Ok so as the title of the post goes, this is a tag that I did coz Pranay tagged me. What was I required to do? In his own words...
"Write a Poem/Prose with the first letters of consecutive words being the consecutive letters in the alphabet.You can go upto as many letters as you can...Try to get to 26!!"
Here's the final product. Not half as good as what he wrote, but well this is it:-)
A Big Corny Dazed Elephant
Fires Guns Hanging Inside Jeeps
Kills Lions, Monkeys Nicely
Opens Packets Queerly
Relishes Some Taffy
Under Vines Weeps
Xylophone Yells ZZZZZZZZ!
N didn’t want P to get mixed up with that shallow, two-faced conniving piece of shit. But of course he didn’t think she was any of these. He failed to see through her farce- all he could see was a bubbly, fun-loving, spirited girl. The idea that her man was friends with a super-fake person pained N. She was sure M had romantic/sexual feelings for P, but he was oblivious to this fact. When she did finally mention what she felt, he strongly denied that something of this sort was plausible. “She’s just your average girl” is what he said.
They had already had several arguments over this issue with no conclusions. Both of them would merely shout at each other for a while, sit in different rooms, and finally one of them would break the ice and they would end up having great make-up sex. After a few days the issue would come up again and the process repeated. A vicious circle with no beginning and definitely no end. N had no clue how she could possibly get out of this predicament.
Now N is sitting all by herself, thinking of the best way to finish off M and make it look like an accident, when P appears in front of her. He wraps his arms around her slender legs and looks into her eyes. She looks away, not knowing how to react to that sudden act of love and affection.
P: (Tenderly) She won’t stay with us. Don’t worry. I’ll think of something.
He kisses her forehead lightly.
4 years later..
N looks stunning in a red ghagra choli and resplendent jewelry- it’s her wedding day! The glow on her face is matched only by that on P’s visage. They look lovely together, basking in each other’s happiness; perfect. People keep coming up to them to congratulate them or just to chat up.
A DJ churns out the very best of Bollywood and Punjabi music as kids and youngsters have fun exhibiting their dancing talents (or a lack of them) on the huge dance floor. Chaat- from Golgappe to Bhelpuri, Chinese cuisine- from Koi Thio to Chopsuey, Indian delicacies- from Paneer Tikka to Butter Chicken…all spread out in the banquet hall, smelling as bit as divine as they looked. It was as if nothing could go wrong today. Then M stepped into the hall with a bouquet of orchids.
Their reactions were diametrically opposite. Her smile faltered, while his became, if possible, even stronger.
N: You invited her????
P: Of course I did. And told you too. Forgot? Ok ok look happy now. She’s right
M hugs N and almost hugs P but stops when she gets a malevolent look from N.
M: Wow N you look gorgeous! Great to have met you at last…and that too on such a special day!
N gives M a simpering smile.
M: By the way P, you’re looking quite hot too!
P: (sheepishly) Thanks. And it’s really great that you made it.
M: (laughs loudly) Don’t be so formal. You literally begged me on your knees to come…how could I say no? Anyway, congratulations guys!
P: Thanks thanks.
M: I need to be at another party, so I’ll be off. Just came to see you two for a bit.
P: That’s not fair. You just got here.
N: (icily): It’s ok if she has to go. We completely understand.
M: Sorry guys, but I really really have to go. Can’t help it. Got this for you.
M gives the bouquet to N, kisses her on both cheeks, says goodbye and leaves. The minute M steps out of the hall N checks the card on the bouquet. To it was attached a piece of paper which said:
N I’m sorry. Sorry for everything. I know I’m a bitch, but then all’s fair in love inne? Accept my apologies. It’ll make me feel a little better. Trust me, I’m out of your life, and your husband’s…for good.
N passed the note to P. He read it looking utterly perplexed. With great difficulty he looked into her eyes, and though she felt maddeningly superior to him at that moment she just said: I KNEW IT.
Moral of the story: A woman’s instinct is usually never wrong. She might not be able to explain how or why, but at the end of it all, she is proved right.
- Smart, independent gal- Naina (N)
- Her boyfriend, the introvert- Parth (P)
- And the vamp- Manjan (M)
“Manjan calling”, displays N’s phone’s screen. She doesn’t answer. She’s got better things to do than speak to some twisted little toe rag. P looks questioningly at her.
N: I don’t wanna talk to her. Don’t bother.
In a matter of seconds M calls P. N expected that but said nothing. P answered (obviously).
P: Hey babe ‘sup?
M: Nothing much. I’m in town so thought we’ll meet up. How come your woman didn’t answer my call?
P: Errrrrr. She’s out. Maybe she didn’t realize it was ringing…
N was half wishing that P would tell that pseudo feminist how much she loathed her. Fat chance of that happening though!
M: Lovely! Come down to Ambience. Movie, coffee and me…what say?
P hesitates. He wants to meet M, but knows N won’t come along. And if he left her at home to meet M, woe betide him!
P: Ummm ummmm…no babe, I have to meet a friend somewhere.
M: O come on. Don’t give me this bullshit. Tell that friend you’re sick. Who’s more important, that friend or me huh?
P: (nervous laugh) No really I can’t make it. Next time maybe?
M: You’re breaking my heart buddy…but OK. Next time it is. I’m gonna be in Delhi on the 8th and 9th of next month to attend a conference. How about if I camp at your place? The three of us can totally hang out then…
P: Yeah sure. Great idea!
M: Okie. See you then. Ciao.
P: Yeah. Take care. Bye.
P looks up to see N looking mutinous. His phone’s speaker was so loud that she had heard every word spoken by the vermin on the other side.
N: How exciting! Maybe I should crash at my friend’s place for a few days so you two can have some fun?
P: She invited herself. You heard that.
N: I didn’t hear you say no! Great idea is what you said.
P: How could I say no just then? And what should I have said? “Sorry M, but my girlfriend can’t bear to be within a 2 Km radius of you, so fuck it?”
N: That would have been the truth, but I’m sure you could have thought of some excuse. We both know how good you are at lying.
P: Fuck you. Just stop pissing me off ok. I don’t wanna get into this fuckall discussion all over again alright. YOU have a problem, YOU deal with it ok.
N: Yeah. It’s my problem. It’s my problem that you lie to me when you wanna meet that whore. It’s my problem that you guys are on the phone all the time. It’s my problem that she makes plans to see you whenever I’m not around. It’s my problem that I hate that filthy maggot.
N storms out of the room, banging the door shut behind her. She is fuming mad. If P looked closely, he would have seen smoke coming out of her nostrils. She was ready to breathe fire at him, or anything else for that matter.
This thing was really getting out of hand. She wasn’t just jealous or insecure. This was worse. She trusted P; knew he wouldn’t cheat on her, not for that fat bitch in any case. But she didn’t trust that spineless rat one bit. M was over-smart, manipulative and above all- a SLUT. She made friends with N and through her met P. Ironically N and M had never met. They were chat friends.
Over a period of time N told M about her boyfriend. Though N thought it was a little odd for M to take so much interest in him, she didn’t think too much about it, and finally M befriended him online. That’s when things changed.
M and P exchanged phone numbers in no time (who asked for whose number first N had no clue, but she wanted to believe that it was M). Whenever they were online they would chat for sure- either would ping the other. In fact, M had stopped pinging N altogether! And even the times she called were out of formality or need.
Once when P was out of town, M messaged N, saying she was coming to Delhi for a spot of shopping, and wanted her to come along. It was obvious that M just needed company, not specifically N's, so she said no. Now M went ahead and sms'ed P that N was refusing to go out with her, and wanted him to convince his girl.
N was stumped when P called and asked her to meet M! Maybe, just maybe, he said, she had judged M too soon, and should give her another chance. Plus, he said, she kept avoiding her way too often, and it was not a nice thing to do. N was stuck. She didn't want to go one bit, but she didn't want to refuse P either; she said yes to M.
N cancelled her other plans as she had to go out with M. But all of a sudden M calls and tells her she’s gonna go with another friend. How rude was that! N was pissed off. But she didn’t wanna ruin her mood for that wretched woman, so she went out with her friends and had a lovely evening. Imagine her surprise, when at half past 11 that night M calls to say that her friend ditched her and now she wants to go shopping with N! N wanted to wring that nasty broad’s neck with her hands, but keeping her cool she just chastised M for calling so late and assuming N won’t have any other plans.
To top it all, when she told P of how M insulted her, and was taking her for granted, he just laughed off the whole thing. Why, she couldn’t understand, was P being such a fool? Couldn’t he see what was going on? Every time N said something against M he would defend her. On the other hand, this incident had offended N so much, but he was still taking her side, saying that she has lotsa friends, so it aint a big deal!
TO BE CONTD..
Can you ever tell if a bride is going to cry at her wedding, especially if she’s going away to a different country? That would be pretty natural isn’t it? So when Fiddi didn’t cry I was rather surprised. I was expecting a river to say the least, but there wasn’t a single drop! Not even moist eyes man! Is that merely ’cause she still had a month before she actually left for the US? Or ’cause she was (is) so much in love with her guy and she couldn’t wait to be with him? Beats me!
Not like she didn’t shed a single tear. She did. Not on the D-day, but a few days before it…We were all generally gassing around, when her younger brother (Fasahad) came in and announced that he had written a poem for her and wanted to read it. We all got excited and sat down to listen to him recite. With trembling hands he held the sheet of paper and started reading the poem…it was about what an adorable sis she has been, and how much he’s going to miss having her around…it was the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard. He was on the verge of tears and I could feel myself welling up too. And that’s when Fiddi rubbed her eyes and stepped out of the room…If she hadn’t cried then, I’m sure I would have slapped and made her!
I’m sure I’ll cry my heart out when I get married. I crumble every time I have to say goodbye to my parents and come to Bangalore, which happens every other month. If I can’t handle letting go now, how will I do it when I know am not gonna see them that often? What I can also never understand is why people get married. A live-in relationship is fine, isn’t it? Is marriage just a license to have sex? A legal form of prostitution, where the guy is a pimp and the woman his whore. One small difference is that the whore doesn’t put out for anyone but him.
We were all so busy having fun that we didn’t realize that ultimately she’s gonna get married and be off to a new place! Suddenly the whole process was done and I was hugging her for the last time…it struck me then that life’s gonna be different. True, we don’t stay in the same city any more, but now I might think twice before I call her at 2 am to crib about my new haircut. I don’t know how often we’ll get to talk; even if we speak, will that be for an hour as always or just 10 minutes? Plus she’s not gonna be in Hyderabad when I go visiting. Radhi and I will hang out of course, but we’re gonna miss that nut. The hyena-laughter, the whining, the sing-song tone, the scarf-covered head, the goosebumps…
I was trying to wear my nose pin today, and was totally reminded of how I almost broke your hand while my nose was being pierced. Am sorry for that sweetie…You know you’re the reason I joined orkut, you’re the only person I can call at any time of the day to discuss any damn thing (Radhi doesn’t have patience with me), it’s because of you that I absolutely love haleem and kheema now…Endless list, so I’ll stop right here. You’re the backbone of FRAN baby. I miss you so much so much so much. Love you. Muah muah and so many hugs.
I was going to make this post about the beauty of Gangtok-I was there for a holiday and loved it! The pictures say it all don’t they?
But this isn’t gonna be about my experience while rafting down the Teesta river, or the fact that I could see the moon at 12 pm, or the Chinese soldiers at the border (Nathu La pass) who were dying to take pictures with me *it was hilarious*. The highlight is not the ICL team’s players whom I saw at the airport, or watching the sun set at 5 pm every day, or even a pollution-free Gangtok devoid of traffic jams. My post is about car drivers…
About 30 odd cars (Innova and Tavera) and their drivers were at our service for 6 days, and we made complete use of them. Most of our day was usually spent in travelling to far off places on twisted roads with hair-pin bends. Hats off to the drivers for being so wonderful. Plus, they were really friendly and gave us a lot of information about the place. And every time I requested, they played latest Hindi/Punjabi songs on the stereo at a really high volume!
But little did I know that they were being treated like filth. On the last day my car’s driver was telling me what he and the others had to endure during the 6 days there-HELL. They were promised rooms to stay in, but didn’t get any. In that cold weather they used to sleep in their respective cars. There was 1 bathroom for them, but no water in there; they hadn’t showered for SIX whole days! Plus, they weren’t even given any food, even though they were told that food would be provided. They were left to fend for themselves. And the one time they were given, it was the previous day’s leftovers. No wonder they gave all the cheese sandwiches to the monkeys on the roads instead!
I can’t understand this inhuman behavior. Not even water for showers? How pathetic is that? Here I was relishing my chocolate soufflé and taking several helpings of the fried fish for dinner, while they ate badly made momos to fill their stomach.
In a Capitalist society we exploit those who we can. True. And it’s probably fair too. But this kind of disgusting treatment is beyond me. They are working bloody hard and deserve to be treated with respect and dignity, not like beggars at traffic signals.
*This was written in October 2008..posted a little late
A couple of centuries ago Aditi had tagged me. I was supposed to list 10 things I would do if I had the chance to change into the opposite sex. That’s pretty simple though! I would have spiky hair and a goatee, I would ride a real sexy bike, blah blah…
So I thought I’ll change the rules a bit *sorry Aditi*…here’s a list of 10 things I wouldn’t do if I were a guy who has a full-time steady girl-friend.
I won’t leave her unsatisfied in bed. Obviously I’ll come first, but I’ll make sure that my girl is satiated too:-)
I won’t have different rules for the both of us. No hypocrisy whatsoever, whether it is about having friends of the opposite sex, abusing in public or anything else…*I know she would hate it if I asked her not to do something and I did the same just because it’s OK for a guy to do so*
I won’t discuss my sex life with my friends. At least not explicitly. I mean it’s ok to say how much sex I’m getting, but to give vivid descriptions is just gross!
I won’t make up with her just before going to bed only so I can screw her. The only reason why I’ll patch up is because she’s my baby and it would be next to impossible to sleep while we’re pissed off with each other. *see I’ll be a nice guy*
I won’t hang up on her if we’re having a heated argument on the phone. I might yell, but I won’t hang up. *mighty tough, but I’ll try for sure*
I won’t make ugly faces if she makes a mistake. If it’s big, then fine, but not for something silly. And I will definitely not torture her by reminding her of her mistake for the rest of her life.
I won’t buy her expensive gifts all the time. If she’s so materialistic then I think I’m not the one for her…
I won’t treat her like some random girl when my friends are around and like a princess when it’s just the two of us. I’ll make sure my friends know of her existence, and she knows about them too. No saying “a guy…” when I’m referring to a friend; I’ll give her names instead!
I won’t lie to her. Whether big or small, doesn’t matter, a lie is a lie. So I won’t do it.
I won’t consider my work more important than hers’. I’ll give equal importance to what she does in her life too! *Basically, I won’t be an MCP*
At the end of it all, I just wanna say it’s fantastic being a woman. I love my life and I would HATE to be a guy!! By that I don’t mean I hate guys…what would I do without them:P
Wow! Long time no see!!
I know I was supposed to continue from where I left off, but I wrote something else in the meantime...watched a couple of horror flicks that freaked me out and gave me nightmares...and the result is this piece that you are about to read...
Of the dark
Of the evil spirit
Of the faceless ghost
Of the headless monster
Of the banshee with long hair
Of the kid with colorless eyes
Of the rotting hand trying to strangle me
Of the putrid breath trying to suck my soul
Of the decaying nails trying to scratch my face
Ah! Am a scared lil gal
It was some time after 7 when I started walking home from. I didn’t have to, but since I was bound to skip my workout I thought I might as well walk. As always there was a lot of traffic (what else can you expect from Bangalore), but somehow it wasn’t affecting me. I put on my earphones, and the loud blaring music from my phone completely killed the menacing sounds produced by the honking vehicles all around me. All in all I was having fun walking!
What I didn’t foresee was Murphy’s Law coming true. You know, “when something can go wrong, it will.” I was very close to my place. Less than 5 minutes away. That’s when I decided I’ll take a different route home. Why? Just like that! So I started walking down that dark deserted road around 8. It’s a narrow street, lined with houses on both sides. Kareena was crooning “Chaliya Chaliya”, as my hair flew beautifully (I think) in the wind. When suddenly I felt a violent jerk around my arm, and the next thing I know my handbag has been snatched from me by a couple of guys on a bike.
I screamed. I think I’ve never screamed with so much fear, anger, shock all rolled into one. I ran behind the bike to see the license plate. But those motherfuckers were really quick and with a flash they disappeared. I saw a guy nearby, sitting on a stationary bike. I told him my bag had been snatched and I needed to follow the” biker boys”. He just refused!!!
I had to report the theft. I knew the police station was close by, but not the exact location. So I asked a guy walking by. Are you in trouble? Yeah, I just got mugged. He asked me if I knew the local language. Nope. He offered to come along, and did too. He translated whatever I said in English to Kannada (the language spoken here). Then a fat cop wanted to see the scene of crime, and I took him there. The Good Samaritan came along as well.
My Nani (grandma) told me the following story when I was a kid. Dunno why it just remained in my heart...and then I wrote it in college for a class assignment. Not wanting to let it remain in those pages forever, I’ve published it on my blog! Read it…
An old woman is sitting on a bed. She is dressed in a white sari, brown with dirt. Her hair is a combination of black and white, and is so unkempt; it would be difficult to imagine she had ever combed it. Her eyes are sunken in their sockets and she has dark circles under them. Her face is devoid of happiness and laughter. All one can see is shriveled up skin, bathed in gloom and despair.
Her face is expressionless as she looks around her 8x8 dark windowless room. Her gaze rests on the iron trunk beside the door. She gets up with a great effort and walks towards it. Sighing softly she opens it and takes out a black and white picture of a young couple with a little child. She is holding the picture in her hand, kneeling in front of the trunk, when without warning the door of her room flies open. A little girl of about 3 walks in; she has a very cherubic face, full of life. The contrast between the two is glaringly obvious. Dressed in a pink frock with sequins she looks very adorable.
As the door opens, the woman’s attention is diverted from the picture. She hears a lot of noise coming from outside, of people laughing and talking, and loud music. The girl shuts the door and sits beside her, looking at her with love. She looks at the girl with a mixed expression of joy and trepidation. “You shouldn’t have come here Ritu. If Amar and Reena find out…” she says.
Don’t worry Dadi, mom and dad are busy partying. They won’t know. I just came to say goodnight. Oh! Goodnight then sweetheart says the old lady. Ritu kisses her grandma on the left cheek and leaves, shutting the door behind her. Sounds waft in momentarily on opening the door, and die down the minute it shuts.
For some time the woman sits in silence by her trunk, then she clutches her stomach tenderly and groans. She’s hungry; the anguish reflecting on her face. She rests her head against the wall, shuts her eyes and goes into a flashback…Amar is yelling at her. “So what if Reena scolded Ritu. She is our daughter. Why can’t you just mind your own business?” Another memory comes to mind, that of Reena reprimanding Ritu for sitting in her grandma’s lap…
With a start the woman comes back to the present world. She gets up with difficulty and opens the door. Slowly, very slowly she peers out, checking if anyone’s around. Making sure that the coast is clear she creeps out.
She goes to the kitchen and is looking around the room. It is huge, at least 5 times bigger than her room; has a high ceiling, a microwave on top of a cabinet, an OTG; the mixie rests on the kitchen counter beside the juicer. She seems disappointed and turns to go, when as if struck by a sudden thought she opens the door at the other end of the kitchen and walks out.
She is standing in the backyard, complete with several potted plants and a little pool. It would have been pitch dark, if the neighbours had not left the lights on. She takes a few steps uncertainly towards a huge pile of plates and forks. After ensuring that there is no one around, she sits down by the stack and starts eating whatever food is left in the plate hungrily.
Just as she is reaching for a plate a shadow falls on her. Startled she looks back and sees a very confused Ritu standing there. The woman is terrified. Without uttering a word, Ritu joins her grandma in eating, smiling serenely and looking at her with love.
“Ritu, where are you?” comes Amar’s voice. Before she can move her dad materializes in front of her. His eyes take in the scene and his face is filled with remorse and understanding…
Sparkling sand moulded into a grand castle
Waves gleaming in the golden sun
And a little boy in red shorts.
A chick in a black bikini
Slathering sunblock all over her long sexy legs
Making sure no spot remains
And a cutie drools.
A little girl picking up grains of the pristine sand
Tossing the shiny diamonds into the water
The waves washing her face
Dissolving her tears…
She is drawing the sun
Making a big smile on its face
Fighting back fresh tears
Glistening with joy.
Some things never change
Some people don’t want to
Things go from bad to worse
But what do you do?
Live with it!
Petty issue he says it is
You think so too
But before you know it
It snowballs into something big
You don’t want it to end
You enjoy being miserable
You’re at peace with the sorrow
But you know it can’t last forever
It has to stop!
But what when it stops?
No joy, no fun, no happiness
Just gloom everywhere
Pain and guilt-why did it stop?
Maybe it should start again?
All this makes me wonder
Where is the love?
Only in movies, books and songs?
Or does it exist in my life?
Yes! And I love every moment of it!
She has the sweetest boyfriend in the whole wide world. The kind others could only dream of! He isn’t the kind to get her flowers and stuff; she doesn’t crave for presents, but his little actions make her feel so loved, so wanted…like the time when he set the song “your body is a wonderland” as his caller tune for her on Valentine’s Day! Awwww.
So where’s the problem? In her stupid head I think! She expects him to be more public about their relationship, which he’s not. But then aren’t all guys the same? Any new guy she meets, whether in the real or cyber world, she tells him that she has a boyfriend. Not just so that she can ward off unnecessary stalkers, but also because she is proud of the fact that she has such a lovable guy.
He doesn’t do the same though. Only his “very good friends” know about her. People he doesn’t know much think he’s “available”. Is this merely because he doesn’t like to discuss his private life with the world, or something else? Why can’t he acknowledge her existence (read importance) in his life?
Both of them are into blogging. He writes very well, and she completely admires his style. She loves reading his comments on her page. But there are times when he comments on others’ posts and doesn’t reply to her. Obviously she gets offended and questions him. The reply she gets is very weird…lack of time!
She says, “If you were so hard pressed for time, how the fuck did you get the time to have all those long conversations with some babe on orkut? If you were so busy why did you reply to all those other people on your page? And not just your page, you were commenting all over blogville.” *Basically she is jealous because some of the comments were flirty* Plus she read some comment that referred to some other babes as his “buddies” and she wasn’t mentioned at all! Back to square one: people should know she’s his girl! God save me!!!
The truth is that the posts she was referring to (the ones where he didn’t reply to her) were pretty old. And c’mon how long could he keep replying to some silly conversation? She knew it too, but somehow she wanted to hear the same thing from him! Gosh women are so difficult!
Then comes another big villain: ORKUT! There was a time when she was very active on orkut, but not anymore. She doesn’t have the time. What pisses her off is the fact that he has the time to chat! And as if it isn’t enough that he chats while he’s in the office, he wants to chat even when he’s at home. As in not when she’s sitting with him, but you know, when she goes to pee or something. She leaves him alone for a minute, and he’s on that god damned chatting site, scrapping away to glory, or merely “checking” if he got any scraps!
He does feel insecure about her too. In fact, when they had just started dating he used to be super jealous of the guys she used to hang out with. She found that very endearing and cute! As time passed by it kinda got worse. His cribbing irritated her tremendously. But she knew he did that because he loved her so much and didn’t want to lose her. So she just let that be, and he got over his jealousy. She wishes to not be such a nagging pain the ass, but she doesn’t know what to do...Should send her to a psychiatrist I think!
She knows he’s not cheating on her. He probably never will. She knows he loves her a lot. She loves him like crazy too. She tries not to express how jealous she gets (sometimes for no reason) but she just can’t keep things to herself. She feels choked if she doesn’t spill it out to him. But in the process of “telling” him, she taunts him, and ends up hurting him. They fight often, but in no time they patch up and have amazing sex!
She loves being with him. She can tell him anything and everything without thinking twice. But at such times she feels so helpless. She hates crying ‘cause tears make her feel horribly weak and vulnerable. But that’s what she’s become now! She’s so sensitive to what he says…it doesn’t take her too long to start crying whenever they have a little squabble. She’s given up so much for him: right from cigarettes to her ego. But what does she get in return? *Voice of reason: LOVE you shithead! That’s what you’re getting from the dude*
Flip side: the guy’s version-
He is a nice guy. Good sense of humour, cute looking, intelligent, the kind that knows a lot about a lot of stuff. He never had a girlfriend before her. He likes her a great deal. No wait, he loves her with all his heart. But why should he tell the whole world about it? True, everyone around her knows she’s got a guy. And most of his real/virtual friends have no idea about it. But so what? Having a girl friend isn’t a big deal, is it?
That’s not the reason, but he’s simply not the telling kinds. He likes to keep things to himself. Why can’t she understand something as simple as that? Why does he have to declare his love for her from the top of the Eiffel Tower? Why does he have to say I LOVE YOU to her every time they speak on the phone? If actions speak louder than words, why can’t she feel his love when he holds her close and kisses her even though she has a really bad cold?
He feels lucky to have found her. She’s a real delight to be with. Not very pretty, but smart and witty (that was rhyming! LOL!). He always thought she’s not like the other girls. She seemed to be unaffected by the little things other babes would get worked up about. He thanked his stars for finding such a cool chick.
But that was only initially. Things are so different now! She’s not the cool chick any more she’s just a “typical” girl. The kind that has problems with the boyfriend’s other girl pals. The kind that gets irritated for the silliest reasons. The kind that asks for explanations. The kind that questions. The kind that cries…Where did that happy-go-lucky kid disappear? He wants the same girl back. But how? If she has problems with him chatting on Orkut, she seriously needs to get a life. If she expects him to reply to her comments on posts that he had written ages ago, she’s being very childish. She’s his baby, but she doesn’t have to behave like one right?
He was holding me tenderly, and we were swaying in time to Wonderful Tonight. He pulled me closer. So close that I could count the blackheads on his nose. His hand moved from my waist to my thigh and up my little skirt, giving me goose bumps wherever his hand brushed against my skin. And before I knew it, he lifted me up with ease and took me inside.
We were all over each other with no intentions of letting go. I could just make out the contours of his body in the light coming from the slightly open laptop. There was a mad hunger in his eyes, a hunger for me, matched only by my insatiable desire to straddle him and make him moan all night long. Our clothes lay in a pile on the floor, watching us like mute spectators, taking in the sights, the passion, the love, the sighing, the orgasmic screams…
Have you considered a career in modeling, came one of his many ridiculously stupid and pissing off questions. I was rudely jolted out of my fantastic sex-romp dream with my boyfriend. My happiness was being screwed by that pesky cricket. I mentally cursed him that he would have the most unsuccessful sex life ever. That is if he ever has one…
I’m spreading out the stark white bed-sheet on the seat, stifling a huge yawn. Please talk to me or I’ll die he whimpers. What the Fuck! Then suddenly he was on the floor, on his knees, bawling like an irritating kid, crying his heart out. There was nobody else in the compartment, so I was the only one to hear and watch the pathetic scene.
I was stumped beyond words. I stood there, feeling increasingly weird with each passing second, then stupid, and then really angry. Shut up! What’s your fucking problem? Stop crying like a wuss will you? If your life is so bloody pathetic, jump off the train…
The crying stopped just as abruptly as it had started. He wiped his face with the back of his hand, got up and walked away. I breathed a sigh of relief, finished making the rest of my bed, fluffed up the little pillow as much as possible, drew the curtains and lay down to sleep.
I woke up suddenly. I thought I was falling off a cliff. Rubbing my eyes with a shaking hand I got up and looked around. Nightmare! It was silent, save the noise from the moving train. Not a soul in sight. Not even Mr Annoying. But where was he then? Did he really jump off and die? A chill went down my spine for a fraction of a second. Fat chance! I slept again, pushing thoughts of that idiot out of my head.
Mom welcomed me with a smile that seemed to say so much…how’s my kiddo, you’ve put on weight, I like your t-shirt, you must be sleepy…I lay down on my soft bed, thinking of what I would do in the next few days. The last thing I remember is looking at the wall and smiling at the poster of an F1 car…
When I finally got up, my room was flooded with unpleasant sunlight. I was just about to yell at the maid to draw the curtains, when mom came into the room and announced that she was doing the laundry. I said “ok” and was going to roll back to sleep. “I mean give me the clothes you wore on the train NOW. Get up!” I got up grudgingly and gave her the jeans and t-shirt. As usual she asked me to check the contents of the pockets. I was sure that there would be nothing in them, but since she didn’t seem to be in the best of her moods, I complied. Obviously all the pockets were empty.
Sleepy though I was, I wanted to chew on some gum. I opened my bag to look for one. Amidst all the trash it was a little difficult to find a pack of Orbit. But I did eventually find my beautiful block of heaven. It was wrapped in a bit of paper though. I opened it.”You are a very bad girl. I’m only wanting to talk to you, and you is abusing me. I’m writing book and needing help. I’m acting like loser to see reaction. You is not being pity to me. You is rude. Not listening to me. Only chewing Orbit and is not offering to me also. When I write book, I mention I meet very bad girl on train.”
I’m painting today
I dunno what
I dunno why
Can I even call it a painting?
Just because I don’t use paint, just because I don’t use a paint brush I’m not a painter?
Have I not painted pictures in your head with my words?
When I wrote about my happiness couldn’t you picturize a happy me?
When I wrote about my heartache you could see tears trickling down my cheeks, couldn’t you?
When you read of my drunken fiestas couldn’t you imagine a sloshed crasiezt stumbling around in high heels?
Am I a painter or what!
Here's one of the most pathetic tags of all time. Drozzy you're a sicko for tagging me...you'll pay for this buddy! *Not an empty threat*
People you've already been warned about the tag. So you had better not abuse me:D
Describe your perfect Sunday morning?
What morning?? I get up in the afternoon on Sundays!
Favorite song of all time?
That’s a real tough one…let’s say “Two Princes” (Spin Doctors).
How tall are you?
“Tall” is a very relative term, so I choose not to answer this question. But yes, the rain falls on me later than it does on a lot of people. *Yes Fiddi you can laugh your guts out*
If you could be successful at any job in the world, what would that job be?
A painter’s model. *Am damn good at sitting around doing nothing*
If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?
If you could be someone else for a day, who would it be?
If you have friends coming for supper what would you cook?
Do I want to drive them away? If yes, then I’ll cook an “elaborate” meal. If they really are my friends, and I want them to stick around, I’ll order pizza:D
What is your favourite word?
Serendipity. I don’t use it often, but I really like it for some unknown reason!
What makes you cry?
Doing such long and never ending tags;-(
If you were an animal in the wild, what would you be?
Definitely a sloth!
If you could time travel to the past to correct any mistakes you feel you’ve made, would you?
Nope. What’s the point? Then everything would become perfect. And there’s no fun in perfection is there?
Do you believe that the cup is half empty or half full?
Depends on its contents…
What do you do for fun?
Not do such fuck all tags.
Are you an outdoor or an indoor person?
Depends on what you wanna do. I mean, I can’t be trekking on my sofa, right?
Where do you see yourself in five years?
FIVE YEARS! You’ve gotta be kidding me!
What are you most proud of in your life?
When do you plan on getting married?
When I’m in the mood to commit suicide.
Get the number or give the number?
Give. Unless the guy is super decent or super shy!
Romance or Kinky Sex?
A heady mix of both!
How do you feel?
At the moment: mad…grrrrrr Drozzy for this tag.
What size shoe do you wear?
The one that fits me right.
What is your favorite clothing brand?
Levi’s (for jeans).
Water or 100% Juice?
I would ask for both, with loads of alcohol as well.
T-Mobile, U.S. Cellular, Cingular/AT&T, or Sprint/Nextel?
Can’t be bothered.
Would you rather be hot or cold?
Is the question implying whether I prefer being in a cold or hot place? Cold definitely, with a hot partner and a bottle of scotch.
Would you rather lose an arm or a leg?
Which sadist thought of this question???
Favorite place to eat?
Place doesn’t matter, it’s the company that’s more important! *How philosophical was that*
Opera, Musical, Concert, Play, Performance, or Other?
Definitely not the opera. The others are all good (especially a concert), and obviously depends on who’s performing.
Most Memorable Past?
The time when I could hold my breath and refuse to breathe unless my wish was fulfilled:D
Most embarrassing moment?
I guess the time when I walked out of the trial room of a big store (Shoppers' Stop) with the buttons of my shirt undone...Took me quite a while to figure out why people were so totally checking me out!
If you had to pick one car, which would it be?
Pick? Are we talking about toys here? Wouldn’t it be very heavy? *Sorry for the bad humour*. A Lamborghini for sure.
Your favorite Disney Films?
Anastasia perhaps. And Shrek. And Ice Age. And The Incredibles. And Finding Nemo.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Forgot to ask before I ate it. Yummy!
Do you support Paris?
In what? Doesn’t her lingerie “support” whatever there is to?
Where is Waldo?
Up someone’s sorry ass for all I care!
Carbon. (That’s what gives us the DIAMONDS baby)
What was your last thought?
“What is my favourite element”
Firefox, Internet Explorer, Netscape, or other?
Who are you going to vote for in 2008?
In which category? For worst tag of the year I vote this tag.
Juice and crackers or milk and cookies?
I say both.
Which is worse? A bad laugh or a bad cough?
Both are equally bad. How do you compare them?
Are you a cat or a dog person?
I despise cats completely, so the answer is dog, though I would prefer to be a few feet away from them.
Would you rather be blind or deaf?
This is like asking “What would you prefer to eat: horse shit or cow shit?” Why the fuck would I want to be either blind or deaf?
Define yourself in 3 words…
I choose the same 3 words: CRAZY!
Do you eat cold cereal at night?
I don’t eat cold cereal. Period.
What is your favorite TV show?
One that has a lot of blood and gore…yeah baby am a psycho:P *what kind of a stupid question is that*
Do you shower every single day?
Boat or bus?
Boat definitely. A yacht to be precise:-)
What would you do if Michael Jackson asked you out?
I ain’t a kid no more, so the chances of him asking me out are completely ruled out. Ow (MJ ishtyle).
What is your favorite food?
Anything that isn’t made of “ghaas phoos”.
Do you read harry potter books?
The question should have been “have you memorized the harry potter series?” And the answer would have been a vehement YES!
If you could have one super human power what would you choose?
Jessica Alba’s power (Fantastic Four) of becoming invisible would be really cool!
Have you had a beer in the last week?
I don’t drink beer. Get me tequila!
Vitamin Water or Gatorade?
Favorite body part?
Whose? Mine? I think I already answered that:D
Flip flops or sandals?
What’s the purpose? Anything will do, as long as it protects my feet from landing in crap!
What do you do on fridays?
What I don’t do on weekdays. *Another hopelessly dumb question*
Do you like bananas?
Yes I do like to eat them. *And the point was????*
Whew! And that's the end of the tag...
I'm being very very very nice today to everyone in the blog world...so I tag nobody:-)
Another immature attempt at poetry...
Alcohol is bad
How much do I care?
Mix it up
Take it neat
Red black or blue
Colours don’t matter
I just wanna get high!
I walk in a “straight line”
I say “I’m OK”
My eyes flutter
I see everything
I hear it all
But am drunk…Cheers!
Tags are in the air or what!! Every 2nd post of mine is a tag! This one’s another interesting tag. And the tagger was Gunj! She tagged me some time back, and here’s what you need to do: list out 10 things you hate about guys! How tough can that be eh? So here goes…
- I hate guys who don’t understand any part of the word NO. I mean there are only so many times you can ask a guy to back off…but “he” still doesn’t get the point!!
- It’s very irritating when your man refuses to shave (referring to facial hair here). Agreed he looks rugged and handsome and all that, but what when you wanna lick ice cream off his face? What when your hair gets caught in his bristles? And what when he gives you a prickly kiss??
- I detest guys with no balls. I mean they are the kind that will pass comments on a girl when in a big group, but ask them to go up to a girl and strike a conversation and they will shit their pants. Bloody cheapsters.
- What is it with guys and defaming girls who refuse to date them? The minute she says “am not interested”, he will go ahead and tell the whole world she’s a whore! And if she goes out with him, he’ll tell everyone she slept with him! How pathetic!!!
- The above point leads me to this one: guys seem to think that outgoing, friendly and vivacious gals are obvious flirts; girls who abuse a lot are sluts; women who drink and smoke are easy to take to bed. Why???? I just don’t get the logic!
- I hate it when guys stare at a woman’s boobs when talking to her. Some do it discreetly, while some are so fucking shameless that it disgusts me. Women should probably stare at such guys’ crotch while they do so. Wonder if that’ll help or make things worse…
- I hate guys who think they can scratch themselves no matter who’s or who’s not around. Pocket billiards is their favourite sport. Gross!!!
- I hate guys who equate perspiration (read body odour) with masculinity. A lot of men nowadays take care of personal hygiene, and ensure they smell good, but there are loads that don’t, and being around them literally takes your breath away.
- I hate guys who are extra chivalrous. You know the kinds that will insist on dropping you home in spite of the fact that you can go yourself; the kind that won’t even let you pay the bill at a restaurant…Am not sure if you call that chivalry!
- Then there is just the opposite kind that thinks guys are superior to gals. I don't think men are even half a notch above women!
There could be loads and loads more, just as there would be loads about girls! So all you girls reading this post do the tag, and all you guys can do it too, except you’ll have to list 10 things you hate about girls! Go on and spew venom!
Wednesday and Thursday were good coz it was my boyfriend’s birthday on Thursday:-) Gave him a few surprises, which I think he loved…I mean am sure he was stumped, but I dunno how much he liked the stuff…perhaps I should just have done a strip tease or pole dance for him:P
That’s the both of us in the picture…his face covered in a real thick layer of his b’day cake. My very own “chocolate boy”!!! Of course he didn’t appreciate the chocolate on his face as much as I did, and he rubbed his cheek against mine (not very clearly visible in the picture though).
I would like to take this opportunity to say that he tastes better than chocolate:D Love you loads Sidu. Mmmmmuah!
So I got tagged by Elusive, and here’s the product…
- Am as lazy as lazy can be! Maybe worse! Sometimes (read usually) am so lazy, that even though I need to pee, I don’t go to the loo unless my bladder is on the verge of bursting! So do I get the “Sloth of the Year Award”?
- Taking a shower is such a pain. I take a shower only if I need to go out (weekdays: office, weekends: party, movie, shopping). If I’m merely gonna laze around at home, then I don’t shower. Pssst I don’t even brush:D Long live breath fresheners!
- My toe nails are always painted. This is how it has been since school. Even if am wearing sneakers, my nails have to be painted the prettiest pink or mauve!
- I usually don’t coordinate my undies and bras. I just randomly pick something up. As luck might have it, the combination turns out to be pretty good without any effort. Of course I have also been known to wear completely mismatched stuff too:P
- I have a tendency to run my fingers through my hair. No matter how good my hair is looking, I will still do that. Dunno why!
- I like watching horror films. Even though they scare the shit out of me!!
- I hate mustard sauce. YUCK! I will go hungry, but won’t eat anything that has mustard sauce in it.
Gonecase, Chacha, Skeety, Freesherry, Geet, Kanan, and Litun.
What do you have to do? Just jot down 7 random things about yourself! That’s it really! And then tag 7 people too!!
PS: Gunj, I was about to tag you, but you’ve already been tagged by Elusive:P