Ah-men!

Spiritual fucking is a term I have coined for desperate mortals who know that they have a bleak chance with women. They try to use terms like warm, caring friendship and sharing joys and sorrows to bond with a woman spiritually before they can get into her pants. They think that they will be able to give the woman a holy orgasm and tickle her senses! All they manage to do is tickle her funny bone. They are creeps of the lowest order. And their life value to intelligent and smart women is less than that of a cockroach. They are below mind fuckers!

The mind fuckers come in next. See, the mind fuckers manage to score a couple of points more than the spiritual fuckers. They don't discuss warm bonding but they incessantly try to portray how cool they are. Long drives and pubbing are their favourite hobbies. They look decent and may have even managed to lay a woman or two in their lives. That gives them so much confidence that they feel they can lay a Salma Hayek if allowed a date! They come with their "I am just looking for fun" tag line. And yet, in that one date, they want to talk about themselves - their cool friends, their cool bikes and cars, their love for pets, what turns them on in a woman, blah, blah, blah. Not once asking the woman how she can manage to keep her eyes open! So, at the end of all that mind fucking, 235 and a half yawns and ‘sad food never felt so yummy experience!’, the woman never wants to use the word fuck and him in the same sentence. Unless, the words come together with multiple exclamations and maybe, even the finger!

Then there are the semi cheapos or the one night stoods! The semi cheapos come out at as charming, sweet boys on the first date. They can make decent conversations, entertain women with their half decent half-baked histrionics and may even end up at her place. The sex is decent with some foreplay. The woman's satisfaction level is directly proportional to the number drinks she has downed. So if he has managed to get her drunk, he may get a four out ten in bed. The problem happens the next morning when the woman wakes up with a hangover and that toad next to her. Not surprisingly, she fails to have any decent conversation with him. With monosyllabic cordiality they split over a cup of coffee. He even promises to meet her again. But all he talks to her in the next few days over chat or text is sex. He lives with the hope that she will oblige. The woman realises that she prefers candles to him any day and promptly blocks him off her chat and sms. So that one night stand turns into a one night stood when he turns from Cinderella to a pumpkin.

Then there are the social schizos! They love to socialise, meet interesting people and make their life happening. They are pretty interesting themselves. Well mannered, good conversationalists and funny, they charm the women. The women after meeting the three low-lifes realize that maybe they can finally have a good time, which they do. The first date is a good one, where conversations flow along with the booze. The women feel relaxed and safer. They tend to let their guards down. The social schizo on the other hand also manages to have a good time. He doesn't put the woman to sleep and as a bonus, makes her laugh too. The conversation moves from the bar to the bedroom and eventually, he gets laid. He starts to enjoy the company! He even manages to hug the woman to sleep. But the schizo in him wakes up the next morning when he realises that he is having a good time and wanting some more is inversely proportional to his freedom. Suddenly, he feels claustrophobic and blames his social personality for making him have such a good time. The coffee conversation starts with I had a great time last night, moves to you are a wonderful lady and finally stops at I hope you are not looking for something serious in this. He decides to slap his schizo personality to rest for some time and continues with his acquittal conversation. The woman on the other hand is flabbergasted. She pretends to sit through all this with her I understand what you are saying smile but her eyes keep moving to the nearby kitchen knife. She cannot stab him but she hopes that the delusional talks end soon. All she can think is the great chemistry, which turned to better biology which at that moment was rapidly changing to Braille.

Turning 30..

2 more sundays before i turn 30.Its a nervous wait.So much is spoken about people crossing over to the next decade.But they dont speak about the last two weeks of being 29.How am I supposed to behave?Do i move gracefully towards that magic number.Am i supposed to introspect,retrospect and then take the plunge?Am i supposed to live the last 2 weeks as if it was my last and then wake up on 1st and say ok! I am thirty and hang up my boots?Am i going to go through some mega hormonal changes and suffer from PTS,Pre Thirty Syndrome?I dont have a clue but i know for sure that when i wake up as a thirty year old,life is gonna be different. Good different or bad different,that i have to figure out. But its gonna be a huge leap, a leap that i will be forced to take. Whether i take it happily or not,will chart the course for da next ten years. I know a lot of people will roll their eyes and tell me that it doesnt matter, but guess what- they are not the ones going through this. We shall talk to them when they are at this brink. But i guess its gonna be nice thinkin about the last ten years. When i was growing up. Last ten years have been eventful to say the least. I have learnt a lot, sometimes unwillingly.I graduated, worked in a call center for 1. 5 years, did my mba, joined advertising, in between all that i fell in love and dated him for nearly 6 years,moved from hyderabad to mumbai to bangalore and back to mumbai, got married, got divorced, stayed alone, dated some of the good and not so good men, partied like crazy, made a lot of new friends, lost a few old ones, held on to some of my old buddies, fell into love, lust, infatuation, attraction, got promoted at work, woke up to some mornings with new hope, woke up to rest of them in despair, sailed through some months, dragged through the others - in a nutshell, i learnt to live.I realise that i wont trade my last ten years for anything. All i hope is that the next ten teaches me more. Yeah, i hope im happy. I dont mind the wrinkles, painful knee joints when i run around too much, the hangovers after a night out, the pangs of jealousy when i look at twenty somethings.. I hope i am happy and excited like a teenager.I hope that i dont grow old in my head. I also know that with age comes more responsibility. A sudden need to plan my life a little better. A need to start saving. To chalk out better plans like buying a house, a car rather than planning to spend a weekend in Goa. But thats the fun of life. I am gonna make a wish list for the next ten years. And break it up year wise. I guess thats gonna be my ten year strategy. And in between all that, i am gonna live. So when i am 39 and have two weeks to go to turn 40, i can happily say that i lived my life with no regrets. Ok. So if its a brand new beginning, i am ready to go.:)

Whats Wrong?

I am blogging after 4 years. Tried and failed earlier, every time i opened a page, I would blank out. Later, I graduated to a line and a half but never managed to complete the post. Then why today, why now?..Or should I say what's wrong?..Maybe its everything thats happening these days.. I realised that I need to vent. No, not about my insane working hours, my spoilt client who never appreciates anything, the 4.5 hours of travelling everyday - Those things kill me at the end of the day.I do all that for a measely salary which gets over before the 10th of every month.But I still wake up every morning and drag myself to work..I don’t need to blog for that; my cigarettes are doing a fine job.
So, what's wrong?..Last night I cried! No, last night wasn’t any worse than the night before, but I bawled. I always thought that weak people cry. And i never took myself to be weak. Never. But somehow I felt lonely, super lonely. I had always thought that crying has its perks. Instant attention, post crying lightness, gifts, make up sex.. But thats when you cry in front of someone (special I guess, women tend to believe that for make-up sex). When you cry alone, you come out of the room with a red face, embarrassed as hell, angry with yourself and later murderous when people pester you for reasons. Somehow people don’t get the simple fact that if you are crying alone, you don’t want them to know. Duh!. I also realized that if you are single crying isn’t a great therapy. You are single, you sit in your balcony all alone, think about all the good old times and to make matters worse your ex-favourite song is playing somewhere and then something happens...You realize that you have started crying. Then you are upset, and later tired and fall off to sleep..Alone. So the net result is that you aren’t getting a shoulder. No one is around, you hate bothering your friends coz your upset.. So technically at that moment no one cares. So why cry at all. Yeah..hmm..ummm..Right..
If you pontificate, you know that single life is not bad at all. Like all your other fteijnds in a relationship you won’t be happy now and sad later. Isn’t that great? You know that if you are going to be with someone, there will be the initial euphoria which will eventually die later. Then the craving for that someone will start. The empty bed will bother you. You will want his good night hug and his good morning smile. And you won’t get it. That’s bad, right? On the brighter side, when you are alone, you sleep alone and wake up alone. You wish yourself goodnight and flash yourself that good morning smile.
But guess what the good news is that it will not change. Here, you are not depending on some half-witted moron to make or break your day. Coz it’s you, we’re talking about. Just you.
So, the choice will always be yours – either you cry and sigh over your single state or be happy and live it. You know its imperfect, it’s kind of crazy, it’s depressing and very lonely at times – but it’s your life.