How to keep the Husband Hooked n Booked?

How to keep the husband hooked n booked?
-THE ESSENTIAL COMMANDMENTS...

Part 1:
Little everyday efforts which every woman should practise...and please it doesn’t make us drubbed or less feminist:

1. Wake him up each day with a gentle pat on the cheek and a hush mush voice, coming close and resting your cheek on his...make sure this does not become a startling act instead...just a tender ‘wake up to me honey’ kinda thing.

2. Follow it up with a kiss on the cheek and a hug...just as his eyes have opened up...it is always soothing to feel you are waking up to a dream come true and also always hug, snuggle and kiss good night...sleeping into a dream!

3. Make sure he gets his meals as soon as he comes on the dining table or on time...the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach...but then only when it is empty and not stretched!

4. Keep his cupboards neat and things easily accessible. Don’t tamper with his things without asking...

5. Cook food or contrive anything reasonably edible even if he wakes you up at 4 am (yes, in the morning) for it.

6. It makes you no less modern if you press his feet once in a while after a tiring day or give him a hot oil head massage...and watch how eagerly the favours are returned...you’d be surprised to find that men love it if their shoes and socks are removed lovingly by you once in a while.

7. Drop all chores and greet him with a smile and a hug when he returns back from work...and follow it up with a glass of water...that’s the least by the way...I am leaving room for innovation n improvisation here.

8. Stand by him if he’s been slighted or ignored, especially by family members or relatives from your side.

9. Always ask your man’s choice before picking up clothes for yourself and try to follow mostly what he suggests. Makes him feel that you value his opinion! If his own choice sucks...give him option between the two things that you most like in the shop and any one of them, if picked, would do just as well!

10. When he is talking to you...lend him your ears (and the rest of the body too) completely and show no distractions...Nothing interests a man than a woman who’s interested in him...ok, correction...a “hot” woman who’s interested in him!

11. Once in a while, cancel outing programmes when he’s not in the mood or tag along even if disinterested, when he’s all for a party....kuch paane ke liye kuch khona padta hain...kabhi kabhi hansne ke liye thoda rona padta hain!

12. Keep his hot water bucket ready and covered with a sill before he gets into the loo for a shower...refurnish his toothbrush, toothpaste, his shaving blades, etc before he’d have to ask you for it. Heck, I even used to keep his entire clothes from the UG’s to the sparkling shoes ready and laid out on the bed before he got out of the bathroom.

13. If he goes to work unwell, call up a couple of times to ensure he’s ok or send in a medicine...stay up with him if he can’t sleep...a cuddle here works wonders.

14. Be the one to initiate a kiss and make up...saying sorry never hurts anyone....we can’t compete with men’s ego anyways!

15. Take the enterprise to dress with just as much bother when going out alone with him...as you do when going out with couple friends.

16. Laugh at his jokes and with him...go up to him if he’s standing alone at a party or getting bored, even of it means leaving your own gang...

17. Avoid blame games and angry outbursts and the phrase “I told you so...” Keep the explaining for later when you both are quieter.

18. Give him space...for boys night out, for watching television late night or being on the internet once in a while, for wanting to be alone, for choosing the clothes he wants to wear, etc.

19. Make him feel it is ok with you if he communicates with female friends...in fact share his interests in the opposite sex by being casual about it, encouraging him to feel free to share things with you.

20. Remember the tasks he asked you to carry out before leaving for work or make a note of them...get his medicine, sew the button, keep the evening shirt ironed, call up the sick relative, get the fused tube light changed, or the spider webs from the bathroom window removed, etc. Get it done without reminders!




Part 2:
These are sure shot winners, come on gals add that zing and dash of romance:
1. Remember dates and days that matter to him...and make them special and memorable...like the day he grabbed a big contract or deal, calls for a pastry n candle waiting on his return that says “You are a genius”

2. His birthdays should be flooded with special gestures- give him as many knick knacks as gifts as the age he is stepping into...a surprise party...candle lit your room...make him a king for the day!

3. Hold hands sometimes in public like while watching a movie in a theatre or playing footsy from under the table.

4. Form your own codes to be able to send across a message even in a crowd...like touching the nose means wanna hug you, pulling ears stands for a much needed kiss....and so on!

5. Occasionally put little notes in his travelling bag, in office pouch or in his cupboard to remind him of you always.

6. Have your own song that reminds you of each other whenever it’s played anywhere...create a love poem for him with mad personal touches of course and yup keep the language simple...you are not writing for Shakespeare, gals!

7. Put photographs of your holidays or just the two of you together in the room...on the walls or in frames on shelves around...nope, you are not giving him an overdose of you...you remind him every now and then that his life with you is beautiful.

8. Text personal mobile love messages just like that and send them each day, till it becomes a ‘looking forward to’ habit...make the message sexy to double the impact...men go dumb n numb under the influence of seductive provocation, even if it’s just in words!

9. A nice body massage if done properly can ignite many a flame...introduce more physical variety to spice up lives...and throw the head-ache woes out of the window...Take a spa treatment together or gift him one...showers together always do more than just double cleaning!

10. Buy new lingerie every now and then...there’s nothing as exciting for him to hear you say mischievously... ‘you get into bed and I’ll be back in a minute’ ...and then come back n how;)

11. Tuck him in bed and under the sheets every night...make him cosy howsoever he may desire it....and by how so ever...I hope so ever that you get my point

12. Say ‘I love you’ everyday and in every possible way...like in the fog clad night, written with your fingers on the glass of the car...or after a hot bath on the steam masked mirror...on the sand or with bamboo sticks laid out on the beach...with diyas saying it adorning the floor when he walks in for a surprise.

13. Go for walks or long drives just like that...create a CD of all his favourite songs and put that on or update his I-pod...have morning tea or after dinner walk together...form rituals and be around at the times when he is mostly alone...fill up his voids.

14. Plan a boys night out for him that’s a surprise...do all the bookings and maybe once in a blue moon make it an all expenses paid outing...you would have a rent in your pocket but never in your heart

15. Keep buying gifts of no reason or occasion for him every now and then....like a shirt when you go shopping for yourself, or a take away burger when you went for your gals only brunch!

16. It makes a man so proud when the girl on his arm shows him a hot chick that he must check out before she gets out of the domain. He’d just be looking at her with you, instead of looking for excuses to send you in the shops and then ogle. I do that all the time...sometimes we even discuss the assets and their worth and have a good laugh over it.

17. Share his past...make him talk about his school days, college gigs, girlfriends n crushes, memorable moments...gently persist of he resists and not forcefully demand...and please don’t hold on to the past...learn to accept it and move on.

18. Take him out for a date dinner some night...He does not need to take his wallet because this one’s on you...drive him there, keep a mini bar ready in the car (means two glasses, an ice bucket a packet of chips and the drinks...see not much!) and push back his seat and let him relax...make sure to stop the car in a deserted place for some sweet “mouth” savouries every now and then!

19. Learn to pack his suitcase for his journeys and make the effort to ensure his comfort like put newspapers in the shirts so that they don’t crinkle, a mini medical kit, extra polythenes to put in used clothes, etc.

20. You must give him a hang of close...real close dancing at least once through a dancing out night...it should be his moment there with you when you make him unaware of people, noise or other hot chicks around coz you are stupendously n teasingly close yet not really “in”.


Part 3:
What every woman should know...and remember too for these are the basics...The ABC...I know you know, but a reminder never hurts...
1. Respect his parents.
2. Appreciate his efforts n shower compliments regularly.
3. Keep his home and home atmosphere neat and pleasant.
4. Share his hassles and encourage his interests.
5. Control your anger and never shout at him.
6. Adapt to his friends...at least sometimes if not always.
7. Cook what he likes occasionally.
8. Look presentable when you go out, if not a head turner.
9. Learn to trace his mood and act accordingly.
10. Give him company and time.
11. Don’t nag, complain or crib all the time.
12. Don’t start off with in-laws woes as soon as he enters home.
13. Don’t go on n on about your own parents and family.
14. Don’t compare him with anyone, even to educate him.
15. Don’t underestimate the power of physical intimacy.
16. Never laugh at him publically or check him always on his actions.
17. Never criticize a gift given by him.
18. Money doesn’t count all the time...don’t scrutinize or post-mortem all his spending.
19. Be yourself!
20. Keep the romance alive, be his support and strength and by his side always.

Happy hubby humping!

An Open Letter to You My Love...

Dear Beloved,
You asked me to write something for you and I smiled...
Not just expressed in the uplifting corners of my mouth,
But also a springing or a bounce within...
An outcome of eternal bliss that you give to me,
By everything you say and the little-little things you do everyday...
Nobody has asked me ever to write something for them...
Well, nobody has ever done or said so many things to me
That you do and say...
It’s as though together we sublime...
It’s as though with full right you demand something that’s yours
And with full peace, I provide you something that’s no longer mine!

What do you write for someone who is in you and a part of your fabric?
Would not that be like writing about my own self?
For once I was just I,
When you were just you...
But now something else is true...
Now the boundaries have faded...
Our mingling has jaded,
Any sense of my existence without you!

Being with you, brings a losing of the sense of
Time, space, relativity and individuality!
It’s like a whole less ‘me’
And a whole more ‘we’!
With you around I feel snug and protected in an unnamed aura that would never leave my side...
With you all other voices become noises...
All other matters become immaterial...
All other dreams become an illusion...
The way you spin my reality in totality!

When you just smile and say ‘Good Morning’
It brings a blood pumping start to an otherwise mundane day!
Or when you stretch out and kiss my forehead
Or tuck me in the blanket before we go to bed!
Whether you are corny or horny, dumb or numb,
Reeling or revealing, wit personified or philosophical, sane or insane...
You are one of a kind! You truly are a find!

You are a mystery, a charm, an enticing and mad experience that I am so glad I have gone through...
Living with you each day...yet each day is like the start of a new phase...
You are tender and mild...and yet strong and wild!
You are like the gentle rain when I need to be soothed...
You are like the piercing rays when I need to be guided...
You are the unfolding tree when I need shelter...
You are the sturdy earth when my feet falter...
You are like the sweet song that I want always to be serenaded...
You are like the thirst quenching water that is deeply embedded!

Sometimes I wonder...
Is it actually possible for someone to love another so much...Is it really true that you are so blinded to my faults that you only see perfection?
Are you for real or a bad joke that fate is playing on me...comforting me with false sense of possession and self belief...of what you are and what I can’t be!
Is this for real or would I be pinched soon,
Facing broken hopes and loneliness, haunted by memories of our times so dear?
Love brings peace and love brings fear.

With you I comprehend the import of what were just words for me...
You are the first and you’d be the last...
You are the reason why I am here
And the deciding factor of how I may depart...!

With all that’s mine,
Yours only,
Me:)

All you ever wanted to know about farts and didn't know whom to ask!

P.S. (yup...Post Script in the beginning coz I am different and this is no ordinary post...It’s an attempt go where no man has gone before...although I am sure there’s no SUCH place where a man hasn’t pushed or shoved his way and gone!). My post “Who’s done it?” got me so tempted to also enumerate my insane and abundant experiences with the farting basics and traumas!
Yup and if you were duh enough to be left wondering in there...you can stop rubbing your eyes now, scratching your head and re-reading the passages to try to guess what the bloody f@#$ I was talking about in that post...it’s all about farting and no denying that it’s a fart prone world that we live in!

Considering this is the most widely prevalent, global phenomenon, more in our face literally than global warming or population...because everyone from the Blacks to the Whites, virgins to voyeurs, saints to sinners, kings to beggars do it...most regularly and usually similarly, we do need a guideline to be able to easily and non-messily trod this turf!

KNOW YOUR FARTS:
The Silent Ass...Assault:
(When you ‘feel’ and sense it, look around dubiously but don’t see or hear it and are left wondering about its point of origin! He goes about doing his job so with such subtlety that he's a genius in his own right)

The Thundering Applauder:
(When you hear it and it blocks your nose as well as ears almost forcing from you a standing ovation, bole to stand up and run, dude!)

The Machine-gun Firing:
(It’s like the Diwali Seiko bomb thread...guaranteed to go on and on, one after another...pat, pat, pat till all ammunition of the body changes state and pollutes the bloody environment)

The Clarion Announcement:
(It’s long and bhopu waala baaja types...very disharmonious...at least make it sound better if not smell...It goes like the out of tune shehnai....poooooooooooooooo)

The Been-there-done-that:
(This one provides a view along with sound effects...why should the eyes as senses be left behind? The brightness of yellow, gold, mustard and other bhai behens of this family’s hues, make their presence felt by sticking conspicuously to the clothes...ab bolke dikhao Ariel waalon ke... ‘Daag ache hain!’)

The Constipated Delivery:
(Comes like an explosive thud of a ‘climax’ after repeated pushes like the sounds from the delivery room of a pregnant woman...a hesitant delivery after balanced constraining of every muscle in the body, filled with nervous anxiety whether along with gaseous state of things...liquids and solids might not surface too)

The Tell-all of what you ate:
(Hmm...prepare to test the distinguishing abilities of your poor nose...for on the platter would be an amalgamation of multi-cuisines and you just have to close your eyes and whiff...Waise, the guess game helps in diverting the mind from the stench)


The Spluttering Release:
(This one is like an old scooter...you press the...aa...whatever and it sputters a sound...but then you have to apply force again and it goes vroom and breaks, vroom and breaks..you feel now it would kick start...but no, it goes through many whims and sounds before speeding out almost in a burst)


The Sigh! Sigh! Emission:
(This one’s not for the world for only the suffering heart knows the pain it bears...it’s the situation when you’ve been released and you are unaware...or the predicament when you sigh and wish it was you who caused the emission but fate would have it otherwise and make you grin and bear/bare.)


The Oh-what-a-relief Liberation:
(This is like the virtual life...when you go in a make belief world that you have been liberated...and the relief glows from trouser to trouser...oops ear to ear...and you say “Dear lord..thank god I’ve come” I hope no puns have been taken!)


HOW TO TRACE THE SYMPTOMS BEFORE DISASTER STRIKES?
When the thundering explosion announces its arrival...I am afraid my friend...there’s just no hope or scope!
But when there’s no sound but loads of scattering action, there are early indications of the calamity so you can run for shelter:
Like when you see someone lift one circle of their butt just a wee bit to make space between their lower ‘partition’ and the seat that holds them...A keen observer would easily notice the facial expressions getting taut and soon released and the ‘someone’ looking here and there sheepishly...Be ready, then my friend, to get your nose assaulted...so learn to pick the culprit instead of clipping the nose later. If at first go you can’t crack the mystery, don’t fret...practice makes perfect...life gives plenty of opportunities for this one!


THE BLAME GAME:
More people are guilty of this kind of explosive and then the blaming assault on innocent specimens of their species than all the homicide action combined. They may not have gone on any stage but their performance of innocence and ignorance after their emission is Oscar worthy.

Some choose to rest the blame on the fellows around being the first to ask...who’s done it? Still others would shoot out their own discomfort and in a hurry leave the crime scene before its fragrance scatters...much common spot hopping behaviour in parties can be attributed to this urgency. Some like my beloved while driving back home after a sumptuous dinner, would suddenly open the window of the car...although I tell him “Honey, my nostrils are used to of this fragrance...just pull up the window before I catch the cold”. Talking about shit and shitty stuff is his favourite preoccupation, though he prefers to call it ‘pokis’ and now half the mankind on my side of the planet terms it so!

Also worthy of a mention here is a sweet old lady of my acquaintance, may god rest her soul...who had this beautiful little habit of calling over guests at home...and just as they’d sit around the dining table to gorge...she would start of her loud explosions, stopping those spoons at the edge of our lips and forbidding them from going in till the dust kinda settled!

I want to say more, you know my habit...I can go on and on n on...A dear friend describes me as the gal who can write ten pages of how she spent the last five minutes on earth...I can offer homeopathic, spiritual, yogic, psychological, mental but not so detrimental solutions and more...but I would spare you guys and allow you to rest those facial muscles that have been scrunching the nose as well as giving a broad grin as they are reading this...Plus it’s been a long post and long time since you raised that cute butt for nature’s call...
Before you victimize those around you with crimes mentioned above...rush my friend rush...I’d be around when your return!
Happy shitting guys-and "spread" the message;)!

What Women say and what they really mean!

Just as there is a universal cry of women of all shapes and sizes, saying they do not understand their men; similar is the plight of the so-called superior sex...They’d have complete comprehension of rocket science, they’d applaud the matrix like nobody’s business, they’ll solve the worst of Sudoku in the newspaper or spot a calculation mistake in her metre long grocery bill. But ask them if they’ve unravelled the mystery of knowing a woman and they’d look at you as though you are babbling in an alien language and even after translation it would remain the most bloody absurd query they ever came across. They’d reason...I mean who in his bloody senses could ever understand a bloody woman?

You are bloody right and that’s where I come in...Your bloody saviour...guided by my little knowledge (before u doubt it...it’s enough to get you by), some teeny weenie bit of experiences (yup, those that ended in the right direction) and loads of imagination (Don’t worry, I am not assuming a strip tease of you right now...or am I...or whatever!)

There’s a huge difference (like say the difference between Amsterdam and Delhi ka Lal Quilla section...you know what I mean) between the actual spoken words and the import of what women say...so in all my magnanimity and by hearsay, I try here to do you an almost unconditional favour be decoding these verbal utterances...The only condition being...kindly reciprocate effectively, appropriately, sufficiently and accordingly whenever I demand it;)

So when your gal, woman, and dame or pain-in-the-a@@ says:
"We’ve talked a long while on phone today, I think you better go and get some work done"
The biggest dumbf@#$ing lie this is...
Never my dear man friend, fall for it....
She’s secretly hoping within you would say “Arrey no work is more important than you...everything else comes later...”
Say it and score big time!


"Do you think I look fat in this?"
This one’s eternal...and I guess even the biggest of jerks, geeks and dumb heads are by now well versed in handling it....
Don’t try: Ya honey...I think the curves on the sides are appearing a bit too bulgy as the clinging dress brings them out more horrendously (WHACK, WHACK...that’s the sound you would hear with your ears or feel on your cheeks...paid either in literal terms or in kind)
Do try: Not at all darling...u look like my princess...take a circle before the mirror and check out yourself...(Well, I would have come up with something wittier guys...but sorry, there’s no way you can tell your woman she’s not looking hot and get away with it!)

"I’m really not bothered if you talk to other women?"
Whattttttttttt? What a nerve? (This is us thinking in our over reacting minds with one eyebrow up vamp-ishly)...Bothered??? I am bloody hell blasting just now. By my own experience I know a man and a woman can never be friends! I better keep a double check on his whereabouts and action sequences henceforth! I need to accompany him everywhere now. What’s she got which I ain’t got!

"I am completely over my ex-flame...in fact take me before him now and I won’t so much as flutter my lids"
Big fat lie of the highest order guys...beware...don’t fall for it and actually take her there...For then would start the rounds of gregariousness and a lively display of affection towards you only to make the ‘past tense guy’ inflamed and go green...just accept it and make peace...or look for an emotional virgin!

"Oh if you are not well, we’d cancel the dinner date/plans honey...some other time...your health is more important"
Dumb schmuk...you should have listened to me when I was telling you to wear that jacket when you went strolling in the fog...or when I told you to remove those ice balls mounting in your drink last night...or to have taken the darn medicine when I suggested it this morning! Well, at least have a good memory now and remember now for Christ’s sake that I AM DOING THIS SACRIFICE FOR YOU!

"I so understand the need for your boy’s night out...I don’t mind at all. Have fun baby!"
Hmm...so you think you can have fun without me? God ji, please let him get bored to death and realize my value so he swears never to step out of home without me flaunted in his arm. And those friends of yours...I wish God gives you more common sense to let go of these bunch of losers! Let me assent this once to be able to dissent on the next four occasions!


"I am fine really...I don’t need a doctor...I’ll manage on my own!"
Hey bhagwaan...is bande ke aankhen hain ya button? Can’t he see I need pampering now ASAP and someone to hold that handkerchief when I blow into it and someone to hold my hand when I moan in pain, so what if the fever is just 99 degree C? Someone to take me to the doctor and tell me he’d do my homework/order food from outside so I don’t have to cook....Sigh! Sigh!


"It’s alright if you forgot my birthday...hota hain kabhi kabhi!"
OH MY GOD....this is what I get after months of my dedicated service...you my dear are right on top of my hit list...We’re so over and you won’t know what hit you...As if you sauntering in without a gift was not enough, you committed the cardinal sin of forgetting the whole event altogether and thereby the celebration of my birthday week!


"It’s not the material worth of a gift that matters...it is the feeling behind it"
Hmm...What possibly dumb logic of a feeling is involved in giving me a clinical thermometer show piece on our first anniversary! And when you said for you size does matter...why didn’t you bloody tell me you were not talking of diamonds?


"Don’t be silly...you won’t say anything to that sweet boy...he wasn’t oogling, he seems from a good family"
Blah, blah, blah, blah...we will go on and on to convince you that the dangerously attractive and tempting stranger is harmless...Secret admirers should be allowed to protectively blossom not crushed in the bud..


"Don’t you think we should take a break for a while in our relation?"
I am sick and tired of you...it was a bloody mistake to say the three letter words in the first place and now I just can’t stand you...Either flatter me more or get flat off my orbit!


"Oh! I am so overwhelmed at your proposal...I don’t know what to say!"
Whatttttttttt? Why do all the weirdoes end up finding me? How do I tell him that he needs to look at his face in the mirror again? I don’t know how to turn him down without being branded a bitch?

And now brace yourselves for the mother of it all:
"Tumhaara aur mera to saat janmon ka saath hain"
Ya right...and let’s hope this is the seventh one!


P.S. This was just in good humour my friends...the author takes no claims to authenticity or efficacy of the suggestions made. Kindly follow them under the professional guidance and any resemblance to me or any other woman you know of is purely coincidental...hehe;)

Men n Libidos and Women n Head-aches!

The eternal combo of wrangle off the shelf...Men have been inseparable from the carnal sin and women have been too attached to their head ache woes or so they project! Just as men would continue to feel horny, women would continue to find that corny!
And so they live spitefully ever after!

It’s amazing how differently as species or kinds, we are programmed. Take a man anywhere and he’d turn and return to sex. You tell him the weather is awesome and he’d snap back with...ya, the perfect setting for mad, wild sex! Tell him you feel hot and pat would come the reply...you need to shed off your clothes darling and release that heat in the sack. Tell him that you feel dull today and the solution would be exciting in-the-sheet activities to get the adrenalin pumping and pepping you up. A woman needs to just get close...a simple embrace is not so simple and a touch of a woman is not just that- a touch...it has “far reaching” consequences. For men the world begins and ends at sex. Yes, it does...no point in denying that wise guy and no point in defending him about it dear lady!

A wise dear friend of mine says...sex for an average Indian guy takes about 7 minutes, including the car park time and that of shedding the garbs! Hmm...Very profound must say! So just for this seven minute sprint and maybe a minute of orgasmic pleasure...they spend their lives fantasising and conspiring to get laid and keep getting there. Women, it’s no rocket science, are constituted a bit differently. While a miniscule section may differ, the majority cannot have it every day or at the drop of a hat, they can’t drop it all...unless they feel a kinda connection and arousing yearning.

So since the other general excuses are not perennial...like it’s the those-four-days time, I had a long day at office and I am tired, you’ve eaten too much and hence too heavy to come on top...I’ve eaten too much and hence spare me the drill...I was busy doing your mother’s errands all day, etc, etc...The best option left ultimately is of headache, for it can come out anytime and anywhere, to timely rescue...But just check dear ladies that he may be toying with the idea of taking you for shopping after the hot session...So this path should be carefully trodden!

The head aches vs. sex stories have been infamous through history....here are some such topical jokes that commit to my memory, despite me being pathetic at conniving them on short notice...

(1) A husband one night, just before they were going to sleep, brought a glass of water and a tablet of Aspirin to his wife and told her to have it...She was utterly puzzled and said, “But why? I don’t have a head-ache!” With a wicked smile on his face he retorted, “Ok then, since it’s confirmed, take off your clothes and let’s have hot wild sex”.

(2) Man to friend: After years of marriage finally my wife and I have become sexually compatible. Now we both get head-aches at the same time!

(3) Santa was sucking his fingers and kissing his palms...when asked why, he said, “My wife has a head ache, so this is foreplay before self-help”.

And many more that I’ve heard down the ages, read in messages on mobile and mails... and thus the infamous tangle continues! Men would continue to be fixated and women continue to be frustrated about running out of excuses to dodge. We continue to wonder why men are so imaginative and skilled before and during the act...not realizing that they are plugged into a genius- that’s we the women kind! If only we women learn to crib less and be just as creative! If only the men also realize to be just as inspired in related areas and give romance a thumbs-up over lust!

Just as the fairer sex releases her latent tangles by talking, the superior sex gets de-stressed by taking out “things” to their beloved. So instead of the bicker and battle...let’s understand and rattle the bed...to bring a rocking calm and climax to both ends....of the mind I mean and the body would comply too. For most normal men, sex at most normal times, is a necessity and not just need. For most normal women at most normal times, sex is a desire and not just a drive. We don’t need to compromise...we need to adapt and empathise...so that we don’t live spitefully ever after...but happily ever after! Amen!

My Weekend Get-away to Orchha!

About 20 kms from Jhansi, amidst rolling hills and scrubby dhak forests, lies the riverside township of Orchha. Located at the banks of Betwa river, Orchha was once the capital of Bundela kings and hence a major tourist destination of Madhya Pradhesh, lined with architecturally beautiful temples and monuments and a handful of super comfy resorts. Our destination for the two days get-away was Hotel Amar Mahal, just a stone’s throw away from the impressive cenotaphs on the Betwa River and providing panoramic views of the breath taking scenes around. The hotel is built and decorated in the traditional Bundelkhand architectural style and hence offers you a luxurious stay in almost the laps of royalty.

It’s been ages since I have been aching for a holiday and grilling my beloved with slow persistent torture, almost bordering to being a nag for it, till the poor victim finally gave in. We bargained to come to reasonable terms- I demanded a full-fledged, long holiday to somewhere far off where I could satisfy the exploration germs wriggling in every pore of my body; he offered a weekend break to some place near, where we just go, dump in ourselves and relax for a couple of days. Phew! Beggars can’t be choosers and with a deep sigh, this time I gave in. Another couple friends were roped in and since I thoroughly enjoy their company, my peppy genes finally began to bounce. Though just a couple of days before on my birthday, they came over to our house with their two little kids to give us a taste of how the holiday would be with those pair of mini terrorists around. Within a matter of a few minutes they ransacked my room and the little one (who was turning two just the next day) managed to scream his guts and our ears out...sigh! Sigh! Never mind I said summoning all my bravery at my urgent service...wahan ja kar he samjhenge ab!

So I cancelled my tuitions on Gandhi Jayanti and the day after. My kiddos asked me “Ma’m Friday is 2nd October so no classes, but why a holiday on 3rd October too?” A wise guy among them replied, “Ma’m is celebrating Gandhi Jayanti for two days...” I burst out laughing, unable to control the chirpy tickle that had set within! I also called on duty my culinary skills and managed to contrive some mayonnaise sandwiches and as for the rest of the knick knacks...why in god’s name have they opened bakeries and general stores? For a two days trip, we were carrying ammunition of snacks to feed us all for a week...this despite the fact that we had an all meals inclusive package.

Though scheduled to start at 7 a.m., we managed to leave Kanpur at around 8. 45 a.m. Slow start...but a start nevertheless! Watching Ganga maiyya being left behind, brought in the feeling of wow, I am finally out of town for a holi-holiday...hurray, hurray! After a literally rocking ride of not such smooth streets with strategically placed rocks and ditches all over, the five and a half hours somehow passed amidst laughters and jokes and also chips and namkeen bits sticking out of our hair and surfacing suddenly from some part of our body...we managed to enter the throes of Hotel Amar Mahal at around 2. 30p.m.

While the sight of the almost dead city had dulled our spirits, for it is barely extended to a radius of 10 kms and so less populated that you begin to wonder if the national population control drive was followed painstakingly only in Orchha...but the sight of a fort cum castle like resort managed to uplift things appropriately. Our bookings were confirmed and soon we were escorted to our rooms, passing a few expiry date firangs on the way. Expiry date bole to...those 50 plus generation, with one feet in the grave, who decide to travel the world before they eventually journey down to their sepulchres and some managing to do so even on their way! So there went the hopes and expectations of my dear beloved to come across some hot goore maim tanning herself on the pool side and just might in a moment of insanity ask him to rub the sun tan lotion on her back. His bubble burst, I was the only consolation at hand, and so we were decidedly in the room for the next couple of hours, discovering passionately what we’ve been digging since nine years of our matrimony! Umeed pe duniya kaayam hain...maybe we just might stumble upon a new ‘eureka’ moment! Since it’s the city of excavations, we must put in our suitable contribution.

The pool side view was awesome and all through the way I had been luring and beckoning the rain gods to join us and I had promised to give in and get drenched in his arms if he chose to wet me! And even the rain gods obliged...males just can’t resist the sight if women bathing in the tumbling waters with clothes sticking to their skins...and the rain god proved his masculinity.

The weather became awesome, with cool breeze blowing and the floor of heaven being captivatingly wrapped in dark fluffy clouds, as we got dressed to click pictures (face book uploads are always in the back of my mind...at least those who couldn’t accompany us might as well get a burning, jealousy-wrapped taste of how we had a blast...next time ke victims to join me for a holiday get confirmed in this way!) All the rooms face a spacious chowk having a Mughal garden laid out in it...the place was lush green, intricate carving and paint sculpting and nakashhi adorning the walls. It was time to eat, drink and be merry because it had begun to drizzle and we just gazed at the beauty and peace that enveloped us from all sides.

The next morning...I could barely restrain my excitement and after much patience that I extended till 9 am and couldn’t contain any more of it in my little body, I woke up everyone else. We had planned to go for a swim! Now, I can’t swim even if you put me on gun point or tell me that mother earth was put on stake...I would rather hit the trigger of the gun myself or apologize to mother earth for not being Dharm paaji and save her from kutte kamineys. But that doesn’t mean I can’t wade my way in the soft flowing water...which comes up only till the neck. Now, I also can’t dare to ever get into a swim suit...which is actually a favour for you lesser mortals for I don’t wish to bring about a mass slaughter caused by shock and heart attacks...not because I am drop dead gorgeous in a teeny weenie bit (oh...sigh! sigh!) but because there’s a limit to how much flesh even the male ogling eyes can take!

So all dressed as we were, the two of us heavy duty females along with the men in question, who stripped to their bare essentials...ahem, ahem...we jumped into the pool...Na, na...all the water didn’t come out thereafter...it just flirted around us gently touching the right curves and playfully wetting us to the core....PLEASE...no puns intended!
So after throwing my arms and legs around in mad abandon...in about an hour we decided to spare the firangs of watching the torture of bloody Indians dirtying the pool with our lack of swimsuit sense and our dirty minds...we got out! But what fun it had been!

We also visited the famous Betwa River that flowed past big boulder of rocks and some literally “shitty” stuff of human and animal discard. Not such a great way to spend time by distressing the nostrils and tormenting the eyes...we rushed back to the retreat soon enough. I also gifted my dear beloved a Kairali massage, hoping I’d be returned the favour...in any kind what so ever...but I got a peck on the cheek and an agonising recital of how good it was! Since it was a male masseur, I didn’t really insist on his allowing me to experience the performance first hand...unke khushi mein he mere khushi hain soch kar shaant ho gaye yeh Bharatiye naari!

So like this the two days whisked past. With about 70 photographs and a bundleful of happy memories and great one-liners through the journey...we finally returned to home sweet home. It was a balm that healed my wounds...but as I write this I feel my body twitch again...some muscles seem to be vibrating unceasingly and some nerves crumbling....OH MY GOD...the balm seems to have been evaporated...it’s that same ache...the ache to go on a holiday again!

Happy Birthday to ME!

Happy birthday to me...happy birthday to me...happy birthday dear Suruchi...haaaaaaaappy birthdaaaaaaaaay tooooooooooo meeeeeeeeeeeeeee.....
Add a nice long pull on the last note of “meeeeeeeeee”:)
I may not be a great singer but singing the birthday ballad is my speciality...You could have spotted me in my toddler years as the girl sticking right next to the birthday baby, guarding the territory around the cake ferociously...yapping away the birthday song with all the excitement in her little body (ok, not so little then...alrite, not so little even now...ab khush...mil gaye shaanti?) and eyeing the sumptuous chocolate cake all the while...being cautious of the proximity to be able to be the first one to gulp down a humungous piece of cake, after it has been ceremoniously sliced with the knife...and hence the expertise! Birthdays have been BIG for me...whether my own or those of special people around me...days to celebrate who you are and what you have achieved in terms of relations in life!

Yup, yup, yup....
Yesterday on 28th of September 2009 people, I celebrated 32 years of my existence on mother earth...Wow...How lucky can dear earth get!
32 years old and still feeling 22 and so proud of it (I stopped growing mentally after the age of 22...I was hoping that the ‘physically’ bit would also follow suit...but never mind!)
It’s like heralding into a new era...
Good bye giggly n nervous teens...
Good bye the indecisive twenties...
And say hellooooooooo to the sexy, thundering, throbbing n thrilling thirties!
Time to put my best foot forward...even if I have just two mediocre ones...I would dare to find the best one soon...I promise!

This birthday was a landmark of sorts...I anyways love birthdays...wish I could be born n dead and be reborn every month to be able to celebrate this day...
On second thoughts...not such a great wish...because before I could get out of those diapers into a sexy new outfit or chuck away the nipples of milk bottles to sip on a tequila shot...I’d be dead again! Boo hoo...Ok Almighty ji, can I have a birthday just like that on a more regular basis, without having to go through the grind of worries about wrinkles, throwing lavish parties and other unearthly horrors that are still at bay?

Anyways...mein kahan the?
Haan yaar...birthday mera...kya aap log itne bakr, bakr karte ho ke mein ulajh kar bhool he jaate hoon ke mein kahan the!

So this birthday I have been flooded with wishes, hugs, chocolates, flowers, kisses....and please note that gifts and cash are conspicuously missing from the list....but never mind...there’s always next year and my favourite dictum in life... “To err is human, to make up for it-divine”
So next year people...get a little more divine-ish n less devilish!

The birthday began with a normal dinner the previous night turning into an eve of sorts! Aha...so there used to erstwhile be just Christmas eve, New year’s eve, Holi eve, Diwali eve...never mind the last two hypothetical ones...This one coming now is a far cry from any presumptious banter...The latest on the block is.... “Suruchi birthday eve” (they are planning to make it official from next year and madam Mayawati in apna Uttar Pradesh just might oblige after I agree to give her a makeover with all my magnanimity and tolerance prowess;) Move over Gandhi Jayanti...coz here’s Suruchi Jayanti...but dry day nahi rahega yaar...well, we’ll call it the wettest day of the year...
Come and get drenched in my praise...hehe...uff zyaada ho gaya...I better stop my imagination horse...durrap...durrap...halt!

But then I have proof yaar that I am actually lovable....
My face book wall page shall bear testament to my popularity meter...This year my wall has been adorned with 81 birthday wishes (ji haan, meine sahi mein count kiya sab ke sab...and still more in counting) and with 2/3rds of them being longer than mere sad looking “Happy Birthday’s”.
I hate the sookhe sookhe happy birthday thrown at people on their special days...if you can’t say anything long, flattering and nice...at least add a hug or a mwaah...lage to kuch mila hain...and zor se lage...not just bounced and lost.

Anyways and that’s not all...there were 16 ahem, ahem...private messages in the inbox...I got two guys to sing for me and another two to write poetry in my praise...I got some other ‘lost planet kinda souls’ extracted from their cocoons to pop out n wish me....I have 54 messages (ya, ya that’s on record too) on my mobile and I was non-stop on the phone since morning...getting together local, inter-state, national and international callers...some symbol of global unification this is!

Gawsh...Am I bloody popular or what?
Is there no other soul occupying the walks of life?
What a pressurizing existence this is...to be so loved by all!
Hehe...just kidding...but then I feel bloated today and I thought I must whoosh out some of it here...before I burst...

Big, big thank you to everyone who conspired to make me feel like god’s gift to birthdays...;)
And big, big reminders to those who forgot to add to this band wagon...Baby, there’s always a next time and pehle galti to bhagwan bhi maaf kar dete hain...mein to bas ek nacheez se insaan hoon!
Big, big hugs to all those who joined in my circle of life...coz that’s what the circle of friends means to me!
I had been smiling through the day yesterday and dismal today for another 364 days more to go before mere janam divas arrives again when I’d be the queen of the world...my world...yet again for just another day!

Hot Pants!!!!!!!!!!

Ok...another page from the escapades of my walk...or rather let’s just say something ‘Jo dimaag ke batti jala de’!

I was walking along the lonely and dreary road, chatting up a friend on the cell to make me oblivious of my moving lone footsteps, when something hot and happening passed me by, that made me say, “Boy oh boy!” Yup, a boy he was for sure, though not so blasphemously young...wearing a scarlet red and white jersey with really short sleeves and really, really hot and short and oh-so-red hot pants...I mean the ones that barely cover the bottom...rising enticingly high on the sexily tanned bare long legs and ending at just the lower round curve...there’s a bloody good reason why they call these things ‘hot’ pants!

And phew! Suddenly the heat became unbearably hot!
To top that I could conspicuously eye the trickling lines of sweat flowing through the bulging biceps and oh could the sight make you thirsty or what!
Lemme look for more adjectives....sultry, scorching, sizzling, searing, and sweltering hot was the rear view...
And if someone like me says it...because it takes a lot to get my eyebrows raised...you better take my word for it ladies...that the butt was quite a view! Like they say- but‘t’ naturally! ;)

Unfortunately or fortunately (for I somehow feel the book was only alluring by its back cover...despite the bulging pages of the rippling muscles-shuscles), the guy was on a jog...probably a hostel-r and moved past fleetingly and against my better instincts I decided not to gallop along to catch a glimpse of the face....The ogling for now had done enough for the adrenalin rush and I better not gaze any more, all moon eyed and so...before the hostel gentry turn into their holes and declare it unsafe for their modesties to trot on the streets!

The incident made me wonder how far we really judge a book by its cover. Well, whether we’d like to admit or not, we actually do! Though what makes a woman turn and return to give you more than just another look, has little to do with blazing curves and more so with the intense package deal. Your hot quotient may make our heads turn...but minus the cute or suave elements and the good moves suddenly become cheesy. You may sweep us off our feet but then you need balls again to make us rise up to you....no puns intended! We love to ogle and a bottom like that might get us tempted enough to give you a pinch or mischievous spank (only in our minds)! But then for ogle, don’t we have the Google...Give us something sharper and snappier, if you want to see us happier...and if you were born with a cute butt like that...you know, round and shapely and just about synchronised in the curves....aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhh...you were born to rule dude!

Let’s just dedicate this to those barely 3 inches long or should we say short/skimpy hot pants...hmm, makes me wonder of the blissful predicament if the rain gods would have sided with me this once and we’d have an encore of the flick ‘Ram Tere Ganga Maile’ with clothes sticking to make second skin....oooooooo...gimme a moment dear readers, coz the memory reminds me that I must take that cold shower and return “back” to give you more later!
Ciao!

Hugging was invented for a Bloody good reason!

I read this somewhere:
“They say Disney land is the happiest place on earth...obviously they’ve not been in my arms!”
So rightly said...also like it was said for Kashmir by some wise guy...
“Agar dharti pe kahin jannat hain...to woh yahin hain, yahin hain, yahin hain...”
This guy too would have forgotten to remember the significance of the eternal embrace...sigh, sigh!

I think I was made for hugging and being hugged!
It’s my cherished pass time...
My favourite hobby...
My ideal state to be in...
It’s the inevitable cure-all, priceless be –all and ultimate end-all!

The need for hug would have to be timeless too...
Picture this...the stone age man returning home after a tiring day of hunting down the flora and fauna and meets his partner at the threshold of the cave...She welcomes with a smile but he needs more than that...the comforting feel of skin against his own...especially considering that they didn’t wear clothes then (...that should make some things stand...I meant the goose bumps). And their hands would clasp at the backs and heads rest on the shoulders and feeling the feel-good factor being transferred from one end of a human body to another....mmmmmmm! And lo! The hug was discovered or rather invented and passed down as a traditional legacy to the off-springs...a secret more inestimable than any material wealth!

It’s amazing how a simple hug can conquer, transform and transcend...
Feeling blue...antidote=hug
Feeling ecstatic...elucidation=hug
Feeling victorious....rejoinder=hug
Feeling nothing...solution=hug

The simple hug may say that someone’s there, that everything would be alright, that you did well, that it’s great to see you, that you rock big time, that you are my life, that I need you, that i wish these clothes didn’t come in between us and so much more!
It brings about a rush of hormones if done suitably and lingeringly...and bear hugs are known to release the bouncy nuts in the system. So if there has to be a hug, it better be a long, crushing, everlasting one for those like the proverbial kiss in the air and fad-like are such spoilers. A hug must be a full blown jhappi or nothing at all...when you close your eyes and become oblivious to the world... Like Munna Bhai so rightly said...it would and should be a jadoo ke jhappi...reinstating bonds, establishing new ones, culminating feelings and winning over enemies! One hug can do it all!

So gimme, gimme, and gimme more of hugs for without my daily dose of it...I feel my body stiffen, emotions wither, my humour crumble and the muscles twitch...so the withdrawal symptoms are pretty serious and I prefer to stay addicted!
Hugs to all my friends and readers that say...thank you for the warmth you bring in my everydays!

Red-Hot Hair Haywire!

I began writing this with a heavy heart...sob, sob and an imaginary sad wailing tune in the backdrop because they say sound effects help magnify the impact of what you wish to emote. Socha tha kya n kya ho gaya...types song...
A tragedy had transpired, the magnitude of which should be ascertained in the days to come....

Background information dene ke banti hain yaar yahan....
Madam Mandira Bedi is at fault...
How you might ask? Well, she recently adorned a brand new make-over in a reality show on television, with beautiful short red streaked hair on her cute head. And despite me not being a huge fan or belonging to the category of senseless and swooning masses, who ape fads by jumping on the celebrity band wagon...I think, this time I was caught in a weak moment. I have been aching for some change in life and routine from a long while and my dearly beloved has been getting an ache at the idea of taking me on a holiday. So the beckoning red head of Mandira had me completely in its grip, struck by a steadfast awe and also awwwww...And I reached the parlour next day for my date with experimentation and a make-over to club me with the ranks of the fashionistas! Move over plain Jane!

It’s funny how people just go to such places...maybe with pictures of their stars and just declare...“Make me like Aishwarya” or something...Or weird still, imagine guys hitting the gym and saying... “I want a body like John Abrahim”. If it was said to me I would just ROFLMAO. I was wriggling at the idea of doing it myself and somehow kept beating about the bush...I inquired about all the possible shades of red...not able to mouth out what exactly I wanted...Madam Mandira ji, I hope someone’s flattered you so much before so that I don’t do the best sucking-up-to job in town or rather nation in this case!

After an exhaustive and baffling session of rejecting most of the reds...some were too dark, others too tacky...some too copperish or too burgundy...my eyes fell upon the increasingly growing red face of the beautician....Ahem...ok...time for some action before her red should give me the blues...
“Have you seen this Akshay Kumar programme called Fear Factor?” I crooned...trying to hedge my way to the issue.
“What! You want hair like Akshay’s?” she blurted.
“Grrrr....no wonder you are here madam hairstylist coz your sense of understanding is just senseless...I am not confused or planning to confuse the public with my hair gender choices”...I didn’t say that in so many words...I was sitting in a chair before her, with big tufts of my hair in one of her hands and the scissor in another...I better be good to her....or get a handful or mouthful or whatever...no puns intended again!

And finally Mandira madness came out of the bag!
“Oh ya” she said...and I thought...waah, waah an accent...maybe this gal is not a dumb bimbo after all!
And then she told me the words that every man and especially women should beware of when going to the salon....
“Don’t you worry...I have understood exactly what you want and you are now in safe hands.” I was in her hands, alrite!

Phew! I was relieved....How wonderful that at least certain things in this world exist where you are understood without the necessity of expression...Little did I realize that like the mooh maya of our existence...this is also just a make belief! A big fat myth!

A huge black apron was fixed around my neck and loads of water splattered on my head...and my mind was picturing the lady in the garbs of an executioner and me being buttered up for a capital punishment of sorts! “Would all red lines be too stark for me?” I queried thinking of the lines of kiddies who come to me for studying and apprehensive of their shock stricken faces. “Hmm...It would be, I guess”, she said. Wow, and what were you waiting for to tell me that mademoiselle...after my head is done up with the damage? “I’ll give you streaks of blonde in between...it would suit your white complexion”. And like always, compliments make me scatter-brained enough to lose the sense of comprehension and I smiled knowingly. And she knew, “hassi to phassi”!

She took out big dollops of some weirdly sperm like liquid in a not so big bowl...and I instantly pictured the flick ‘There’s something about Mary’...I was hoping this would not be another “hair-raising” experience! And then with her expert fingers she unruffled my tresses, holding me by the back of my neck and I feared if the sperm like liquid in her palm was making her horny! Thankfully the drill ended in two minutes but to my horror I began to feel her pat on my cheeks slowly and suggestively... “Ma’m you have great skin...soft and smooth and radiant”...I was waiting for the catch...there better be before the seduction blows out of proportion. “You must try our new facial...meant for skin like yours”....Phew again! My izzat was safe despite those closed walls...I had passed the pass!

I told her to just concentrate on my hair...on my head....no matter how distracting the rest of my appealing or lack of it body may be!
She began using her pins to uplift little lines adding the blonde and red tinges...I sat there in the glow of a light bulb right over my head which made the red shine a burning crimson. I decided to not panic but wait with baited breath and ordered the butterflies in my stomach to do so too till all those foils on my head were removed and I get the final look...So with a foiled head and hopefully not a foiled look...I watched the hands of the clock tick...and soon it was washy-washy time! My head was laid on the basin as the old me was being rinsed off.

I looked at the mirror instantly being a critical judge as well as ready to console myself in case there’d be a bolt from the blue...in this case red! Hmm...I was unsure...she was sure.... “Mast lag raha hain ma’m...” Hmm...Should I trust her or blast her...I was unsure again and dissecting the length of mutilation....for thin pin lines of bright red and bright blonde looked back at me from the reflection of the mirror. I was now technically half redhead, half blonde head and also half my original brown head...there can’t be three halves, right? So in all and completely...let’s just say a dumb head! She gave me a haircut complimentary and got down to it...haircut that is! Within minutes of hair drying and giving me a shorter flick on the forehead and curly bounce to the ones behind...I was all set with my new look. It was different for sure...and I kind of liked it with a nervous excitement!

Now what was awaited was the world’s verdict...I paid the damages and trotted off from the saloon with a new sense of what I thought to be oomph and airs about me...At the insistence of my net friends, I immediately took some snaps of my new avtaar holding the camera myself and after rejecting 10 not so hot close ups...I uploaded one on face book that passed off as decent enough...And then the wait again...the jury was in council and the accused waiting for doom or bloom...
And...
And...
And...my world came crashing down...a bare minimum twitters of whistle n wink and an obvious roll of shredding me apart...and half an hour later the picture was removed from my profile page. Like always I had not waited for the axe to fall on my feet...I had sauntered my way onto it! I was burning red...not at the right place! I could kick myself for giving in to the spur of the moment...but then just a kick would not suffice for a big ass like me!

My hour of glory became my hour of massacre...my brother leading the march in the laugh riot....Of course brothers are envious specimens but then some of my so-called friends ganged in too in the leg pulling game...till thank god for a dear friend, who finally soothed me into the belief that the picture’s not so good....but I am actually looking hot and happening! What the heck...might as well live with looking like a white sauce laced tomato on a brown plate for a while!

And slowly the curves round the corner of my mouth began to rise up again...Saturday night it was and we hit the disc after months of my wanting to do so. I told me dearly beloved that using the night as a camouflage, perhaps I would just mingle in the crowds and not be so horrendously noticeable...He held my hand proudly and said I looked awesome (alrite, the deep necked top over my jeans should partly share the credit)...and he looked deep in my eyes...that made me believe that I did...And I ventured forth...only to be showered with generous compliments and “wow’s” and gentle touches of my tresses. I did not mingle for a change...I was right there at the centre getting jiggy n giddy with it, in a way I had thought I would. I was basking in praises and enjoying the admiring eyes along with the reassertion that certain risks in life are worth it! Well, all’s well that ends well? It sure is!

The Fear Of the Unknown....

The fear of the unknown…
Has me firmly in its grip
I don’t know what it is
But I know it’s there…
Watching my every move
Perhaps anticipating its own,
Spreading its roots
Branching its hold!
The unknown is pleasant or discordant?
Let’s just say still a mystery
Shrouded in pleasure,
In company of pain
Partly logical, partly insane!

The fear of the unknown…
Makes me take baby steps at a time
Though each is a giant leap for ‘my’ kind!
I falter and resist
I give in and still insist…
It’s a turmoil that’s making me churned
It’s like getting something, I have yearned
But lavished freely and not really earned!
Do I deserve it or does it deserve me?
Should I accept it or just let it be?

The fear of the unknown…
Makes my heart palpitate, my senses titilate
And my philosophies to mutate!
You come within the radar of my aura
And I realize I am the one who is being magnetically pulled instead!
Is there a blindfold on my eyes?
Or have all forces suddenly become dark?
I stop, I call out, I reinstate my premise
I analyse, I dissect, I debate, I surmise!
Not knowing that all the while…my mind was playing games
I thought there was a distance,
Then why the proximity held my breath?
Despite ordering them to stop…my footsteps had been trotting still...
Don’t they receive my signals or have they developed their own free will?

The fear of the unknown…
Is it fear really?
Or is it the unknown indeed?
Perhaps when the pace of my heart quietens…
I’ll hear.
Perhaps when I stop dreaming with waking eyes…
I’ll see.
Perhaps when I shut down my pragmatic world…
I’ll feel.
Perhaps when the dust settles…
I’ll know.

It was MY Day, alrite!

Teacher’s day for a teacher is an acknowledgement and certification of what you have been doing and if you have been doing it right...no puns intended for a change!

This year my students pleaded for a treat and when I could not resist their cute beckoning elongated moans of pleeeeeeeeaseee and equally long faces anymore (that would be precisely for 60 seconds), I gave in and decided to take the senior ones- 10th, 11th and 12thies for a treat to MacDonald’s...Taking the complete whole bunch of 100 was not humanly possible for me or humanly hand-able for the Mcd’s staff and followers....and hence the cut off...that almost broke my heart...but then, sigh! sigh!

Before venturing out though...I handed down to them a verbal list of statutory warnings:
1. Please reach on time...this is not a class that you reach sauntering away to glory, 15 minutes late and always with the same excuse that you car had a flat tyre...What a flattened car that would be!
2. Please come straight to the venue as you leave your abodes and protective arms of your watchful mothers...to say it more bluntly, let me not catch you in a dubious position in the parking lot...
3. Please don’t hold hands or sit with your beloveds...at least there!
4. Please don’t call outsiders...meaning those not in the coaching just so that they catch a glimpse of how drop dead gorgeous you look when not in your usual garbs...after running from one coaching to another!
5. Please go straight home after the party that is scheduled to end in one hour....don’t tell your parents that “ma’m insisted upon our staying there for three hours”!
6. Please don’t make passes at me...you are anyways getting the fringe benefits...the treat that is!

I know my kids and hence the decree...
And also I knew had these been written on a sheet...they would have made paper aeroplanes of it or roses and offered them to me only!
And also since I know them...I was pretty sure, they most definitely would break at least 4 of these rules...
And like I know and pride myself in...I was right again!

The scheduled time was 7 p.m. and when I reached about 15 minutes early...just four of them awaited...I was expecting at least 40...but then there was still time...I was a bit apprehensive too...wondering if I’d be able to handle so many of them in their first official outing with me!

By 7.20ish they began to filter in...
Today the tresses were let loose...there was a dash of mascara and a line of kaajal caressing the eyes...some were reeking with perfume...others with pin straight standing hair as though gelled and stretched beyond human capacity (reminded my subconsciously of a flick called American Pie...but thankfully I put those thoughts to rest...)
Swanky clothes...ritzy accessories...chic style and loads of street smart attitude...it was a party alrite!
Such a fresh change to see them this way...blooming buds on the threshold of alluring youth...And also a change for them because for the first time their ma’m was not in a salwaar suit but in jeans and a kurti...Alrite, I made some attempts to look cool to gel in as inconspicuously as possible!
So after a big round of us complimenting each other...and forming a mutual admiration society of sorts...they just pulled and placed their chairs all around me and the gossip sessions began...rather they began pulling each other’s legs and thank god like is my habit...I did not indulge in here for once!

I was told who was going around with whom...and when I remarked that oh but I thought ‘she’ was going around with ‘him’...
Oh no ma’m...that was last week...they’ve broken up and she’s single again and he’s now hooked with ‘her’...
Ooooooooooohhh! I gasped for a bit of air...breaking news sections in the newspapers...take a bow here!
Two of these ‘couple’ kids I had passed them on my way up to the restaurant...I enquired about them...I was told they are coming...no puns intended again...Well, they kept coming only...for the evening ended and I didn’t see them come at all!

I also learnt of the new patio-ing tricks circling around these kids as the current fad...sit next to the target and flirt blatantly...no scope or hope for subtleties here....
Then some burgers, fries and cokes followed as they teased me to teach them there and I teased them to sing a song...
They did...
Not crooning any Himesh Reshamiyya number...
But singing ‘happy teachers day’ at the top of their voices, as a big fat chocolate cake entered the domain and I cut through it gently with a heart full of pride about to burst with an unknown delight...

They created such uproar that everyone else at Mcd’s turned around to see what was happening...
Never since the day of my wedding had I turned so many heads all at once...and never since that day only had I eaten so much meetha...
(Remember the laddoos stuffed into your mouth just before you are tying the knot and each person under that connubial tent...from the
closest kins to the distant-est of acquaintances bloody insist on putting the laddoo in your mouth before handing over the shagun...and you realize that to earn you have to burn...you here implying the tummy)
Well, aisa he kuch yahan bhi hua...
Then almost each one of them put chunks of that dripping sumptuous chocolatey sin in my mouth...and for the first time in my life I heard myself blurt... “Bas, ab aur chocolate nahi!”

I pinched myself to believe it was really happening for anything brown and melty gets me big time...Waise, abhi I officially have a year’s supply of chocolates that came in gifts...So if you want to be friendly with me...now is the time!

And like this the awesome evening came to an end...
I told them to pack up now...as we hugged and said goodbyes...as though never to meet again...I returned home with a car full of gifts, flowers and cards...and an incomparable high that glowed for the next 24 hours on my face....
The feeling of getting 100% satisfaction from something in life...well, call it my occupational perks, I guess for I still have to know the occupational hazards and know that I shall never know them!

My Teaching Journey!

Everybody needs something in life to pursue to keep up and rocking his levels of sanity...
For me this has been teaching!
The catharsis...
The nirvana...
The journey and the destination...

It’s been some good old 13 years since I started...
I was in Class 12th I remember...just freshly passed from school...hmm...in the year of 1996 and a month later I got a call from the Principal’s office that our teacher who took up Political Science for classes 11th and 12th had fallen seriously ill and they couldn’t find a substitute. And since I had scored 96% in the subject in the boards, she felt I was suitable enough to do that job. What an incomparable high! For a couple of days I think, I must have made cloud 9 my heavenly abode...

So there I was rubbing shoulders with all my teachers in the staff room as peers...just about a month later from passing out of my convent as a student. I was getting the first hand experience of all the gossip which we always wondered about as to what went on in the staff room’s closely guarded walls and needless to say I was enjoying it. I had shifted gears and the ride was taking new dimensions. The students I was teaching were all my buddies for I had a great rapport with my juniors, having spent hours cracking all the non-veg jokes or giving agony-aunt types advice (yup, I am doing it since then) on their blooming love lives. Yet I had managed to catch their attention this time as an educationist. They were ready to take me seriously when I was teaching and just as I would leave their classroom door and thereby my teacher garbs to step on to the corridor...I would get a dose of the latest gossip and scandals doing the round.

After two months of teaching Political Science, our Economics teacher left school suddenly and so I took up her shoes for another three months. I knew it then that this was my true calling. To be able to connect with a listener in such a way that he doesn’t only give you his rapt attention, but understands the import of what you are saying and most significantly what you have said made a difference to his perception, comprehension and intellect...I thought and still think that there’s nothing better than that!

Soon private coaching lessons followed up as the good word spread within my school of how proficient I was at bringing home the subject...please remind me when I am going overboard with self-praise...I wouldn’t stop...I’d just rephrase it to make it look more natural! By god’s grace everyone thought I was anyways awesome- being the Head Girl, Chief Editor of my school magazine, School’s Chief Spokesperson and the pet of all teachers, students, servants alike. So I think many students came knocking at my door just because they were in something of an awe of me as the Head Girl irrespective of my skills! As pompous as it sounds, for some it was just getting the whiff of being around me...mostly girls at that time, so those imaginative horses might take a rest. Again at the risk of sounding highly pretentious here...let me please declare...What a superstar-ish feeling it was!

From a handful to a couple of dozen senior girls and boys and soon the strength augmented to about fifty children that I was taking up during the course of the week...My hands were busy all day either in correcting notebooks or in collecting the money that was being showered from all corners. For an eighteen something...so much dough in hand could have been a head spinning experience! And I also indulged...not just on me but on people all around me...I gifted my mum a microwave...most of my brother’s wardrobe was sponsored by me...I spent on my friends buying them gifts they secretly cherished...and of course gave in to my own fetishes when I went down the market aisles...and of course did my share of hoarding too. In my own way I was realizing the luxury of splurging as well as the value of hard earned cash and though extravagant, yet i was selective in my spending abilities to get the full penny’s worth.

I got bigger batches, got attached to coaching centres and developed a sweet little fan following of sorts. All day I basked in the glory of being surrounded by books and happy, peppy faces who thought coming to me was more fun than studies could rarely be! I would blush and smile in admiration of students who would unabashedly declare that I was their favourite teacher and some would just look at my face while I read instead of reading the text book...more so to get me peeved than anything else!

And this journey continues....
I got married...switched to a new locality but managed to pursue my passion and to continue carving my niche...
Most students even after passing out from my hands remain in touch as they move out into the world...and the satisfaction of seeing them mould beautifully is akin to what a parent may feel for them...
May be momentary for me...but it brings me inexplicable pleasure and I say my little silent prayer to the almighty for being so kind to me. As of now...during peak time, the strength of my students touches a 100 sometimes...and I am glad that I end up managing them all as well as continue to trot on in the web of life surrounding me otherwise...
If asked whether I would have it any different....
NEVER....
Not for a million other temptations!

What Am I Really?

What am I really?
Maybe I am kind of like water…simple in all terms, see-through, omni-present...it has been the destiny of millions through history, who knows what’s our destiny now...necessary for your sustenance, though requiring not much effort or thought except the realization that you can’t “live” without it...you drink me and I take your shape…you can have me but you can’t hold me…you can see yourself inside of me...however much you may have, it is never enough...
Bas just don’t feel that I bloat you too much once the thirst is quenched…be or pretend to be the parched Sahara, ever wanting more!

Maybe I am an open book…easy to flip through, interesting if you get to read and understand in between the lines…will be by your side in your lonely moments, giving company and a sense of belonging…an enigma beyond the fallacious cover...addictive as you read on...trenchant beyond the language...a fantasy beyond the harsh reality...familial and a memory...of a lifetime, for a lifetime...
But just don’t flip away and move on…read and empathize…just don’t judge me by the cover…peer within meaningfully to completely comprehend…and let me not just be kept there on the shelf gathering dust, once you’ve understood it all...I’ll try to be a new chapter to you everyday...try to be unputdownable!

Maybe I am the flowing river...once I start to tumble there’s no stopping me…sometimes I become rapid and convulsive, or deep and dark and at other times passive and placid…yet I am moving constantly with you…altering my pace, crossing over or ignoring the stumbling blocks and rocks that come in between…provenance of life- in deed and action...You can choose to stand on the shore and I’ll quietly grace your feet with my thoughts, keeping you cool even in the hottest of times...
Bas just don’t wash your soiled feet in me and walk away…don’t be frightened when my waves rise high or apprehensive when the furrows fall free…just dive in, cut throw with the force of your arms and keep flowing with me, within me…someday we might merge in the destination that we head to...

Maybe I am like that first dress...you yearn to fit into, however grown you may be...it holds a special brightness...even though it’s lost its colour...it feels like new...even though there’s a bit of a patch somewhere, you show it off to everybody, even though they don’t understand why...because precious it remains as a reminder of the special times when life revolved around it.
So hold me close even when I can’t cover your contours...I need to be snuggled and need you to feel and tell me that I am soft still.

I sometimes feel I could also be that flower in the flower pot...waiting for you to see me, admire my beauty and smell my perfection... I would bring in my colours and make your life fragrant...
Only just don’t get rid of me once I start withering away...I won’t complain...but if you choose, you can keep me within the pages of your personal book, so that I get eternal life with you and remain always there..

Maybe I am a kind of a rubber band- you can pull me and stretch me to suit your purpose…you can twist me and carry me along, but just don’t throw me off when the purpose is done and expect me to be back in the same shape again!

Let me be the shadow...always around, by your side...not expecting to be a part of you...the shadow shall have its own entity and the owner shall have his own...when it’s hot and bright, I shall walk along and when it’s comforting moonlight I’ll hide away...always there but only making my presence felt when you need it...

Let me be the mountain...you can come to me when you seek solitude, sit with me and talk loud your thoughts and I can assure no one else would hear them...if you are crying, I’ll absorb all your tears that fall...bask in my strength and when the sun sets and you are about to leave...I’ll give you the undisturbed view of the plain truth that we are merely specks in the world...not to humiliate you but to make you humble...and when you finally leave...I’ll be waiting for you to return!

Whatever I am…
I don’t know it myself…
I hope you do and value it too…
When you walk through life…keep me close…close enough to let me know what’s happening on the way...yet not so close that I begin to suffocate you…
Let’s give each other space and yet be in the environment…
I hope I don’t seem easy to you…but just easy to be with…
I hope I don’t disturb the chords of your peace, but add to the ‘harmony’ that seems to be just another word for you…
I hope whatever I am…I am not just “whatever” to you!

(Thanks to a dear friend for editing and adding some parts to this!)

The Ultimate Seductress or The Ultimate Bitch!

Well, what began as a normal day at the gym, soon became the record breaking hottest day for the gym-vaasis. A smouldering new entrant in her itsy bitsy track suit made a majestic appearance and suddenly the treadmill scuttling at the speed of 10.5 was not fast enough to match with the near exploding pace of the heartbeats of the ‘man’kind present there. “Who issssssss that girl?” was the question that boggled most of the male and female kinds within 10 meters of the diameter for even though most of us adorned our sexiest sport gears or so we thought for using that unisex time slot, we appeared shabby before that Greek goddess of sorts. A couple of the not-so- fair-in-the fairer sex were eyeing the damsel up and down so intently that I almost wondered about their sexual preferences. And another couple of them who were the hitherto reigning uncrowned gym queens were burning with envy or was that rage and their expressions indicated that if you’d touch them you might be electrocuted.

Okay, after such a build up, obviously you want to know about the girl-small of frame but big of assets and as we all concur-size does matter. Chalo, this should get our male readers to read on. She must be 5.5” and in early twenty something, dressed in lycra leotards that fitted so snugly at the right contours, that they seemed like second skin for her. The art of dressing is also really an art, the real skill comprises of revealing what you are showing to be hiding er, did you get that? Well, I didn’t-I am adding it because it sounds quite profound!

So, while all of us pragmatic females tied up our hair in a make-do bunch at the top of our heads to escape the heat, Madam, left her tresses wantonly open, the soft curls seductively covering the better part of her back till her well-endowed bottom. It reminded me of some fierce Maenad from Greek mythology who was so drunk in her devotion to her Lord Bacchus that she cared not how the locks of her hair alluring fell over her gleaming skin. Ah! But the lady in question was not so naive. She fully knew the effect she was having and “performed” more intently to ensure she got a “standing” ovation from those who personify the ‘I-am-only-human waala excuse’. Right from the gym members to the trainers and the cleaners-sab ki band bajee hue the ya nikal pade the, it was difficult to fathom. You know that gaping mouth expression where you can’t make up your mind if the person is happy, shocked or devastated?

Oh, did I use the word ‘covering’ somewhere above? Tch, tch, how silly of me! Well, she didn’t believe in that for every now and then she would casually put all her hair on one shoulder to make sure everyone caught a glimpse of her bare nape and the deep neck of her t-shirt from behind. What a lesson it was that day for us and I don’t mean here the lessons given in the aerobic moves!

I could feel everything moving in slow motion like in Hindi movies, when the guy and the girl are running towards each other with effortful rising of hands and legs, heads moving from side to side as the body goes slowly up and down with background score of ‘la la la la’ to match. Same was the case in this turf-those raising the dumbbells forgot that they had to bring the hand down also and the one on the cycle was paddling with such soft motions as though he was taking a nap between each rotation of the wheel. The cleaner boy kept cleaning the same spot of the mirror for what seemed like eternity and I thought the poor looking glass was going to fade away with the sweeps that day.

This was awesome for me. I suddenly lost count of the crunches I was doing as I joined the jing bang in eyeing her. And before you doubt MY tendencies-phuleeeeeezeee, I was doing it for you guys to be able to reproduce this here later to tickle your funny bones too. I have always been inclined towards constructive learning and this was an educative experience of how conniving and artificial a drop dead gorgeous stunner could be! A lesson learnt in addition-Men also go dumb when they are blinded by the sight of sex-in-a-jumpsuit.

While at 7 am like in the bloody good early morning, while most of the lesser mortals could barely wash their face or brush their teeth to smell tolerable before finding themselves being ground on the treadmill, our little Miss Minx had kaajal smeared eyes that could put Aishwarya Rai to shame and smelt of something no lesser than Channel No. 5 to rightly reinstate the effect.

I observed her game as I watched her moves. She took her place right at the centre of the hall from where she would be visible to all and sundry. She made sure she eyed herself sexily and completely in the mirrors all around. As she would bend down her knees, she would deliberately protrude her bums out, jutting out dangerously almost like the backlights of a truck-making some guys horny and some guys sweat, although they hadn’t even begun the work out yet. Then she slowly moved her hands up her sides suggestively and placed them on her teeny weenie waist. When she touched her toes, she made sure that she stayed in that position for a tad extra seconds, till her rear side had done sufficient damage to the environment.

And then came beads of sweat trickling down her own tiny frame and she picked up a hand towel. While we normally press the napkin in rough side to side motions to hasten the process, madam gently dabbed and pressed and rubbed it on her cheeks, taking it slowly down her nape, neck and upper chest. As her bosom heaved, the action had an equal and opposite reaction from the rippling chest muscles of the six-pack superior sex, watching the performance “Live”.

Then madam got on to the tread mill and make no mistake, it was a catwalk that could give the top models their run for the money. And then lo, behold a frown on that sculpted face! What on earth could have caused it despite the obvious swoon all over? And she blurted out huskily to the boy instructor, “Raaayjuuuu....” Well for all of us normal humans, we’d call out this simple common place name ‘Raju’ and for the Punjabi mundas there, it is just ‘oye Raaaju’. But madam had to stretch and prolong and heavily accent the name, so much that Raaayjuuu, appeared in a jiffy before his highness, like a domesticated puppy minus the tongue lolling out or was it really?

Madam had a problem with the music-so changed it was! Had she had a problem with the arrangement of the equipments, I am sure the guys would have not hesitated to pick up one each and come to rescue the damsel in distress.

So ten minutes passed away like this, when madam got down from the treadmill, bending her head down and brushing through her hair with skilful fingers, apparently to let some air in. Phew! I had had enough too. I needed to breathe in some air myself. The adaayein of the ultimate seductress were being dissected by the women folk as the tacky ways of the ultimate bitch. Whatever, she was much like the sizzler platter, hot and fresh out of the oven- you might not be able to have it but you can’t escape the steam it generated!

As for me, I couldn’t help wonder at how ridiculous that was and what motives could possibly provoke such deliberate nonsense. Also I shuddered to think that this ‘drill’ would be in encore mode from that day on and desperately hoped that the men and women there might gradually become immune to the disaster that had struck. Thank god for wishful thinking! ;)