arkh – i’m gonna be a cliche

It upsets me and then I get over it and then when I feel I am all over it, I find out surprisingly that I am actually still not over it.

People at work think I’m having an affair. People have thought that previously as well. Not the first time. This time they have been thinking this for the past one year. What is different this time is that its with someone I genuinly care about. The person in question happens to be much (much) older than me, married with 2 kids, he happens to be one of the most decent people I know. I love him, adore him and respect him. However I hate how it has become this weird uncomfortable thing when it shouldnt be. He’s very respected, being in a senior management position, which makes me often feel that it might have to do with jealousy as well… either way i hate how this is such a thing! it frustrates me and annoys me! There are times when I am stepping out to grab a bite and I feel like I am more concious about who I am telling this seemingly innocous news to. Fortunately both him and I are married to people who are self- assured and dont give much heed to such nonsense .. still its a pain and a half.

 

Makes me wonder how sad everyone around me really is. Its been a year since I have been friend’s with him and people havent gotten bored with it yet, amazing really!

and no, this is being published without a proofread hence the hundred mistakes i must have made. i apologize.

Waiting to dance for you…

I want to dance for you, hazel-eyed boy. My gift to you.

I want to see you, looking at me, dancing for you. My gift to me.

You complimented me on my eyes once. You said the real dancing happens there. You laughed when I told you what anatomy of yours was the queen ballerina.

So when you are away and I am feeling your away-ness a tad too much, thats what  I miss the most. Dancing for you. Your eyes on me. The perfect cock-tail of love and lust in your eyes. Sheer joy, for me.

Office-Romance, any one?

I didnt think I would have wanted this until recently.

Every closet seems to be so inviting. The board room tables seem to be staring at me, teasing me, about how unused they are. The print room with its constant buzzing could muffle so many moans.

And if you are already in that frame of mind and you are made to go away on a company trip for “team building” to a romantic get-away, when you are already suffering from post-menstrual horniess then you are up for some rather testing times.

I dont know if it was me but while I will openly admit that there is not even a single cute guy in my entire office building, which bytheway houses around a 1000 people, as a geneeral rule however it was very amusing to find two guys extremely attractive. OUT-OF-THE-BLUE. Suddenly!

I kid you not when I say there were times when I seriously considered jumping one of them.

Anyway nice to know that forgeting the darned/ loved engagement ring is not easy no matter what hormone levels you might reach. It didnt go anywhere apart from me dishing out some sexy moves and grinding one of them, mentally and not literally, on the dance floor .

Wow! I have grown up.

Romantic Blasphamy

Your spouse, partner, lover, fiance can never be your best friend.

He* can be more. He can be less. But he will never be your best friend. It is extremely important to make peace with it, even more so when that ‘special someone’ is going to be there, in your life in the long run.

Now why do I say this? Very simple. A best friend, is okay with the worst-you. Also no matter how much you love your best friend, his life and the decisions he makes are never going to affect your life. So the fact that he is a womanizer, who sometimes likes to hang out with the queers, loves the color purple, wears parrot green socks matched with an equally green boa, will never hamper your friendship with him. If you are hangin with company that might be a teeny-tiny vary of his colorful life, you will stand up for him, get into a cat fight, and show off the opponent’s kidney on your drawing room Mantle, for your coming generation’s to see.

Now imagine this was your fiance, we are talking about.

First of all, let’s suppose you have a real awful taste in Men, and you do find the above mentioned Sir, rather sexy, would you actually go out with him?… Knowing that he’s the man the world will associate you with?..That you might one day be sitting on stage with the guy whose real name nobody knows, since everyone has their own pet name for him… and no its not cause everyone loves it him.

..hence established he’s not your best friend and neither are you his.

Also remember, he needs to trust you. and you need to make sure that that trust is 100%. Work for a few months. Trust me, until its some psycho-convict-rapist-serial-killer type you are getting jiggy with, normal men don’t take longer than that. Cause if tomorrow, someone comes up to him and tells him that they think you are/ were up to no good or some other version of that. He should atleast come and clarify it with you. Unfortunatly, the kind of society that we function in, this happens to almost every girl out there… and let’s be honest, we all do have histories.. rather colorful, interesting ones… Now let’s suppose you say something really really nasty about a best friend of your who you just had a huge fight with. This fight was mostly your fault (we obviously blame it on the hormones)… chances are a few weeks down the line you two are going to get back to being BFFs.. However let me take you inside your dude’s head..let’s suppose you have a fight with his best friend, or his sister, or cousin or mom.. He will dig this memory out and agree to whatever the other person is saying. if not 100% than atleast 50%. He will have seen you falter. He will be aware of your mortal-ness. I am not saying he will not love you. He will just not trust you.

…and this means head-fucks you could have avoided, if you were just a little smarter.

Furthermore, you are bound to get in to nasty nasty shit-fights with your guy. Frequencies differ, but everyone does. Most men and women have the tendency to dig out the worst about eachother and get into mud-slinging. You always want to have the last word in. You do not want him to show you a mirror. Not many women have the heart to stomach that stuff, as honest as it would be.

..your best friends can call you a slut, albeit jokingly, but they can. They can know about the dude you cheated on, with his best friend. They can tell you that the red nail paint is making you look like a tramp and get away with it. It just not funny when its your guy whose saying things like that. Just like how its not cool for a girlfriend/ fiance/ wife to call her own husband gay jokingly.

So yeah, if you’re still romantically naive, and you believe that your true love, is going to be your husband, who you will never ever lie to and manipulate, and he will also happen to be your best friend, then My love, read this one again and trust me.

Your guy is never your best friend.

*Insert she/her if you are a guy

Say ‘No’ to alcohol

Seriously.

Especially if you are around someone who you have a mini-crush on. You shall not come out of it, with your dignity and attitude and the oomph, which is so your signature thing, intact. You might beg him to make out with you, even when he is trying to keep a distance. Rejection, shall be the only thing you remember the next morning. Wouldnt remember the good times, sad it is. Just the bad parts.

So I am just saying. Say no to alcohol. Remain sexy and sultry and on-top-of-your game. Thats the way a lady should be. Always! 

However if the next morning you wake up and meet the boy, the object of your random affections, and he is non-chalante about it, you might have just experienced the most cutest, sweetest thing a random crush is ever gonna do for you. Ever.

Yummy Boy, I shall never forgive myself for the fall from grace … just like I’ll never get over how cheek-pulling the “its okay, we both had had quite a few” was…

I crossed a line and I liked it.

So Yummy Boy and me met again… and I crossed that line, where I say one giggly-girly-goodbye and never look back.

We got drunk. We danced. We explored prohibited territory. We let each other feel the ambrosial unholiness.

I had fun. Plain, Stupid, careless fun.

If only he didn’t have those lips. If only I wasn’t engaged. If only I was more appreciative of Life. If only I was the girl my mom wanted me to be. If only he didnt send shivers down my spine in that Godawfully delicious way. If only I felt some shame, some level of guilt.

No sorry, God. Not this time….

The Fiance

He’s perfect.

He’s smart, funny and quite good looking. He’s considerate and caring. He is supportive and encouraging. He wants my happiness and is forgiving when I fuck up (…which is saying something, considering I fuck up more than I don’t). He belongs to a good family and is going to go places. My family and my friends love him, sometimes I feel, more so, Than they love me. My mom, if she could, would adopt him and disown me.

I met him soon after a rather ghastly break-up. He was there and he was all that. I was young and heartbroken. Three months down the line, we got enagaged. A week after he left for his Masters. The Love story pretty much ended there.

What followed was a half attempt at making it work. I mean if you have all the ingrediants, then the dish has to be nice, eh?.. Well, turns out life isn’t so black and white. So I played the part of the dotting fiance. I laughed at all the right cues. I said ‘I love you too-s’ and I faked orgasms. I did it all. I was sure I could do it for a life time until I just couldn’t do it anymore.

So I keep the phone on silent and Thank God for a demanding job. I don’t shop and I run away from everyone who would bring up the month-&-a-half-away-wedding. I know I should quit… but How?.. What do I tell my parents?.. What do they tell the world?.. What do I tell him?..

I am just hoping that in a couple of years, when my younger ones have left the nest and mama, papa are alone, maybe they’ll not be too heartbroken by a divorce. Maybe they’ll be secretly relieved that they still have a live-at-home-kid?…

…and maybe it wouldnt be all that bad. Maybe?..

The Virgin Me

I have managed to hang on to my virginity to the ripe age of 25.  I shall be loosing it in a matter of a few weeks. I feel crap about it.

First it was Religion and Morality. The ‘Me No Skank, Brotha’ syndrome…that however stopped the moment my first Love did what them-boys-do-so-well; The kissing, the touching, the nibbling, the sucking, soon made me forget all that… I was stupid and so I wanted to take it slow. He really loved me and wanted me to be ready. Time flew by. Love kept growing. Until he died.

Also a friend of mine got pregnant when she was 16 and had to get an abortion. Needless to say, the experience was horrifying for her. I have always been strictly pro-life and I knew I would have to live with whatever happens following that.

Second time around, I wasn’t really tempted. I mean not enough.

Also the breakup which followed the second one was nasty. He said a lot of stuff, which included a lot of mean ass comments. I distinctly remember the ‘oh I got you to do all that for free’…  

Third time around I got engaged and then it was just a simple thing. If you have waited so long, why not just wait a little more. Loosing your virginity on your wedding night, with kabhi kabhi mayray dil may playing in the background was a pretty enough picture then. Also I had realized how forever is just another word. Even an engagement is not enough. Fucked up; I know.

..And now when I am just a few weeks away from getting married. I realize what an anti-climax this one is going to be! How none of the stupid reasons I had for hanging on to my virginity, justify it. Religion, Playing it safe, Parents, Reputation, Morality… none of it are worth it. I deserved getting a fairy-tale kick-ass first time and I can clearly look back at the past 6, 7 years and say that the ideal time was some where in the there. Not on my wedding night.

Sex should be sacred. And your first time should always be with some one special irrespective of whether you are married to them or not. Waiting to sign a paper before you jump in to the sack is sad and overrated.

A curious case of touching-mouching…

So he ever-so-slightly brushes by, randomly. Hand brushes Hand. Shoulder brushes Shoulder. All innocuous stuff. NOT.

I don’t remember the last time I had to play mind games. Thats what I cherish the most about being engaged. The end to all that. However I had overlooked one aspect of it. Mind games lead to suspence which in turn lead to thrills. This argument might be faulty, as this should mean that only people who marry twisted fucks can get the best of both the worlds. Anyway thats not the point.

The point is Yummy Boy and his tendency to randomly brush by me. Like its nothing.

What’s up with THAT?..

Lady Blues..

I hate random bouts of blues, which catch me on the weirdest of days. I hate wanting to hang out with some one and not being able to. I hate people judging me on the way I am. I hate office politics. I hate the impending lifestyles changes I am going to be suffering very soon. I hate that I said ‘suffering’. The pessimism is revolting. I hate that I am hating. I was never a hater.

I want peace and love and giggles and cuddles and chocolates and perverted jokes and a hard core rizla.