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April 30, 2007

A divorced, debauched woman

"Hello Mamma...I might have met someone."
"Might have? You have or you have not?"
"I dont know...we are scoping..."
"Has he been married before?" asked my mother over the phone.
"No Ma, he is..."
"Does he have kids?"
"Kids?! I just told you he has never been married...!"
"So what? Why is he interested in you?"
"Because I happen to be..."
"But will he accept you?" continued my mother relentlessly, having mastered the art of interrupting me mid-sentence and mid-thought since the time I have been 13.
"Accept me? Ma, we are just scoping things out. And accept me? I don't understand..."
"At least learn to be practical now. If he has never been married before, does not have kids and is a single, eligible man according to you - why will he accept you? After all, you are just a separated woman now."

'Just a separated woman'. And I thought that virginity was the only criteria a woman had to worry about. Apparently not, according to my mother (and where there's one mother, there're more!) Now it seems, that given my non-virgin and 'just a separated woman' status, my market value in the marriage bazaar has gone down. Damn. But on second thoughts, why? If Aamir Khan can get a (presumably) non-virgin, but never-married-before Kiran Rao, why can't I get a mate — single, unmarried and preferably a non-virgin? Further according to my mother (shrug, mom is always right), the only man "kind enough" to marry me will be one who has been married before (or has kids, whichever comes first).

That apart, seems like even dating rules change once you are single again. Suddenly you are seen as a woman who's looking for stability. Who isn't? But if you are separated/divorced/single again, you are ONLY looking to get married again. You are also supposed to settle for whatever or whoever comes your way. You are also supposed to put longer hours at work because you don't have a "husband to go back to". Or are supposed to have more money to spend because, "it's just you, right?" Or not flirt, date or meet different men because "separated women are easily labelled debauch, so be careful."

And what about separated/divorced/single again women getting on with life and finding some happiness? My mother ponders the question while I listen to the static over STD and finally sighs.
"You have a point there," she says, "Everyone deserves happiness with a partner by their side..."
I was already delirious, my mother was agreeing to something I believed in!
"Oh Ma, there is hope! All is not lost, I will get back, I will be happy, I..."
"But who will accept you?"

Thinking younger men....

It's amazing how women can find almost any reason for self-pity. Or maybe it's women like me. Maybe it's just me (alarmed).

Spent all of Sunday SP-ing (self-pitying) about no electricity, the ugly, big blue bruise on my right thigh, having to cook for myself and the fact that each time my heart breaks, someone else seems to be happily walking into the sunset, hand in hand with someone else and I am left to bloody click pictures. And there I am left, pitying myself for either being too fat, too loud, too opinionated, too moody, too brash, having different interests, not having long legs, more hair falling, drinking less water, etc etc. Now I have even managed to pity myself for losing 27 kgs. Why did I lose so much weight — what if my boobs sag? A lot of us women cannot be happy till the time we don't have something to pity ourselves for.

When I dated an older man I pitied myself because inadvertently they wouldnt want to shimmy to Hips dont lie or whichever was the most popular number. When dating somewhat-younger men, the pity would be that they dont appreciate Leonard Cohen enough (or dont know of him!). Now I want to date rather-young men, who look real dishes and don't talk too much. I'll know more than them and they'd have enough energy to keep me interested for long(er). Mental connect I shall save for other people.

Yup, that makes me feel much better...except ..What's the age of consent? From what I remember, the debate about what's-the-right-age-for-a-lot-of-things was still left unresolved at 18 or 25. Hmm. Cool, will date those in between.

The truth about frilly underwear

I really want to know--- how many of you go about buying frilly, lacy, sexy underwear? The kind thats supposed to make you look like a nymph or a sexy siren or oomphs middle name or the seductress who cant be refused and for those who want it, virginal too? How many of you have looked at magazine pictures of women in such T.I.N.Y. panties/thongs/whats-that-lil-triangle-there that you have squirmed.
I have and the thought usually is: "Shit. If getting into a pair of slim-fits wasn't enough, now I have to fit into wisps as well." I do it each time. After years of being 'healthy' and 'rolly polly' and 'chubby' (cute too, ugh), I finally managed to get into lacy boy-shorts without the waist band or the thigh-band curling up... Or cellulite peeking out from somewhere. Even got a semi-bikini wax done to be able to wear the high-cut chads without looking like a bikini under bushy camouflage.

And then I flick through a Vogue and there are these absolutely blissful, adorable little red panties with two little bows to hold it in place! Absolutely SWEET! If that weren't enough, the undy was only supposed to cover enough, showin off you bum crack and at least four inches under the navel. I loved it. And found a similar one at Sarojini Nagar. I love it. One its darned cute. Two, it makes me feel rather, well liberated. And it was recently christened the 'slutty panty'. :( And i didnt even think of sex when buying it. And thats the sad truth. No matter how many frilly, lacy, absolutely delightful, pretty, tiny pieces of undergarments I buy --- they also dont look ugly when laid out for drying --- it will always be thought you buy your stuff to impress someone else. : 10 ways to have a fab weekend...wear lacy undy for him, pack a bra in his tiffin... Sigh. How about buying sexy undy because it looks sexy, feels sexy and you like the way your butt looks in it
PS: Red Bowie is not a slutty underwear, and it is normal to name your underwear too.

Wondering about True Love in disguise....

Some of us are lucky to find the love of our lives. Then there are those who spend their entire lives in the mistaken belief that they are with the love of their lives. They are lucky too; or at least luckier than the souls who wander around either searching for TL (True Love) or repeatedly looking for it in the wrong places or from the wrong people. False belief is far better than losing the belief. Perhaps…

What makes a person fall in love with the 'wrong' people, again and again? Or rather not so much wrong as not right for them? The situations where on the face of it everything seems perfect and yet there is that often overrated, mysterious 'something' missing. Despite having an idea of who or what we want to love, we still end up investing our emotions, effort and time in places where the quest for love will only disappoint us. Or is it because we 'have' a clear idea that we fall for the Mr/Miss Not-That-Right?

You are so certain that your TL is supposed to be an adventurer that when you meet the horticulturist who might be just right for you, you fail to recognize or even give him/her the benefit of doubt because who ever heard of aloe vera being as adventurous as base jumping? Or over the years, the idea of what your ideal relationship will/should be is so fixated that accommodating a different view, a different way and a different picture often becomes an existential issue. When you meet something/someone different that could perhaps be equally good for you, your system goes into denial. How could this be? My TL is supposed to be roses and wine… it didn't talk about McDonald's burgers and video games!
Then of course there is Richard Bach and the likes of him who further promote intolerance-towards-the-wrong-one by propounding the Theories of Soul Mate.
Your soul mate will be your mirror image. What if that image is a little skewed?
Your soul mate will know things about you instinctively. What if that instinct needs a little awakening?
Your soul mate will love/hate the same things. What if he loves one of the things you hate?Maybe your TL is in disguise or let's say has not washed his/her face so you cant see them clearly yet... Maybe The things you want, wish and seek ARE there in them, just need a little scraping-off-the-surface before you can spot them. Is it worth walking away from something that can be, but might take a little time, just because you cant see all the merits initially... It is scary for sure.
Each time we invest in the wrong person, we are so scared to ever try again that even though there might be merit in a relationship, we are afraid of waiting it out. We are scared that we could be wrong all over again and we dont even wait to find out. It becomes a question of emotional survival.
"I dont want to get hurt therefore I will not try". That has been my motto for sometime and though I reconsider it from time to time, the fear keeps me happily single. Happily? Do love and survival have to be mutually exclusive? Why can't we love and wait to see if the slightly-wrong-for-me person does turn out to be the TL...? Can I do that?

Your relationship is over when...

Yeah, this is a way old post...almost two years old...but what the heck, makes sense and am not feeling very original right now. At least I am plagiarising myself. :D

Why do relationships - be it a marriage, a two week affair or an association of years - break up? It would be so easy to say it must be the man's fault and indulge in some good-for-ego male bashing. However, both men and women have dumped, walked out and given up on their relationships. Not because the guy was a wife/partner beater or because the woman was a haridan. It's the small things. However, before the small things become big issues and your relationship blows in your face -- here are the signs you (both he and she) need to watch out for. See them, recognise them and get out of the situation before you are at the receiving end.
Believe me, it's far better to be the dumper than the dumpee — 10 signs that say your relationship is OVER (tried, tested, been there, done them!):

1. He: Comes back home at 3 am every night (morning?) and says it's because his computer crashed. Every time.
She: Refuses a ride back with you because she doesn't know how late she'd be. Of course, "some colleague" will drop her back.

2. He: Doesn't tell you where his money is going; but there's never anything left. Worse still is when you don't even know his salary break up!
She: Discusses her taxation troubles with that guy at work/ friend's brother/ someone else instead of you... and you happen to be a CA.

3. He: Talks most about a woman and strangely, she is ALWAYS a 'bloody bitch'.
She: Talks about a man and strangely, he is ALWAYS either gay or has a girlfriend. And if the so-called good friend at work also has a convenient fiance, you have two days to move out.

4. He: Wants to avoid a party till the time you are going. Once you decline, he suddenly remembers an old obligation and has to go. Without you.
She: Decks up for this "really boring but imperative" office do. Of course the backless is because she has to be a professional even when she doesn't like it.

5. He: Refuses to take you for official functions due to 'new management rules'. The new female colleague in office however, has to accompany him everywhere. Even movie shows.
She: Debuts on stage or wins an award and you read about it in the papers. It's worse if she forgot to invite you or forgot you in her 'thanks to these people' list.

6. He: Tells you to take notes after his mother has rearranged your drawing room, bedroom and underwear basket as well.
She: Tells you to take notes from the 'Kamasutra For Beginners' that she gifts you on your birthday.

7. He: Thinks that whatever you do for him is because he 'allows' it or because it's his will.
She: Refuses to do anything for you because she says she's developing a Superwoman complex.

8. He: Eyes women passing-by, looks at you and says, "So what if you have a jelly belly? I like my li'l piglet!". And says it in public.
She: Is anti-men waxing and yet looks at you and says, "So what if you are very hairy? I have a thing for furry creatures."

9. He: Insists you get inspired by porn while doing it, then stops midway to discuss how his 'favourite' Rebecca Lord should have been an A-grade Hollywood actress.
She: Starts laughing while looking at the porn and thinks you look like Ron Jeremy. From the waist up.

10. He: Suggests you go to a shrink when you say points 1-9 are the reasons the two of you aren't working out. If he calls them 'trivial', you should've dumped him long back.
She: Looks relieved and smiles when you say points 1-9 are reasons the two of you aren't working out and then says, "Finally! It took you nine points to realise?!"

Post Script: If you are reading this, you two sure need to have The Talk. If you got this as a forward from a pal and you are a woman, your friends are right. If you are a male and you got this as a forward (from her) — she is telling you something buddy!

April 26, 2007

Wanting, wanting, bad, bad!

In another 9 dyas... some more choices, irrevocably made in a matter of another 365 days. There are people who carry their baggage around, and there are those like me who have it scribbled in notebook margins, phonebooks converted into impromptu journals, on the preface page in books, as wish lists written in coffee bars on dilapidating scraps of tissue paper.

Was going through a series of sporadic wishlists - some written over months and years, others with additions made to them the next day -- lovingly preserved. I was rather surprised to find that over the years, my wishlist has not varied much. While I have added items and experiences here and there, the overall want has remained constant. Which means what? That either I have not changed at all or I have not grown at all? Hmm, I would rather believe that I am consistent...even in the mistakes.

Review time: sharing some random stuff on the list and realising that wishes are not always about 'things' and materials. The usual, the mundane, the instant-gratifications and the lazy satisfactions:

1. Two more tattoos
2. Learn how to fix electrical appliances, sick of calling electricians who don't turn up.
3. Know how to 'make' my own stuff: like call bells, table lamps, own speakers and woofer...
4. Install a solar panel on 'my' house
5. Own a custom-made Chopper: my size, with Clit Chatting inscribed on the number plate.
6. My collection of every possible pair of boots from across the globe: love boots!
7. And weird shaped earthen jars and unusual wooden things...
8. Own a robot or a cyborg (if those happen that is)
9. Get regular medical check ups
10. I love music, but my soul is that of a dancer: have a room just to dance

11. Dance, completely free, to my kind of music amidst high, high sand dunes, the cold sand curling under my toes and the dessert chill making goose bumps on my bare midrif. Dance, maybe to Flirting shadows (Hasan Cihat Orter) or Shanghai Street (DJ Jayant) or Mojave Mix (Afro Celt) or Rain Song (Karmic Labs) or Becoming Insane (Chemical Brothers) or Istanbul (REG Project) ... I go nuts when I fall for the music. And my way of loving the music is to give in. Fuck steps-shteps, I just let go. My mom says I was born with jhatkas. She means it as a rebuke. I love it. :)

12. Shoot my own game, perhaps skin it too...
13. Learn parkour. Practice, basically. Just that I mark very easiliy and walking around with blue-black marks as a chick is not that good an idea. But we shall see.
14. Have an entire collection of crystal animals and birds, every single one of them, I love them.
15. Make a complete bar for dad.
16. Every single animated and childrens' movie, definitely the ones I like.
17.. Have a room full of books, from one wall to another...or perhaps a hall way just lined with books...and huge cushions and rugs strewn around that you can pull anywhere. Pot-pourri, choice of music around, some munchies and a small fridge so that I dont have to walk to the kitchen when I am rapt in a book. Wont mind a body massage chair in here either. Heh.
18. Shoot nudes: men and women.
19. Have a room full of nudes. In pictures. :)
20. Start Adopt A Stray.
21. Physical violence against women: work on that.
22. Learn make-up: from smokey eyes to nude look or whatever: whether i do it or not., I should know how to.
23. Have flat-soled slippers in every possible colour. :) And sarongs!
24. Have a personal masseuse. Hmm. A really hot woman. Or make that a absolutely gorgeous bodied, tanned, biteable, man as my masseur. Sigh.
25. have a talking parrot.
26. Act in a movie...and win an Oscar. :)
27. Dance on stage: as in a performance. Had one at 13, before the then-vice president of the country, solo Bharatnatyam...was a dance drama. Sigh. Funny, how had it been possible for me to join a dance class... would probably have been a Indian classical dancer. Shrug.
28. Start my kitchen idea... holiday cooking, my menu, my venue, you eat.
29. Have a baby. Perhaps. Maybe. Will I? (and stop freaking out at the idea)
30. Bungee jump: i am paranoid of heights. Particularly straight flight of steps...
31. Travel the world: and by that, I mean be able to live with like the locals and THEN say that I have been to a place
32. Meet and kiss Julian Rhind-Tutt. nothing else, just close my eyes, throw my arms around his neck and KISS him. I have SUCH a huge crush on him. THAT smile, it is so wicked. Siiiiiiiigh. AND he rides a Ducati 1000DS Motorcycle. Naked on the show. LOVE it. bitey-bitey-bite-bite.

33. Pay someone to develop technology where whatever I am thinking will type itself out as a blog. This is tiring...
more later....looking at some pictures of Julian. God that hair. I want to further mess it up. Grrr.

April 24, 2007

Kutta dekha kya?

Kutta dekha kya = Seen a dog?

UFFFFFF. It's just been going on in my head....this entire, you-should-write-something-meaningful shite. Arre baba, if you cannot see the meaning, what can I do about it?!

So what do you want to read?

That women are being beaten in their houses daily? Boring, is it not? Of course, it will be. You see it everyday -- your mom perhaps? No? Ah, parents are already divorced, separated or living in different parts of the house, are they? Ah, you did not even notice: the summer vacations you came home, they behaved normally , right? Or your sister....well, she did marry the bugger she loved, so she should have known what she was getting into, right? Have you never wondered why after her marriage, she changed into someone you did not know at all? Or your best friend at school. Have you ever seen her panic when her boyfriend calls her? Or how she cannot really hang out late with you -- even if you are a woman -- because her boyfriend would be unhappy about it? No, no, why should you want to read all this? Whenever a woman writes, it's either labelled fucking feministic or it is writing about sex.

Do you know the number of men who would only like to get inside a woman and fucking fuck
her without evern bothering to see if she has come or even after that if she even likes
what you are fucking doing to her? And no, of course, writing about all that is fucking
pandering to sexual deviants. Sure, hah, a woman ASKING for good sex is a deviant, isn't
she? So what do you want to read about?

Current affairs is it? So you want to read about the Indo-US tiff on nuclear policy (on a blog called eve emancipation?!). Starting off on that note: what are the names of India's top three missile heads? Sure the world will end tomorrow if Iran were to go trigger happy; and let's not even talk about what China CAN do. Russel Peters won't be going 'Tapsumbong' after that. If international relations and the arms race does not interest you, let's try another form of current affairs: Environment.

I was completely awed by the emails that were forwarded about dolphins being massacred on some island. So many people responded to the poor dollies being killed. I have never seen a dolphin in real life. And I am bloody sure that the majority of my country has not either. But since I have seen dolphins on TV, I happily forwarded the email that announced that dolphins have sex for pleasure. It also included humans as the other species that has sex for pleasure, but I don't believe it anymore. I also forwarded that email because it spoke of sex...and as is common knowledge, I can only think/write sex. But I am veering/ diverging/ tangenting/ whatever.

While most people in India have not seen a dolphin - EVERYONE - and I mean everyone, HAS seen a dog. Been barked at by one, cho-chweeted pups on the roadside. Thrown left-overs at. Nearly wet their pants when five dogs have charged at you. Most men - at some point or the other - have felt personally affronted by an alpha dog charging at their bike/car. Basically, everyone has some or the other dog story.

And yet, despite having seen dogs and grown up with them, Bangalore (Bengalodhu is what I say) happened. How many have a mongrel (street dog/pie dog) for a pet? HECK. I love rottweilers, Bernards, pugs and Boxers... but I love a mongrel equally. How many of you dolphin-saving people will join a community that consciouslyworks at ADOPTING mongrel pups? Fuck, I will personally find you a pup, clean it, get it checked, vaccinated and bring him home to you with a bow tie. Just promise that you would treat it right. With every dog lover picking up at least one stray, there won't be no dogs to kill. And please, people brought dogs into the human environs. If today we are crying about three kids having been mauled, well.... (with complete empathy for those who lost their kids)... we have had it coming. Animals cannot talk: dogs have been beaten, children have attached firecrackers to their tails, I've seen a packs of kids - and cute looking things - pelting a pup with stones... the pup went and hid under a truck...and the kids pulled it out and started stoning it again. To be very honest: I wanted to beat the living daylights out of those kids. AARGH. Fuck it.

I shall go write about orgasming... since those dogs are dead, the dolphins are now blubber and people would still have a problem with me wondering about my orgasms... I'd rather shag and be happy than worry about who's having a problem.

Got a mail today that said, "You are a fake."
Yes, I am good at it. Come (cum), I will fake for you as well.

April 23, 2007

Monday morning boos....

Goodmorning! It's 8.20 am on a Monday and between finishing my coffee-cigarette-crossword and going for my bath, I am sitting and scribbling in my favourite spiral notebook. Sometimes I wonder if I would write/blog as much if I had someone to discuss all this with. And then maybe perhaps not. There is writing about random things that bounce around your head and there's catching someone to talk to... not the same. While I can write what I want to, talking to another about most things on my mind might not be that conducive an idea.

Imagine a phone conversation that follows thus:

"Hello darling," me on the phone, "Just wanted to talk to you. What do you think of helping an old lady catch an auto on the street? All because you suddenly get a vision of your old parents standing with loaded bags and bent backs in the scorching heat while the autodrivers sat around, cleaning their teeth or their ears or scratching their lice-infected balls? And no one bothers a fuck that those old people -- your parents -- could most definitely pass out in the heat? Have you ever wondered, darling, that Life is so funny: you have children, bring them up and when you need them the most -- like when standing in the heat waiting for an auto - your children are busy with their own lives..maybe even blogging about relationship problems. And partying every night while you lose sleep over them?"

Nope, I don't think I can 'talk' about what I think and write about to anyone. And that is perhaps why the idea of waking up with anyone beside me is making me extremely nauseous... Firstly, what is the whole point? And secondly, while I want to feel all the nice things of being with someone, but I dont want to at the same time as it seriously defocusses me. I am not one born with a silver spoon but I've had a very comfortable life. And yet, things and Life and money are frivolous companions. So I cannot lose focus -- ever again or for a very, very long time -- because I cannot leave my parents alone and helpless. They are proud, self-made people...and now it is my turn.

I am not smart enough for quick schemes and am painfully perfectionist to use someone else's work to grow or for that matter use short cuts. And since I would always be thinking of ulterior motives if someone tried to godfather/mother me...that is out as well. So hard work is the only option left for me;and am not scared. I so want to, too. And let no one stand in the way. 2006 made me realise that I can have a really mean, vicious streak to me... just that I need to develop it further. And I am quite looking forward to using it as well, for better or for someone else's worse. No one thinks/takes me as a 'sweet' girl. I am not a sweet girl: so fucking try? The blog is meant to provoke, irritate, make you barf, curse me, even start a campaign against me. But you will not ignore me.
Post scrap: And the Princess said, "Fuck You, I enjoy it too."

Convenience, conscience and self-help Sundays

At times I wonder why people read me. Some write in saying they relate to stuff: am grateful to them for it means there is hope for me and I am not a freak. But I wonder about those who cannot stand what I write and still read me. Or those who have never read a word and still have a problem with it. Like the umpteen who love to announce, "Hey, I really want to read your blog, heard it's all about sex." Funnily, the barbs usually come from women and gays. WHY should people have a problem with what I write? WHY should I write on current affairs and WHY should you want to read it here? Please don't read, I seriously would not care. And even IF it is about sex: what be the problem? The last I checked, cyberspace was free and even if it weren't, your pop sure isn't paying for server space.

Yet, it is somewhat eerie when people come up and say they read me. Because from popular reaction -- strangely, ONLY in the city I live in -- I am being gladly and gleefully, misunderstood; and being commented upon when I have not even been read! Typical of the city to open your trap about things you least know of. But I refuse to feel guilty about the way I think or what I write and how.

"Don't you get tired of doing everything yourself, don't you get lonely?" asked Mom, after I had rattled off my pulled-this-lugged-that list on Sunday. I know where that question is coming from. When Mom was my age, she was married to the man she loved, had a 5-year-old and was expecting her second child. And here I am, going on 29, spouseless, childless and decidedly, prospectless too. Shrug. What can I do Ma, I tried. C'est la vie.

And how does one answer that question? I am meeting many people - men and women - who all want to 'settle down' or are at least open to the idea of looking at a longer, permanent association with another. And yet, all these people seem to be seeking endlessly. If there are so many single, eligible people around, why are there so many people single? At least those in my age group (with broken relationships in the past) seem to have reached a stage where you would rather spend your time and energies building something concrete - like perhaps your career - than run behind idealistic ideas. And even if you meet someone who fits in, there are times when you a tad suspicious or even reluctant to give up your comfortably created security to make space for another.

Then again, there are many Rebound Creating Rebound situations happening around me as well. Boy loves girl (or vice versa). Girl leaves boy. Heartbroken, boy fucks around. Boy finally meets new girl, starts seeing her. New girl falls for boy. Boy does not, still mooning/angry/suspicious about Ex. New girl becomes sad, boy becomes angry. Boy finally dumps new girl saying, "this is not working out". Heartbroken, new girl fucks around. New girl finally meets new boy, dates. New boy falls for girl, who does not reciprocate because... And so on and so forth. Till either partner goes in for arranged marriage, swears to stay single or in some, rare cases, breaks the pattern, finds a partner and lives happily ever after.

And then there are those who want the best of all worlds, like me. I do miss the companionship, shared laughter, together-discoveries and general fun that comes with being with someone. But I do not want a relationship and am not in the market 'looking out'. The other day, a friend of mine -- who has been trying to give me odd-hour back rubs! -- tried to set me up with another friend of his saying, "Considering your situation and his situation, I thought..." Erm, WHAT is the situation? Ha, ha. Just because you are not part of the situation does not mean that the situation is bad. And that is the whole beauty of it. No matter how many think that it is personal writing and whatever, at the end of the day, the situation is only known to me. Loneliness is a state of being and the question being whether you want to share that loneliness with another or not. Some will fit in, some won't. Relationships, thy true name is convenience.

Post Scrap: The Princess filled in the mandatory status report on Self Situation:
Head: Over-analytical. Heart: Hibernating. Torso: Exercising and loving it. :) Conscience: Guilt free. As always.
Continues into Monday morning boos...

April 21, 2007

Going keep your mouth shut OR your pants on!

Infidelity, sleeping around, cheating on your partner, promiscuity, multifucking... if you were to analyse or scrape beyond the obvious and the accepted, all definitions absolutely differ according to individual perspectives. Some might say adultery is the end of marriage others might say that adultery perhaps saves a lot of marriages. For you it's cheating if your partner sleeps around; for your partner it's keeping the spark alive. Shrug. The thought's there, am not being able to put it into words properly, so will come back to it someday, if the thought comes back to me that is...!

(Listening to Talvin Singh on his official space while have tapes of him at home: heard him live again the other night at Tabula Rasa. And was very happy that T played one of my personal favourite's, Dubla (from his album Ha). Sigh, nothing like a good night of music.)

People say that women do not know how to keep things quiet or do not know how to keep a secret. Dude, at least women know how to keep their mouth shut about certain crucial things unlike men who want to open their mouths even before they have put their pants back on. Rather pointedly, if men were to keep their 'score' unto themselves - rather than advertising it to all his beer buddies when watching F1 - everybody would get laid more. And there are two
reasons why a woman might not want you to discuss her with your friends - WHEN you have
slept with her. One, she wants to sleep with one (or all) of your buddies and two, she knows
that most men cannot handle the entity called a Well-Experienced Woman. And of course let's not forget the entire She Be A Slut thing, but that's hackneyed. Shrug. Maybe men don't prefer an experienced woman due to performance anxiety. Women would sleep around - casually, promiscuously, without asking men to marry them - if they knew the men they were sleeping with would not go around discussing their G-spot or dishing out user manuals to Others. Of course, women discuss thing with their friends; but I am still to come across any woman who walks into a bar and announces to all in general that she is doing a guy.

Personally, no matter how much of a havoc my hormones create in my system, I wouldn't venture near a guy who has a tongue that wags eloquent about me rather than on me. 'Growing
up' or accepting the Laws of Sleeping Around, one realises that you EITHER don't fall for the person you are sleeping with; or don't get to sleep with the person you have fallen for or you realise that sex and orgasm don't necessarily go hand in hand, or maybe that sex with others wont give you that orgasm. The least you can expect in all these scenarios --- and no, banging sex is a must, you are not sleeping with another to appreciate the distribution of body hair, you are doing so to have banging sex -- so the least you can expect is respect for the person you are sharing your body with AND discretion.

Even when not announcing verbally,men have their ways of sending out signals that hint at more than an association between people, often, when its not there. Like a casual arm around your waist that stays there for 20 minutes as you are being introduced to the 20 other men in the room. Or casually asking, "Baby, are you hungry?" before everyone present and it leaves you wondering as to when exactly did the dude decide to 'baby' you instead of using your name. Or some men add a "Trust me, you don't know her, she always does this" -- when you're sharing an anecdote or some other personal detail -- when all you have known the guy for is three days. Or even announcing how the "two of us were at that party last night," with particular emphasis on the "us" when all you had done was request the dude for a ride (that too because your cabby wasn't around).

As a rule - unless am dating the guy or till am sure he isn't the wrong-signal sending sort -- I wouldn't 'go' anywhere with the guy, call a sab, hop onto three autorickshaws even hitch -- but won't arrive at a party with a dude. Again, if women look at a guy to be discreet, chicks also appreciate patience. And where looks, swagger and that swanky car will NOT get a girl, Patience can. When a woman hangs out with you, sends you SMSes, wants to meet you and shows every other sign on interest BUT sleeping with you -- HOLD ON. She will, sooner or later; and if a dude plays his cards right, it's sooner rather than later. It could be she's waiting to see, getting more comfortable or getting to know the guy better. Some women like to take their time: even when what they might be looking for is casual. Yes, women TOO look at associations casually instead of wanting to marry every other they meet! And if girls had their way - without being talked about, labelled, sluttified etc -- women would be much more promiscuous than men. Think about it: a guy has to do much more to lay a woman; a chick has just got to be willing. Yes, there is always a chance that the chick -- while a guy thinks she is considering sleeping with him -- is actually making a glorified, blue-balled fool out of the guy but hey, we all have gotta take our chances, right?

Patience has been one of the classifying factors in the Players I have met. Patience to wait for you, discretion about the others he might be sleeping with while he waits for you and finally respect and mutual pleasure when you two do get together. For whatever period of time, or even once. And a true Player does NOT break hearts. He does not like it messy. Currently, am marvelling at the extreme patience shown by someone, extremely irritated at another's proprietory attempts when I have not even kissed him, decidedly clear that I don't want anything with the third who thinks he is God's gift to women-kind (and if there's one woman who proves him wrong, it's gonna be me) and the fourth with whom there is every other connect except for the small, practical fact that we have NEVER met.

And well...there is Could-Be-Trouble, who no matter how much I ignore, he doesn't seem to be going out of the picture or my stupid head. AND he does such weird things. We don't meet any other time except for bumping into each other at random parties or some other event but... BUT FUCKING BUT... I will change my name, have plastic surgery and have a sex change if I am reading this wrong. I have NEVER been wrong in reading chemistry (have always misread love but never chemistry) and there IS something definitely up. He touches me suddenly...am passing him by and he would touch my back or my shoulder or oh-so-gently touch my waist...and GOD, I am SO aware. I have SEEN him looking at me across the terrace... have felt my skin prickle and turned and seen him quickly look away...always from in between people...

My gut says it is on and this entire post was to repeat my own 'gyan' to myself: PATIENCE woman. Remember girl, a true player waits. Hahaha, and I want to play.

Post scrap: The Princess could feel that He was different, yes, she could feel it right above her belly button. And she had a premonition, "Soon", she said to self and preened: she always liked a good game.

April 18, 2007

Going again and then not again!

He took her
To the heights she could not reach
And depths she could not fathom.

He made her
Feel things she wanted denied
And thoughts that came at random.

She wanted
To run to him
Fall at his feet
And breathe her last in his mouth.

I have never been poetic and definitely not been able to rhyme. Still cannont in fact. However, strangely, verses make sense to me, especially when He quotes them. He? Unknown, not met, words that invoke havoc in me because he seems to talk words that are meant for me. Only me. It's exciting, reading him, listening to him, talking to him, laughing with him...there's so much in common, even the fact that we have never met. It's a simple case of hopping on a plane and landing before the other...but we both don't want to do it. Too scared, both of us. Even that is in common. Is it a joke, a tease or another cruel caper, the ones that Life seems to love...? I don't know, he says he doesn't know it either. We will find out, I guess. And meanwhile, words make more sense to me than they ever have.


And that is what happens when you have been there and done them. You don't know if the new excitement that you feel is exciting enough... or whether it will lead somewhere. Somewhere too, there is a sort of ennui with all that goes into the dating game, whether real or virtual. You just get tired and somewhat dreary of sending messages, finding out common interests and what kind of music the other listens to, and what they do in their entire day. Because you constantly keep thinking: the other times did not work out and were wasted efforts, what if this one's too...? But then that's life: no pain, no gain!

April 17, 2007


"I write features, fiction and farce... and one of them is my official job."

Indian men cum too soon?

And here I have been screaming hoarse about it for ages....and AGES. One of the reasons why rather libidinous me cannot seem to get my engine revving these days. The fact that Indian men come too soon, or before you have started or before you can even say, "Honey, ARE you in?"
Since most people wont believe me, now the Durex Sex survey also states what yours truly had been ranting about - that Indian men have the shortest staying power in bed. (Vindicated, at least the bad sex feels like research now!)

The report says Indian men last in bed for only about 13 minutes. The TRUTH, ladies AND gentlemen, is 7 minutes. The other 6 (to make the 13) they include in foreplay, which includes parking the car, taking the elevator and taking the clothes off.

HA HA HA, and see the bloody joke: despite their VERY short staying power in bed, Indian men (61 %) are MOST satisfied with their sex lives as against 44% of the ROW. HAHAHAHAH. Not only do the buggers cum soon, they even believe they are doing it right. SHIT. I feel so bad for my fellow indian women.

Interestingly, Indians (men and women) have more sex than the rest of the world : 130 times a year as compared to 103 for the ROW (rest of the world). Really?! I am surprised and some what unbelieving. And since I am not too sure if the survey included sex with inanimate objects and neighbourhood dogs, I am not going to believe this one. I am not getting any, so anyway I am not believing it! :)

Only 46 per cent of Indians report a regular orgasm. And two-thirds of Indian women say they are satisfied with their sex lives, compared to 58 per cent of men. Please revert to the first point in the post and the second point thereafter. Premature ejaculating men who believe they are god's gift to womenkind...AND you expect the chicas to be satisfied? Snort.

While more than two-thirds (67 per cent) of Indians say their sex lives are exciting, 55 per cent recognise the importance of introducing a little experimentation, with telephone sex and massage included as new trial activities. Oh yeah, and ALL of that in 13 minutes. Brilliant. We spend time giving massages and setting up the seduction scenario and then we fall asleep.

And of yeah, teenagers are apprarently having less sex, but each session is apparently 40 minutes long. Quality over quantity...I think I am going to stop thinking about the young ones as "kids". You know, the current generation anyway matures faster. And that 40 minute looks damn near inviting. Hahahahaha.
Yes, catch them young, train them hard and watch them grow. Maybe it's not that bad an idea, being the 'older' woman. (Evil grin)

April 16, 2007


Violence is a two way street. It takes one to be violent and another to take that violence. What makes one hit another? What makes a man hit a woman? And why does the woman take it?

I have heard of a married lady who took a beating from her husband daily, for 22 years before walking out. She said she took it for her kids. Another friend was regularly beaten up by her boyfriend. One particular conversation, where she mumbled through the talk because her mouth was swollen shut, I will always remember.
"Why do you take his beating?"
"I love him," she said.
"Why does he beat you if he loves you?"
"He gets angry. He only beats me when he is angry. Otherwise he is ok."
"Have you ever thought of doing something about it? Telling someone?"
"No...actually he is very smart. He never leaves marks. See...my mouth... he punches me on the mouth. It does not leave a cut and still hurts and the mouth just swells up."
"But your mouth is swollen?! How do you explain that to people?"
"I say I bumped into a door."

I have heard many of my women friends declare that they would never take a man beating them. "I will walk out the day my boyfriend/husband/partner raises his hand on me." Or, "I will not take physical abuse, I will report him to the police," and other such things. But the truth about physical abuse is that when it happens, you really ont know what to do. It shocks you into not doing anything. When you are hit by someone who is close, you dont know what hit you. First, you are shocked that a friend/lover/partner has hit you. Not someone you trust to be there for you and protect you. And then there is one slap and there is beating someone.

Nothing can explain or justify to your befuddled brain when the person you love assaults you, repeatedly. When the one you care for pulls you by the hair and throws you on the ground. When you are caught by the collar of your shirt, lifted off the ground and smashed against a wall. It makes your skull swell for two weeks. You cannot sleep on that side, you cannot even comb your hair because it hurts so much. You cannot react or retaliate or say anything when you are held by the hand, made to stand and slapped repeatedly. You really don't know if you are looking at the same person you think you know when the person slaps you then watches your face to see if it's hurting. And then slaps you again and again and again, making your head swing from one side to the other. Ensuring that his fingers imprint on your face. Pleas to stop dont work. The more you say you are being hurt, the more it eggs on the aggressor.

It is the most extreme kind of violation to be hit by the person you love. It is inhuman. Because equality be damned, men are physically stronger than women. And if you happen to be small for your size... One can understand hatred and dislike and losing interest and not wanting to be with someone and falling out of love.... but physical abuse, when it is with the aim to HURT you, you cannot understand that. And violence, once accepted in your life, will always remain. You can do nothing when the other casually threatens over some innocuous argument, "You know I can smash your face. You know I can do it." So you feel scared and you shut up. And you are constantly scared that you would be hurt, because you dont know when he would stop, or at what point.

I want a gun. Because when you are confined in a small space with someone who is coming at you, I dont think love, dignity or even basic respect for another human's life make sense. Then it's just you against me. Physical violence is scary, because once you face it, you're never the same in your life. Any man can hurt you. Any man -- when you are in a confined space with him -- can twist your arm around your back, throw you onto the floor and kick your ribs. Because you dont know if you can trust that 'friend', 'lover', 'boyfriend' again.... because any moment, he could flare up at anything. And it is always your fault.

Men can be the most gentle and loving creatures when they want to be... but when a man becomes a beast, perhaps the only way to handle him is to put him down. I want a gun. And any man who raises his hands on a woman -- especially one who cannot retaliate -- is not fit to be called a man. He is a diseased individual who does not respect another's right to a safe life and has no right to live either. I SO need a gun. Because I cannot live being scared. Because you never know when the next man you meet will hurt you, physically.

It's a shit way to think, but then there are shit men around too. And to the women who take it: You didn't know that he would ever hit you. Are you so sure He will not kill you tomorrow? Once a man crosses that barrier, please remember, he will never stop.

April 11, 2007

Your Skin Is My Sin

a.k.a. You Are My Ulcer

I want your skin on me
Vein to vein, feel your scent seep into my pores.

I want to splay my hands across every plane you have,
Cradle, every curve.

I want to bite your calf, kiss the inside of your elbow,
And singe my breast against your ragged jaw.

I want to bite your lower lip,
And feed on it for hours.

I want to kiss. Your brow, your breast, your beard, your naked flesh.
I want to breathe you in; and die afresh.
And I want to see you.

To see if you see that I need you.
I want your skin on me.

Next Post: Porn is a fucking fraud

Just Married, Just Harried?
Hear Delhi, Here I Cum

April 9, 2007

I can shrink to fit!

In another month (some days short) I am going to hit 29, running. And lawrd, I swear I was sitting for my college entrance exams just the other day....
Maintenance Check:
1. No grey hair, not even a strand...anywhere!
2. Ever so light, laugh lines, no crows' feet yet
3. Don't border on fair anymore, definitley, darkly, dusky

4. Had thick, bushy caterpillar eyebrows -- now they've been tweezed and threaded into feminine curves under the expertise of nimble fingers and an often-wet thread
(Warning for women - and men - to not go for threading when you have cuts and pimples. Also, please ask the salon person to immediately stop the moment you feel a wet thread. It is not ok. A thread that's been wet with someone else's saliva is not just gross, it's unhealthy and could mean AIDS or Herpes).

5. Realised - amidst a lot of other jumping thoughts that I forgot to pen down - that, umm... I lost my virginity at 19. It does not feel like 10 years since I first... nah it doesn't feel, NOT, nah, unh-unh.

6. Skin has become 'finer' than earlier - thanks to the cigarettes - and marks very easily.

7. SIGH. Hair is completely different, from down to my hips, straight hair, it's now short and reaches the bra strap. In another 6 months though, should be almost long. But it's not growing out straight anymore, it's just wild and all over the place.

8. The overall face, it's much leaner than I have ever been , suddenly discovered that I have cheek bones! And a jaw line!

9. The last time I had any sort of fringe was at 4...when I wore frocks that showed my panties. Heh heh, should try that now. :)

10. FUCK! There was a time I was 4! And 21 and brazen! Sigh. I was 21! :( SIGH.
11. Realised that Nubile Young Thing will NEVER apply to me anymore.
12. Realised that it was yesterday that I read an article that said facials are a must after you are 25...and am not getting the mandatory necessary-to-look-younger massages!

13. Is very grateful that science is constantly advancing: in another 8-10 years, in vitro fertilisation would have developed far more to bother about biological clocks etc.
And it would not cost as much to look like Demi Moore at 40. (Or bag a 25-year-old)

14. Have developed a strange empathy for people who say they have a committment phobia; even if the said people are Men. Some people just can't.

15. Ten years since the first relationship, and am still wondering if committment is perhaps about finding the right person or deciding to commit to the one you are with, right or wrong.

16. There is no point in cribbing; and no matter how much you complain, there IS a merit to saving for a rainy day.

17. Finally know exactly what the phrase "a rainy day" means. I have non-stop rainy weeks!

18. Maybe am also getting comfortable with being by myself, of spending day after day, at home, wtihout the need for other people or wondering if I am alone because I dont have friends or cannot make them. I CAN be alone and enjoy it. Thank God! Finally, I wont be dating dorks just to BE with someone. And of course there is Golu Dawg.

19. Realised that a lot of things Dad said were right; particularly the bit about a lot of things he said making sense when I was 30. Got it a year earlier Papa... Won't tell him though. :) Also realised that perhaps I would repeat all of what he said to my kids (IF i have them) and perhaps even they won't understand me... And I will have to wait and watch my child suffer and learn his/her own lessons....much like I did (am doing) and much like Papa had to watch... I dont know though, if I would be able to do it as gracefully as him.

20. And I don't know what I will 'do' on my birthday. Last year, it was with someone and there was a different direction to life; or at least one I wanted to take. Now I know that life must go on; but am not too keen on the directions. Or rather, on WHO is with me when I am walking my own road. I was alone, I will be alone. But I won't be scared anymore.

Ten years back, I was fat, wore thick spectacles, tied my hair in a boring plait and wore clothes that hid my body. I still thought the way I did, almost, except that I believed in many more 'good things' about life and people. Back then I was told that my butt was way to big for my size and my breasts were so big that some women even called them disproportionate. Jealous bitches :) Back then, I used to think that Acceptance By The Male Species would mean being the specified size and doing the things you are supposed to do to 'get' the guy you want.

LOL. Today, I am 36-24-34. Prescribed vital stats. Job that pays well. Own living space. No one to answer to, or question. And they tell me that my butt is way too small for my size and is almost not there. The same women who thought my boobs were obnoxious and misshapen earlier; now tell me that I should think of investing in a Wonderbra for cleavage. HAHAHA. Jealous bitches...they cannot handle the fact that I can go without a bra and STILL be pert while their boobs will be touching their navels.
Yes, in 10 years, I can definitely laugh at a lot of things, I can shrink to fit and STILL not care. When there was more of me, you didn't care; and now you say there is less of me?

Post Scrap: The Princess walked tall and content in her small form. As the full moon suddenly sprung from behind the pregnant nimbus, the other Fair & Lovely Maidens paled in the silver light. All this while the Princess watched - her small frame standing tall - as the moonlight danced a glow on her dark skin.

And somewhere in the shadows, a voice had once quoted else, "And not even the rain has such small hands."

April 2, 2007


Another new month and living up to its tradition of changing a whole lot of things at once, Life once again, delivers a Twist in the Tale.
New home.
New job.
Golu Dog distressed because he is wondering why we are staying in a new place.
Wondering if finally the financial drought will be over...
Too many mosquitoes, dont want dengue
Dying to start cooking
Want to paint windows in shades of green and cream and the kitchen in yellow and orange
Told my boss I was resigning, Boss wasnt surprised, did not ask me to stop. :)
Have to buy new music system ...and new bath rugs
Realised that I really dont have time for people who dont have time for me
Really dont like people who pretend about Anything... the time they have for you, the interest they show in you, the pretense of anything...
Wishing I get the househelp soon.
So much to do!!! Doing up new house and hoping I would last here.