I love it when I tell you
the shirt you bought so lovingly without me, is just about okay and you rarely
wear it again.
When I get up from the bed
and you pull over my pillow to keep it under your arm with pure pleasure etched
on your countenance.
I love it when sometimes I
laugh harder so that I won’t cry and you laugh with me but hold me the next
instant.
When I act like a child
and you don’t do the same and when I behave too mature, you bring out the child
within.
Love it when you ask me
what I would like to get on my birthday in a surprise situation.
When you won’t take me to
a restaurant again for it is ripping expensive but book me the best of spas on
our next vacation.
I love it when you smile,
watching me glare at you for over tipping the waiter,
Or when I ask you to take
me out and you cannot as you are busy but message ‘I am sorry’, minutes later!
When you call me just like
that, just when I am not expecting, just when it is most needed.
I love it how I feel like
closing my eyes hearing your sweet nothings and opening them with a brush of your
lips on my lids.
When you touch my arm, even when we are among people, for you forget things when my skin is that
close.
When I force you to click
pictures of me and you smile at my insane pose!
Love it when you never
bother to give me a compliment but when I sit down to get even a little
self-critical, you vehemently deny it all.
When you forget to switch
on the I-pod when you take your I-pod and me for a stroll!
I love it when just by
hearing my ‘hello’ on the phone you can make out if I have just got up or
caught a cold or if I feel like shouting.
When you pitched in for my
policy instalments but just on a whim, made me pay for our movie outing.
I love it when you hold my
palm in a crowded place just as nonchalantly as though you are guiding a three-year
old and then when I am sick, you grasp my hand sitting by my bed side as
tenderly as though you’d be holding a prized trophy.
When I go out of breath
yapping about my own stories and stop short and you still ask me to go on for
you were enjoying it.
Or when I check out
another guy and you say he’s not worth it not because you are jealous but
because you think he is not my type.
I love it when I take so
long to select between two outfits, ask your opinion and eventually show my
inclination towards one and you defend it as the better out of the two.
When I put my head on your
shoulder while we watch a movie or when we travel in a plane for I get dizzy.
I love it how you enjoy
with my parents even more than I do.
When you bear my friends
whom you can’t bear and don’t mind when I don’t do the same for you.
I love it when I fight
with you and you make me say sorry in the end and bring me a big chocolate
after a tussle sometimes when I refuse to bend!
Considering the huge buzz yes, we flatter ourselves when others seem to be doing
less of it-hint, hint in the blogosphere
about the invention of The Fat
Transporter in my post Somebody Invent these Please, I decided to dedicate some moments of silence through typing
these words, dedicated to my fat and those of others and how it can be a pain
in practically anywhere that it surfaces. Hoping this would help it to RIP and
motivate us God, to create a fat free world.
You dread going to the tailor
out of fear of getting your measurements taken. And in case he would say that
the suit has not been stitched tight by his mistake but the fact that you have
put on inches since the last measurement taken ten days ago-where, oh god where
would you hide your chubby face the body
can anyways not be hidden?
You look at the brands
condescendingly that do not make beyond size L-what the fuck do they these self inflated, prejudiced dim-wits think of
themselves anyways? And also pray that
the good looking boy you sometimes bump into in that big mall showroom does not
spot you surfing through “All Large sizes here” section.
While having sex, you
wonder more about how you might crush the poor guy under you with your weight
or would your bellies prevent you from getting the job done no puns intended.
And when the special someone gropes, you hope he does not hold a layer of fat
in his finger tips unconsciously instead.
People ask you if you are
not well for you seem to be going breathless and you smile and say you are fine
when actually you have tucked your tummy so hard that it is difficult to
breathe and you are waiting to go to a corner of solitude and exhale.
You refuse to go on a
vacation with thin-pins for then even when you wear what makes you look the
thinnest would still make you look bountiful next to the I-could-give-competition-to-a-ladyfinger friend; and not to mention
how would the photographs appear when you return back home and upload them on Facebook
and your skin-on-hanger friend gets
more compliments from YOUR friends than you-scary
thought, eh?
Getting pictures clicked
is another problem-thank god for digital camera and the world was saved with
the delete option. But then you always have to look for accessories to hide the
bulges-use people, cushions, trees, bags, children yes, fat people are sometimes shameless and strategically place them.
Onlookers stare at your butt
more out of wonder than awe!
You have to ask a totally
dumb question like “Will this fit me, na?” to a salesperson when the tag says
“One size fits all” and then bring it back from the trail room and then sheepishly
mutter under your breath, “This does not fit” and she/he stares at you with the
look as though he has seen the eighth wonder materialize before his eyes and
can’t even call the ‘medias’ to claim his share to fame.
People ask you to share
their tiffin or lunch and suddenly become pale when you agree.
You make stupid
calculations through the day like what would have more calories-a lunch that
constitutes the nine piece chicken nuggets with medium French fries or two
pudina parathas with butter chicken and after baffling your brain about it till
both go thanda on the table, you end
up having much of both.
You get stuff like
slimming tea, fat free mayonnaise, diet coke, chips with no trans-fat, roasted
snacks-have a loadful of them all together, wait for some bulges to budge and
then complain that they do not.
You go around proclaiming
that you like a person more for their heart and mind than their body, hoping
someday someone would say and feel the same for you.
The world in your views is
not divided between the haves and the haves-not or the Whites and the Blacks or
the Developed and the Developing-it is plain simple a struggle for survival between
the beam-thin naturally blessed and the air-filled naturally cursed.
You prefer going to the
mountains than the beaches for mountains help you cover up and the beaches
require you to don a swimsuit and hell Halle Berry-may you be damned for that
walking out of sea in that skimpy thingy image for James Bond that makes half
the male population want to be one -the
swim suit or James Bond, they are still not sure.
You dream that someday fat
would be in and the gorgeous hunk of a man you fall in love with would have a
fat fetish.
You thank god often that
clothes were invented and you were not born in the stone age-otherwise ever
getting a head to turn for you, would have been such a ‘fat’ chance.
You have to sit through
the torturous recitals of human-toothpicks about how they have put on half a kg
and they are sweating it out in the gym to combat that or how they feel bad
about eating half a chocolate pastry-I mean it was just half-really??????????
And worse is when they eat half a dozen microscopic bites of the scarce food on
their plates and touch their barely-there tummies and say they are so full-you
can almost hear your own tummy growl.
You spend some insane
hours wondering if the tummy would grow out so much someday that it would make
the boobs appear to have gone in.
While walking ahead of a
good looking boy, you do not wonder about the opening line to make a pass at
him or how you should trip so that you fall right into his arms. Instead you
are wondering the watermelons placed at the top end of your legs are not going
up-down, up-down in a see-saw way.
You advocate how Indian
dresses suit the Indian girls more and gossip about how the squeezed-mango
friend is looking sick and unhealthy these days because of her diet-maliciously
planning in your head that she gets scared enough to give up and thereby not
making you give in.
When you fall people
scream not because they want to save you but because they want to get out of
the way, in case your butt decides to rest on their nose.
You stand in the kitchen
to cook and sweat and console yourself this is as good as perspiring in the
gym.
The worst question that
could ever be asked to you is: What is your weight? And the most prepared
answer always is: My bones are heavy...
When you jump to jive on
the dance floor and shake it like there’s no tomorrow, you soon realise that
your feet have stopped gyrating but many other parts of you are still swinging.
You make more orgasmic
sounds while eating the KFC burger than while being eaten.
When your special someone
asks what is your favourite flavour and you say chocolate-you secretly hope
that bag in his hand would contain some nuts dipped bars rather than those little,
long balloon like things.
Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeenough said-I
need to drown my sorrows now...You comment till I look for something to eat!
This is my second letter
to you and since you answered to my first one some twenty years ago, when I was
a teenager and in love with you post Maine
Pyar kiya, I am assuming you would oblige me again I still have that letter btw tugged away for a
personal moment now and then. Though this
time do not send me an autographed photograph and a printed response of your
forthcoming movies for I have kinda sworn off them for a while as well as
stopped talking to your three feet long posters transfixed on my wall and on my
mind then. So you see I would need more to shut me up now.
Last week I had a
traumatic experience and as a fan I am sure, you’d be interested in knowing
what badgers my little brain. Bodyguard was a movie that I went to after one
month of no movie-watching in the theatre which
is a catastrophe in my case and
surviving. But your latest seems to be the greatest-in terms of deterring movie
goers from ever treading upon the theatre route again. I mean what are you
thinking these days I would really like to know? In your defence, I know the promos
were not very promising but in my defence, you know how we fans are-hoping for
some last minute miracle to salvage a sinking Titanic, but finding ourselves
gasping for breath on not much, when we are thrown rudely overboard the sinking
ship. To be literal in case sarcasm is too much to expect stars to understand-more
like thrown overboard by a loud, cheap gag in between our pleasurable sleep
during the movie.
‘Wanted’ was good after the sad mess of Veer and Mr n Mrs Khanna...or
did they come after-ah, who cares! The mature
yet vulnerable and sleek Salman magic was woven with dhaanso dialogues and an almost believable story line or whatever
is possible in the Bollywood limitations anyways. That was followed by Dabbang and a hint that you were
beginning to lose it. Vanity thy new name was Salman Khan and those obnoxious
narcissist mannerisms garnered many an applause in the theatre and I thought,
well, maybe my movie tastes have become a little too contemporary.
And then came Ready! Omg, did the story writer revisit
his kindergarten to write this narration? And you are hitting 45 for crying out
loud, some seven years younger than my father who is a grandfather now. You still
expect us to buy the flight of fantasy that you are hanging around the house in
the entire two hours plus frame like a college going dude, pampered by the
elders for he is someday going to sambhalo the baag-duad of the khaandan ka business? They must later realize that
there are only Sunday, Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday, Friday and
Saturday in Salman’s week-there’s no place for a Someday!
I also assume that perhaps
your choice of movies is being influenced by your erstwhile friend and hitherto
bitter enemy Shahrukh’s selection. Shahrukh managed to horrify me in that
remake of Karz, god help that movie because I have even forgotten its
name-it was hopelessly predictable. Devadas, Omkara, Maqbool and the likes
reaffirmed faith in remakes and Shahrukh shattered my love even for the
original Karz. And then he murdered
me alive when I saw him in that ‘Haule-Haule’
flick with those terrible moustaches and then terrible-er hamming as the
colourful, so-called hipper version and superbly far-fetched story line again-I forget its name tooI am not getting old-you guys are
fucking my mind with movies that remain horror stories etched so firmly even in
just a two hours ordeal in the theatre. These
from the “Kings” of Bollywood-an outsider may shudder then to see what the
minions and subjects are up to!
Anyways, I guess you
thought when Shahrukh can pick up crappy, crass, children’s book themes and
still retain his fan base, let me show that I would pick up crappier, crasser,
blockheads of films and prove they still gather more millions in the first week
than any other films in history. This however does not prove the awesomeness of
your movies sir, but the awesomeness of your self-selling which is becoming
larger with every passing ad campaign, every PT class dance step, every amusing
word that is super accented and every super vain walk that you manage to enthral
the shutterbugs with.
And what’s with the super
smug attitude these days? I thought those looks were the sole copyright of Mr.
Abhishekh Bachchan in those Idea ads where he manages to give that stance
despite the string of flops. I guess he has your girl and that would explain
the perpetual I-am-better-than-thou grin
transfixed on his face for life; or wait, is it because he was infected with
her coldness during courtship and those features are hence frozen since the day
of his marriage? Never mind if the
emotions have changed thereafter.
Back to you dear, sorry
for these other actors sometimes make me digress. Now look at these youngsters
only, how foolish of them to try newer scripts and themes when they should
learn from you that muscles-shuscles and some heavy dialogue-shialogue mouthed
with anger is the new mantra to ensure box office thronging of masses, at least
on the first day. And once you acquire the mass on the right body parts,
acquire also a designer who stitches shirts with barely there thread work-so
that they furl open at the slightest hint of touch-of the wind, of the water
pipe, of the rub against a heroine’s chest or even if she blows a flying kiss. Watching
bare chests or being in anticipation of it was never so much fun even in the
days of a Choli ki peeche or a Ram tere Ganga Maili.
Now script ka kya karna
hain-throw in some chartbuster songs, get an arm candy girlfriend who is ever
ready to bestow you with item numbers, use lots of people in the movie to
generate cheap laughter like little kids pissing on the villains from the first
storey of a building or the goons falling on a hot tawa by the road side-I mean come on, the fall on hot tawa for generating guffaws act must
have been around since ages and apparently is still working. But these youngsters,
naah, they never learn and want to experiment! Bah!
I recently visited a school
friend’s house and her daughter who is eleven years old, now has a three feet
long poster of you on her wall. Made me feel a bit nostalgic-you are a demi god
to rule over three generations of women apparently
my mother too had a crush on you when you first came around but didn’t confess
it then thinking it would be a bad example for her teenage daughter. I wish you’d give us more of acting than acting to
act. I wish you would play less with your belt and trouser pockets or collars
of your shirts or scratch your bum over
the trouser of course and instead show us
a bit of more innocent you as we loved you then. And flying across two running
trains in a tremendous leap does not suit you at all-we should leave that for
Rajnikant or else how would the sms companies survive without making Rajnikant
the butt of their jokes and circulating him so obnoxiously.
And would you please get
married also now that we are onto it, for it is not good for the health of
99.999% of the rest of the Indian men population who see just one man having
all the fun with the best of chicks. By the way, do these girls ever manage to
hold a considerably sensible conversation or do you never let them open their
mouths at all wise choice therein again? Katrina can not-act-the pants-off anybody and I
guess the ‘off pants’ is the sole reason, she is still rocking the
pants...er...the fans. I mean I saw her in a recent Pantene ad and my gawd she
has managed to bring in more expressions in that one minute than in all her
movies to date! She is progressing, perhaps learning from you!
Being human is also great
if the human here is Salman Khan and being a blue bracelet is greater if it
adorns your wrist. Being a Salman fan is the greatest...please see to it that
it does not relegate to past tense. You’ve ruled the masses and the classes and
with the new hair job and still a fabulous face and of course not to forget the
million dollar body that ensures publicity by itself than any Rakhi Sawant’s
assets ever could-we want you back and
front too, but that’s for another lust dipped day.
Ran...er...fan forever,
Me:-)
P.S. The author is suffering from serious stress due to lack of straining of vocal cords since morning-koi mila nahi pakaane ko..so bechaara Sallu phas gaya.
The justification is made keeping in mind 4 valid points:
1. Maybe my fan base(LOL) circulates this letter a million times like the Madrasan's and I would have to explain my stand in the next post, so doing so now very smart you see
2. Maybe someday I do bump into Salman and he falls in love with me and this letter should not spoil my chances-I definitely want a Bodyguard who looks like Salman although not acts like him. 3. Maybe I get threat calls from some Bhai-abhi to mere khelne koodne ke din hain na...
After a long time I got tagged and found
something interesting to cater to my ‘love being interviewed’ instinct... So here is my 25 point Something-on a run and all in the name
of fun!
1. If you were caught cheating, would you
fess up? There is a whole lot of ‘if’ here and
there’ll be a whole lot of ‘but’ there :-)
2. When was the last time you felt honestly
broken? Is there a dishonest way of being broken too?
3. Are you craving something? You mean besides a killer figure, travelling
around the world, a blog that is read by millions and a complete stress free
life? Yes, and that something knows about it ;-) *feeling super smug at
creating mystery*
4. If you could have one thing right now what
would it? A peek into some brains and a control
over some others! *evil laughter*
5. Would you rather have ten kids, or none? *Aghast expression*I would rather have Maggie,
Biryani, chocolates or brownies-I mean, I know it looks like I eat but spare
the poor kids for god’s sake :-)
6. When was the last time you put your foot
in your mouth? Okay, this happened recently when someone I
was introduced to said he was an engineer working in Accenture (a software
firm) and I asked him if they made cars (remembering the car company Accent,
which I presumed for some god-damn reason, used the nickname of Accent).
Alright, you can LOL now! :(
7. Last person to see you cry? Has to be my beloved and he’s seen me do so,
so many times that even when he sees it now he often sees through :( Besides him many others do off and on and get
to hear ‘Pyaaz kaat rahe the’ or ‘cold ho gaya hain’...thank god for onions or
else half the world would be stuck up in explanations.
8. What do you do when you get nervous? I smile and try to get away or grab whoever
is nearest (please don’t ask me for what).
9. Be honest, do you like people in general? General se waale-NO, non-general se-YEEEEES
10. Whom would you like to see at your
funeral? All those who said they loved me and all
those who couldn’t (But really-SEE here is an overstatement, don’t you think?)
11. Does anyone completely understand you? Yes, but I keep challenging their
understanding every now and then!
12. Have you ever made out in a bathroom? Yes, yes, yes...for once I am so glad I am
married and can answer that without being judged! :-) 13. Do you think the last person you kissed
is nice? Du-U-H! If I had not thought so, I would not
have kissed him, na? Who goes around kissing people who are not nice anyways?
14. Who was your last crush? *Checks her watch*Damn, it is not
working-can’t tell you the exact hour now, can I? :D 15. Love or Lust? It’s like asking brains or beauty! I always
sucked at choice questions-why can’t we say we want to have and eat our pie too,
when either ways it ultimately goes in the tummy? (Okay, I didn’t understand
that myself)
16. Last person to slap you? My class teacher is Class 3 for I entered the
class after recess still chomping food in my mouth. (I guess, it was then I
decided to be a teacher and set an example-who slaps hungry kids or even adults
for that matter?) Or wait this could also be Seeya for she often gives me the
Sunny Deol waala thappad when she gets all whimsical :(
17. Are you afraid of the dark? No, andhere se nahi, andhere mein rehne se
darr lagta hain*waah, waah*
18. Is there anyone you wish was still in
your life? *Smiles*
19. Do you flirt a lot? Define ‘a lot’ :-)
20. Have you found a purpose to your life? Yes, I did and then I did again and before I
could decide among the two, a third one came along-I just have too many things
to do and only one lifetime to do so-life sucks!
21. What is you USP? I can crack PJ’s, I can be a good listener, I
am curious, I am witty...oh wait, you asked for one- I’m genuinely nice
22. Do you believe in Love at First Sight? Yes *moves a hand lovingly over a new pair of
shoes* and no*looks doubtfully even at those professing to be “in love” after
many sightings*-all love is essentially self-love.
23. What situation for you would be like
‘Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea’? Stuck between a witty guy and my beloved...err...actually
that would technically not be a ‘stuck’ situation :D
24. What is your favourite part about your
body? My skin colour (sorry for being such a racist
here)-if that can be a part, the rest was all created at ‘faulty by default’
settings :(
25. What was your secret ambition as you were
growing up? I wanted to be an actress and tell in
interviews that since childhood I wanted to be an actress...magar, kyonki,
parantu aisa ho na saka so I manage with drama in real life:-)
Alright, this was
cool-please take up the tag whoever wants to!
I am not much of a science
person. In fact I fear what if someday the world comes to an end and I am the
only one left of my species, who is stumbled upon by a newly formed,
genetically evolved race, out of the debris of the nuclear wastes in some
tropical forests I am so proud of myself
for making this sound so Terminator-ish;
they ask me how my world was and I tell them of televisions and mobile phones
of air conditioners and of the internet or aeroplanes and other stuff but with
no fucking idea of how they can be made or made to work. That would be the end
of the human race, hitherto symbolised by me.
But I do respect invention
despite the fact that I think our technologists and scientists are all on a wide
off the mark trail of innovation currently. Studying some rare species of ants
in same rarer grasslands or how feeding 500 people for 500 days with xyz food
would have what result in the body, is a big fat bundle of hogwash. The world
needs some things else...
Imagine such dilemmas that
we face every day:
I think my boyfriend broke up with me because he felt I was too
insecure...
*Accusations raised at you* The baby fell ill because of what you did/did
not...
I think the girl likes me more for my money than my company...
“Agar aap aise sawaalon se pareshaan aur hairaan hain, to chinta na
karen:
Introducing now: The FINDOMETER!
Just voice your question into this amazing new gadget and pat would come out a placard with a yes/no to
your query along with the actual reason for the occurrence of the seed of
doubt. It helps redeem lives! Book now and get a Lie Detector free! Offer valid
till stocks last.”
Now that
would be one invention that would result in less depressed souls around the
planet.
Or perhaps a gadget/super
power by which you close your eyes and say the name of the place followed by
Abracadabra and voila, you reach there within a blink. I shall name it the ANYWHERE BLINKER. Visualize going to
the beach of Goa as in right now, without the hassles of travelling or expenses
or any packing of bags. Just slip into your beachwear in your room, dab some
sunscreen, blink those beautiful eyes and open them to the sight of the vast
expanse of beckoning sea and tempting life guards. Spend two hours on the
beach, close your eyes again and say ‘Kanpur Abracadabra’ and return back to
wake the sleeping baby from her afternoon siesta. Yes, thoughts like these fill
up the vast dingy and vacant corners of my almost empty mind when sleep eludes
me and life and even Facebook with its din and glory fail to entice. The
devil’s workshop comes into existence with a bang and flourishes, with or
without takers.
Do you realize what a path
breaking innovation this would be-as relevant to history as the discovery of
electricity or gravity perhaps? That means no congestion of traffic on roads;
no need for petrol and thereby no burning of fossil fuels and no global
warming. You don’t have to wake up an hour earlier because that’s how much time
it takes for you to commute to work every day. There is no competition for
owning a big car vis-Ã -vis a small one for there would be no cars-no horns, no
need for driving licenses or depending on husbands to drive us around and no
car sickness! It’s a cure all! No accidents, where hundreds of lives are lost.
My god, I am a genius!
But the idea needs a bit
of R&D, ab saara kaam mein he thoda
na karonge-why did these scientists take up their jobs in the first place? Like there would always be some perverts who’d close
their eyes and say ‘Kareena Kapoor’s bathroom Abracadabra’. So for these jerks
there would be features like ‘Spam Enterers’, ‘Customize Personal Radius’,
‘Knock my Block’ and the likes. I am the next Mark Zuckerburg or what!
My suggestion list has
more mind boggling prospects-
The FAT TRANSPORTER-a gadget that would come like with two wide belts connected via a
pipe. So when one wears it, there would be fat transforming into painless
droplets and travel through the tube into another belt and thereby into the body
of a severely under nourished specimen. Within a few hours both get the desired
weight without any side effects or pain. So there would be no treadmills, steam
or sauna rooms and the likes that emit carbon and do other blah blah damage to
our poor environment.
The SEXPULATION-
a powdery substance, which when sprinkled even a pinch bhar on the body of your
spouse when he is horny, would give him the satiation of having just had sex
and turn around and sleep without a cribbing or accusing word. Can you imagine
how many women around the globe would not mind forgetting to have a pillow
under their head before going to sleep, but not a packet of the Sexpulation?
The CASSANOVA REPAIRER: Something that helps change a philandering
boyfriend/husband okay fine even the
fairer sex into a loyal-for-life one! All
you have to do is throw a bottle of this liquid on his head like some headless people
throw acid on some helpless women. And to know if he really loves you or not
please use the Findometer!
The CLONER:
a machine that makes you stand in a state-of-the-art cylinder for two minutes
to create a clone of you, so identical that you’ll feel you are standing in
front of a mirror. So you won’t HAVE TO be anywhere that you don’t want to be
or not be anywhere that you want to for a fixed number of hours before the
clone evaporates in air.
Alright all big heads, I
have provided you the brain wave here-get your pretty asses on some work and
start inventing these. I don’t need any credit nor would sue you for any
copyright claims sometimes I wonder if I
am more hopelessly romantic or more hopelessly magnanimous except that when these do come about, kindly try and
test them and then send me one of each! Thank you and may your imagination
never rest. And in case the brilliant inventors and scientists don’t stumble
upon my page even Einstein apparently
lived in anonymity till his worth was realized, let this be an open letter to God to send me a magic wand or if not
at least a witch’s broom!
I know I should write
more, I want to write more, but alas-
The cruel intentions of
time
And lack of ideas in my
mind,
Constrain me to chime,
rhyme or whine!
Waah, yeh to poetry ho
gaye:-)
And since I can’t manage
my one blog with regular updates, I have gone ahead and done the most logical
thing on this planet that there can be:
Joined another blog and
their team of writers you can nominate me
for the Most Logical Thinker Award this year.
But really, Darlings of Venus is an
amazing place to be a part of, where a group of dynamic girls yes, I think just the idea that I’ll be teamed in with
the “girls” was motivation enough would
bring you everything girlie that every man should know and every woman should
follow. It seems like a promising and a fun place and I have already left my
imprints there -god help them now! Obviously, you are supposed to check this out too: Decoding
Men who live in the Loo! This may be an eye opener, though we prefer
it to be the washroom-door-opener instead!
Waise bhi I am in a little
thoughtful mood these days-thankfully I don’t take many risks by going beyond
the “little”. My posts with my so-called Encounters with men, which are
actually not even encounters-more like window shopping don’t ask me to explainthat seem to have given the impression to many that I am
Lady Ranjeet on the loose don’t ask again
who that is-I am not Google.
Oh, I am so hurt! Matlab
logon ne yeh samajh bhi kaise liye-ki mera koi standard he nahi hain! And
whatever happened to new age villains and vamps that they had to compare me to
the obnoxious looking, old-even-in-his-youth, Ranjeet; although thankfully
Shakti Kapoor didn’t come to their dim brains. Some readers owing to my
own over-the-top excitement to generate something notable in the mundane think that I strip men mentally-I almost anticipate a
day when boys would button up even the collar buttons of their shirt on seeing
me for otherwise there might be a close-up of my face where my eyes glimmer
with lust and I roll my tongue over my upper lip, for I saw some man-flesh just like in Hindi films, heroines ka pullo would
sarko to show a dint of the cleavage and turn the watching man into a hungry
beast.
And perhaps fathers would tell their sons to get inside the house as Suruchi is on
the prowl and I would be asked questions on the street like-ghar mein baap-bhai
nahi hain kya? Why don’t they ask for the complete package of “ma, behen
and patni” by the way, in Hindi movies to cover all possibilities, kyonki mere
ghar mein to actually baap and bhai nahi hain, woh to apne ghar mein honge, na.
Aise to they would motivate me to do wrong, na?Anyways, point is-Wtf!
Mere andar ki sati savitri ko kitna kasht hua hain-many days of chocolates,
brownies and flirting would be required to drown my sorrows.
In my frustration I put up
this status on Facebook where people in large numbers extended their support to
me oh crap, now I feel like Anna!
"Okay, time for a recheck on
our freedom of expression-I have two blogger friends
on my friends list who are dating each other n knowing how I talk n my updates,
apparently she warned him to stay away from me feeling that I am too wild for
anybody's good. She has deleted me from her friends list (good for her and me).
What I would like to ask-Are people so duh now that they cannot see my humour n
exaggeration just to evoke laughter, often at my own expense by all the drama?
Or is understanding of wit such an unreasonable thing to expect in friends?"
I am also asked how my students/G
feels about all these men! Helloooo, where are these bloody men, in the first
place???????? My wishful hoping for some adventure is infectious it seems and
drugged you all into thinking the same as reality perhaps...ah, it is still hurting and I don't even have Dettol antiseptic at home!*read this as my way of telling you
that it is now time to shower me with some compliments*. And before you lose track
of your goal mentioned in the asterisk, let me depart with my contemplations of
an early sanyaas-damn you Himalayas for
still not having sexy saadhus in your lush green set up!
I love it when I tell you
the shirt you bought so lovingly without me, is just about okay and you rarely
wear it again.
