It’s called equality — and it’s sexy.
Second rule: No one is allowed to do household chores. Period.
Each house will be assigned a personal chef who looks like Ranveer Singh and a butler with Shah Rukh Khan’s romantic charm. You just lounge around, paint your nails, and say, “Bring my pasta to the bed, darling.”
Third rule: Creepy flirts are cancelled, cute ones are crowned.
Every guy must take the official “How to Talk to a Queen” training. Catcalling? Straight to jail. But if you drop a smooth line like, “Your smile just raised global temperatures,” you earn a medal… and maybe my number. Maybe.
Fourth rule: Mood swings mean a public holiday.
Feeling emotional? Congrats, girl — schools, offices, and meetings are officially cancelled. You’ll be wrapped in a blanket, handed unlimited chocolate, and allowed to stalk your ex without judgment. Emotional breakdowns are now glamorous.
Fifth rule: Everyone’s crush must reply to their DM.
That hot gym guy, the college senior, or even Ranbir Kapoor himself — whoever you’ve messaged in the last five years has to reply with something like, “Hey, sorry I didn’t notice you before… you’re actually fire.” It’s the law.
Sixth rule: Stalking exes is now totally legal and encouraged.
Girls will receive a “Stalk Like a Pro” toolkit with zoom features, profile tracking, and emotional support memes. You can rate their new partner too — “Pretty, but she doesn’t have your glow.”
Seventh rule: Period pain means pizza, foot massages, and validation.
Everyone on their period gets a hotline: Press 1 for Nutella, 2 for a cuddle, 3 for someone to tell you “You’re magic, babe.” Anyone who says “Is it really that painful?” will be strapped to a cramp simulator on max setting.
Eighth rule: Late-night texts allowed — but only if spicy or hilarious.
Messages like “Hey, you up?” are acceptable if followed by, “Because I can’t stop thinking about how good you look when you’re annoyed,” or “I wore two different slippers today — roast me, Queen.”
By midnight, I’ll be standing on my terrace, hair flying in slow-mo, the whole world cheering “Boss Lady! Boss Lady!” beneath me. I’ll grab the mic, wink at the stars, and say:
“One day wasn’t enough. I want the whole damn world… delivered daily.”
đź’‹ Final Words from the Queen:
If I ruled the world for a day, it would be full of confidence, laughter, chocolate, good lighting, steamy DMs, and unapologetic sass. No filters, no shame, just bold, beautiful, badass energy.
Because darling, a Boss Lady doesn’t ask for power — she takes it, sparkles it, and makes it fabulous. 💅oss banti, toh duniya thodi tharki, thodi thumka, aur full-on tandoori pataka ban jaati.
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