Big B

Everybody has some assets to preserve & some to display. But what do I have. These big B. No I am not talking about Amitabh. I am talking about a pair of beefy, fatty pounds of flesh which constitute my behind. Its no shame to have big butts, but its nothing short of embarrassment either. I have had these pair of huge footballs since birth & have grown up with them. My growth was natural & synchronous with my age; but these twins actually outgrew my body, and now really look 'outstanding'.

Well I don't have anything personally against them; after all they are parts of my body only. But you know how I envy others, when I see small children bathing in the open, I am full of rage. They are all nude & have taut, fatless hips. But my pair of globes are totally different. They fill up my hand when I try to hold them & form a half moon shape outline, when I see them in the mirror.

It is because of these twin masterpieces that I have not been able to do many things naturally. I could never run properly, for then they would dangle & form a pendulum like oscillation. I cannot even sit properly in a chair, for then the extra fat in them would smudge & hurt the bones. I could never wear tight clothes or jeans, for then my J Lo like figure would emerge. It always were a somewhat lose jeans with T shirt hanging out.

I know I am not alone in this league. I have some prominent club members like Benazir Bhutto, Chandan Mitra, Roger Binny, Gauri Karnik & of course, world famous J Lo. They are all famous & known, but all of them (except perhaps the last one) try to hide their twin towers in the curtain of their clothes.

I guess I should no more be ashamed of them & should display my twins with pride & fun. But sometimes seeing the stares of others makes me nervous. In college, a notorious group of girls always used to wait for me to enter the college gate & have their morning view followed by lewd comments kya mast mote hain; dabaane to de zaraa. Seeing me approach, everyone wanted to have a side glimpse of me. But then I grew smart & got a wardrobe of somewhat lose clothes.

I am now used to having them big & have now learnt to live with them. Every morning first thing in bed I check my prized possessions, if they have retained their shape or have been punctured. But if given a chance I would like to paste them on this blog!!

Why did God create Mondays ?

Another Monday morning & I am getting fucked up in office. Why do Mondays have to be so dreaded & signal return of the routine, rigmarole & dreary workdays? Sigh! Wish the frolic of weekends could continue, I could catch more stuff on TV, read few more blogs, some more Bacardi, ogle more at racy snaps of Neetu Chandra or gratify my voyeuristic soul by peeping into the girls apartment square down below.

Mondays have long been the bane of my life let it be my fun-loving student days or the more serious work life. Mondays were time for tests, assignments, new projects etc during school days; only exciting part being if someone had any adventures to share. Otherwise it was always that sleepy eye yearning for a few more minutes on the bed that made its way reluctantly to the school assembly. Needless to say the rest of the day was also spent half-asleep in fond remembrance of the weekend gone by.

Fast forward to my present day life and not much has changed, if only Mondays have become more sinister. This morning I got up early, having slept at my leisure time, cursing why my stupid office has to open so early, maybe even before the hen cuckoos.

Morning shower did help to drive away some sleep, but the shave on the hard stubble was so unwelcome. Then the drive through those pot-holed roads dressed in formal attire to reach office on time, opening my system only to find weekend junk mails to be cleared, new hires coming on board to be addressed, right information to be passed on to boss before he leaves for meeting, project updates………….banal list could go on

Wish Mondays were something like this :-

*Get up at your sweet time as office will open at noon only. Maybe visit the gym to get in shape before starting work
*Alter dress code for office. Wear what you like, sometimes encourage beach ware as well.
*Share movie reviews with everyone around including actress reviews
*Have a hearty beer & a snack in the afternoon only to head for sports lounge in the evening
*Promote inter-personal relations amongst workforce. Those interested can mingle around & get to know each other better at the nearby bar
*Take care of employees’ morale & motivation, give free passes to belly dance resorts

I know much of this is utopian but can at least wish for a better start to the week. But all this bother me with one query, if everyone detests the so much, why did God create Mondays after all?

Do you have balls?

When asked this first time, didn’t know what it actually meant or rather connoted. Only later did I realize they stood for mere do anmol ratan. But I still cannot fathom as to why my two lovely spheres have been used as synonyms for guts, courage or dare. Or rather is it only males who are asked for their balls, females are excused or only meant to play with others’ balls.

Number of times in my life I have been asked this million dollar question, each time I have come second to the challenge but actually managed to save my cuties from getting crushed. First it was in school, where there was this chick who was actually hot with no inhibitions & very much open to adventures of all kinds & naturally whom everyone eyed; only the one man enough or with balls could get her. Many times my seniors brought her to hostel & left later leaving behind stained bed sheets. Once in a school event she came down to juniors for new tastes & ventures with a lifted skirt & the slogan jiski gaand main dam hain andar ghoosa ke bataa. Thankfully I never ventured for her & saved my prized assets

One incident which actually stands out in my memory when my balls were actually challenged would have been when I was fresh in college & undergoing the dreaded ragging. Now this time balls literally meant my adorable twins. I was being ragged by a gang of girls & asked to suck a condom. While in the act was egged on from somewhere behind abbey tatte to choos. I was too stunned by this female poetry but never allowed to look anywhere lest the condom slips out

Recently my friend confessed to me that his close & dear female friend had asked to see his male organ. Now my friend did not know how to douse the curiosity of his dear accomplice & risk showing a non-erect thing, when all girls fed on porn imagine only hard & strong rods, & may smirk at his decent possession. Upon seeing his reluctance the girl thought he did not have balls. Now c’mon she never asked to see the balls, it’s only an accessory to the main thing that she wanted to view. Why blame the poor, innocent balls

So next time I am up something, please spare my blameless balls. Also if anyone is curious to know if I have balls, sure I do, not one but two

Female alert

Females are known to be more alert than males with a strong sixth sense present even when no action is visible. Off late I have observed that females are all the more alert to their own species & their obvious femininity, noticing any advances & intentions with sublime ease. Sample this

* If you are with a female colleague & another hot female crosses by, chances are your female friend will notice your expressions discreetly & any enticement noticed will form a part of chick lit gossip later.

* If you are hanging in smoking area with your fag, and another chick comes up from somewhere & lights up; your chatting female accomplice will lose no time in checking from her eye corners whether you are eyeing the smoking, swinging chick

*Never stare a female at wrong places, that too a female who is well endowed. She will come to know too quickly & will try to hide her twin peaks, although obviously not making it too evident.

* Many times you may not know if there is an expression of interest coming from another female, for females are known to drop hidden hints & not flirt bluntly & openly like stupid men. If you happen to miss any of those hints do not worry, your good old friend will notice them too easily & if she is really your golden-hearted pal, also tell you later on.

* In the gym I have observed girls on the adjacent treadmill pull down sweaty T-shirts to cover cleavage (& uncover when no one except myself is around!!) even on the slightest hint of turn of my neck, never matter what speed the treadmill is running

* Any time you enter a new place, let it be a lift, corridor or bar; bet my life, fairer sex will check you out much, much before than you can actually begin feasting your eyes.

I am sure both females & males reading this will relate to this & chuckle silently but for different reasons altogether

Ennui eternal

Off late life seems to have entered into a rut. The same mundane schedule I follow day in day out seems as if all excitement has receded with the recession. I mean it’s the same stupid fucking things I do everyday, it seems this mechanized existence will continue for eternity. Get up early in morning; ward off remaining sleep as I am not entitled to my share of languor; brush, shave, bathe, dress up; drive through pothole-filled roads; dreary time pass in office till evening; off to gym; yoga & newspaper in evening; dinner followed by WWW surfing, catch some titillating stuff, if available; doze off . But life was not like this always…

Life in school : getting up was always a pain, and that too when had to dress up in school uniform, drink milk & dash off to be on time, though shaving initially was a show-off as only a few did it. School was itself divided into periods (not the female type), and looking back the workload was enormous. Back home again tuitions & tests, as if the board exams were end of the world. Sometimes sneak off to friend’s place, a favorite adda for catching some porn which initially did seem exciting. If in hostel, then sometimes after prep & sports time, make-out sessions thrown in with dorm mates to deal with those raging puberty hormones. A select few biharis also visited the nearby brothels.

Once in school, all boys decided to bunk & catch the new release ‘Kama sutra’ at nearby hall. During interval spotted few familiar faces, discovered all girls too were catching the morning show & enjoying Vatsayana’s historic epic.

Life in college: this is how life should always be – totally bindaas. Living & enjoying present while chasing the dream deferred. DU had a catchy crowd, an amalgamation of all kinds known & unknown. Only a couple of classes & then off to favorite hangouts -canteen, basketball courts, Kamla Nagar, banta walla, sutta wala…mostly girls picked up smoking in college, unlike boys who started much earlier. If I start recounting memorable college events, perhaps will have to start a separate blog, with all laila-majnu stories, encounters, daaru, ragging, exams, strip acts thrown in.

Don’t know where life changed down the line, where all masti & mazaa disappeared

Oh…that dirty flab

This morning I went into the toilet in office & checked my image first front view & then side view. The former looked good (as always!) but the latter was a real fucking alarm. I have been putting on oodles of stinking flab & it shows unashamedly on my body. I had quit working out in November & foolishly did not resume when winters had subsided. Now at times I resemble a distant cousin of Oblix with that paunch bulging out & threatening to grow even bigger if not nipped right now.

I now realize dirty fat does not come unannounced but does emit a few signals before the final assault, which one ignores at own peril. You know you have been putting on when …

1) Never want to sit in front of mirror, and even if you do, first reaction is a gasp & tuck-in

2) Try to avoid your own silhouette forming, lest you observe a convex surface

3) Clothes, especially trousers, which were a perfect fit earlier now tighten around the lovely round butts & squeeze around the waist

4) Use of a belt is not required many times. Instead you try to have more punches & holes to hold the increased width

5) While doing yoga & meditation, if you happen to hold the waist with hands, the grab of the palm increases with both hands filled in with the soft, puppy stuff.

6) If you happen to pass through the front door mirror & catch your face’s reflection, you wonder whose chubby cheeks they are

7) Exercises & asanas, done easily earlier now become cumbersome & the puppy fat at waist starts to spill out at many postures

8) A feeling of disbelief engulfs if you happen to visit a clothes stores. It happened with me in Jammu recently since my waist had enhanced a good deal & I was left dumbfounded upon seeing my new measurement

9) People start recognizing your like for sweets & ice-creams, till you realize what is being actually commented upon

If anybody knows personal fitness trainer of Kareena Kapoor do let me know. And please do not pass any greasy, creamy recipes

Saturday Night Fever

On Saturday night my team had organized a party at a nearby pub called Buzz in DLF City Center. Off late this joint has become a preferred haunt for our team outings, with its apt décor & crowd which provides the right ambience for a decent night out. I was the first one to arrive by a long stretch, reaching the venue an hour ahead of others to order liquor during happy hours. Since there was no one around, soon after placing liquor order I took a round of the mall in search of my packet of cigarettes. Surprisingly there were no Silk Cuts available around & for a moment I thought will have to make do with something else. I am not a great fan of Wills Classic or India Kings, and find Wills Menthol to be more of a toffee while Navy Cut is too rough. Thankfully my preferred smooth Silk Cut was available at a nearby outlet & I was spared the agony of compromise.

Coincidentally all invited arrived at same instance, though they were coming from different parts of Delhi & Gurgaon. The mood took sometime to build up as the crowd starts gathering only around midnight on Saturdays, unlike Fridays when Buzz is actually buzzing from start. Buzz has some nice drinks on offer though I haven’t tried any of their cocktails. Also their stock of whisky is somewhat limited with only Blender’s Pride available most times. I don’t know why only this whisky is found everywhere while Signature or Antiquity is never available, though they are much smoother. I went for my old favorite Bacardi Reserva, which did taste good with a dash of lime. I guess Bacardi is increasingly becoming staple drink of Gurgaon, across both genders.

Slowly the crowd starting pouring in, which did have some interesting elements. There was a chick in short skirts, with long desirable pair of legs on display. Another came with her troop of boyfriends in tow, wearing sleeveless n backless brown tank top. She did have a nice cleavage which was uninhibitedly on display & a silky skin texture; and smoking non-stop. A short female in bright red handkerchief (that’s what it seemed, too short to be called a top) was dancing & blowing smoke nearby, with free kisses flowing to all her friends.

When the dance floor had filled to its hilt, the air was thick with smoke & my drinking was showing some effects, I decided to visit the loo which was across the congested dance floor. Outside the loo a couple was in tight embrace & slowly started smooching. Seeing them another one nearby did not waste time & they too began. When I came out of the loo I noticed the brown top gal having her boobs touched & felt at a corner, first by one guy & after he left a nearby replacement took his place immediately.

Meanwhile my group too was having its share of blissful fun with few totally sloshed & going berserk breaking ashtrays & gulping all liquid around. Mercifully the girls were decent & were more focused on dancing leaving drinking for guzzlers like me.

At around 1:30 in night we left the place all happy & gay. I was dropped at my apartment building & immediately dozed off upon hitting the bed.