Bold post ahead

I want you to make love to me.
Nibble over the soft flesh and leave blue black marks on the neck as reminders of the night. In the morning, as I run my fingers over these, cleverly hidden under layers of clothes, I want to smell the night. I want to remember the history that we share.
Run your finger over my navel to the shoulders slowly, leisurely- as if we were getting to know each other, all over again.

Pull back my hair and kiss me fully- let me taste you as you move inside my mouth. Hold me tight as I hold on to the moment.

Remind me of the nights that you waited patiently for me and my body to accept. To open up. To forget. To move on. To forgive!
Remind me of the nights when you held on to me as I woke up shivering and crying. Night after night.

Remind me of the time when we started off our life and built a home for ourselves- with five cartons of books, two cartons of music CDs and cassettes and one television.

Remind me of the excitement when we realized that we can afford one dinner out with our combined anniversary dinner vouchers from work.

Remind me of the time when time was all that we had to ourselves. Remind me of how happy we were!

Let’s start all over again, when we met over the college library steps, almost a decade ago-
I said- “Hi! I am Minal. Would you know where the girl’s hostel …ummm arrr f$%k” as I dig into my bag and dish out a walkman, Lucky Ali and Jagjit Singh cassettes, Mint, Safety pins …but for the letter from the institute with the hostel name on it.
You said solemnly almost morosely - “Hi I am Saurabh. I have been assigned a hostel called Chandni which has three guys and 20 girls in it. Is that the one that you are looking for?”

Just thought I should let you know that

Walking while drunk is not a very good idea.

Walking to the loo, alone- while drunk is definitely avoidable especially since while doing the above mentioned attempt at dignified walking, you are also trying to stop the swaying of the floor, salivating at Some-Arbit-Woman-Walking-in-Front-of-You's gorgeous hair, apologising while you bump into SAWWFY, praying for world peace, fighting global warming.....! So, it is definitely not surprising if you miss to notice the teeny weeny skirt that the woman at the (Right!) washroom door is wearing- well, not your fault for sure-

This CAN be confusing. Even when you are not drunk.Trust me!

Can’t they be a little more descriptive like ......?

....this! I can assure you This I would DEFINITLEY not miss. EVEN while drunk.

Or, even this.We can understand this.

No point here. Just found it funny.

So, as I was saying walking is not a good idea but once you have done the walking and peeing (in the right loo, the one meant for you with the woman wearing a teeny weeny skirt on the door) then once you are back, even talking too doesn’t seem like an intelligent idea.
(Disclaimer: I DID not mean that I cannot do intelligent -talk. In fact I do intelligent-talking all the time. BUT talking while drunk is not an intelligent IDEA. Got it?)

And if you do ignore my advice and start talking then talking about ex-flames is definitely avoidable.

In fact, on second thoughts, (I do a lot of thinking and re-thinking) talking about ex- flames is avoidable even when you are not drunk.

Pink Chaddis continued

Dear God,

I thought I should update and let you know that he DOES mind.

He is exactly not happy about the fact that his delicates are now unrecognizable. Also, that the internet, the Whole Wide World knows the status of his delicates and also that the WWW knew about it before he did.
But, yes I agree with you he should calm down and relook at his grievances and re-prioritize on exactly what is his major grievance. I think you should speak to him one of these days. And while you are at it can you also ask him to switch off the bathroom lights once he is out, and explain to him that the shirt should be kept inside the washing machine and not thrown at the bathroom door, and that he should ask for directions when he is lost and not waste precious recessionary petrol and money on finding his way, ...and that

what? what was that you said? That you are a mere God ..not a Genie? What? Can't hear you.. what was that? That I should enter him in an exchange scheme? ...heloo? helllo? God...? God....? Can you hear me?

Did I loose you? Hello?

Hmpphh- Guess we lost the connection - bad network maybe!

Pink Chaddis

Dear God,

Do you think the husband would mind if I tell the internet that his pink chaddi's have been washed and are being dried at the balcony?

Not that he wears Pink Chaddi's. Obviously, YOU would know. But I thought I should clarify since the internet doesn't. And while we are clearing up facts I think I should also add that as is usual- I am not responsible for whatever led to the Pink Chaddis. Now that I have started with the right tone let's continue with the story.
So, the maid was washing my delicate, colourful garments and she collects all of the Husband's also delicate but not colourful garments, mixes them and then washes them. After a few minutes when I am sitting dreaming on the balcony, I see my colourful delicates being pinned along with the Husband's now colourful delicates.
The maid obviously doesn't realize what a chameleon like colour change of the said delicates might do to the well being of this household but then I cannot blame her she is oblivious to so many things like a gas leaking - a milk spilling over-a thick smoke billowing from the microwave- ....you get the picture -right? so, she is really not concerned but, I am!

So, do you think that he would really mind? Do you think he would get a little sentimental seeing our delicates in the same shade of pinks and browns? Would he see the bigger picture and maybe realize that this is a sign from God, yes- from you that we were meant to be together, losing ourselves in each other and merge into the same shade of pinks and browns?

Monday Morning Blues

‘I swear Saurabh! This morning on my way to work, I was getting my tyres checked up for air at the petrol pump and there was this white cow standing right next to the car and staring at me while munching- I don’t know what; in all probability it should be grass but I cannot swear on that. So, it kept on standing there and kept on staring at me and kept on munching on..whatever and it felt as if it was warning me and saying slowly and ominously-
'M I N A L DO NOT GO TO THE OFFICE. M I N A L D O N O T G O T O T H E O F F I C E. M I N A L . M M I I I N N N A L L L '
……………..
'Sigh'
……..
Pause.

A bigger (?), longer (?)- (whatever!) but definitely a more expressive -'SIGH!'
..

Pause.

‘Sigh. I wish I would’ve had listened to him!’

Lizzy Tizzy revisited

'Minal are you awake? Minal- MINAL?'

‘HELP. SALSA IS KILLING ME.’ Is what I say when I am woken up at four in the morning.
Old readers of the blog; pompous-eh? Don’t you know me well enough by now to not ask WTF? And new readers, we would come to know each other …gradually. I am a little mysterious that ways.

'Shhh SAURABH IT IS FOUR IN THE MORNING.

SAURABH IT IS FOUR IN THE MORNING.

REPEAT.

REPEAT.

SAURABH IT IS FOUR IN THE MORNING.’ Is what I scream hysterically when, you guessed it right, when I realize that it is four in the morning. I am not much of a morning person.

'Yeah but can you get up? There is a lizard behind the shoe rack.'

'SAURABH it is FOUR in the morning.'

'MINAL I KNOW. BUT THE LIZARD DOESN’T. Can you please shoo it away from the rack. I have to catch a flight.'

Now, people who know the husband would tell you that he is not a girl and they would definitely vouch for the fact that he is DEFINITELY not a nineteen year old girl. In fact he is quite a Man.Of.Steel except as mentioned earlier on this blog- except when he is around Lizards.
As for me, I - as the people who know us would tell you, I am quite smart and I know when it is worth-it to get out of bed at four in the morning.

'While I was picking up this broom from the bathroom I realized that we are falling short of floor cleaners and we also need to do Grocery shopping- You are back on Saturday- Right?

'Yes. Okay. Will do.'

'Where is it? There behind my Pink Adidas shoes? Do you know I don’t have any yellow shoes?'

'Okay. Will get.'

'There it goes- behind those wires- have we paid our electricity bills?’

' EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE AWWWWWWW HRRRRRRRRRRRRRR' is what he screamed mentally.

'No. Will do.' is what the Man.of.Steel answered.

'YIPPEEE LLAHA AHA AHA hruk hruk HRUK' is what my heart sang.

'Out of the door finally!' is what I said.

Need some prayers

'Minal are you sleeping? What? Why are you crying? Hey!'

'I dreamt of R, our friend and her child- her unborn child- the one whom they lost a few weeks before her due date. Why is life so unfair Saurabh? R and N- her husband are the most amazing people. They would have had never harmed anyone ever. How can this happen to them? You do know that I visit the temple everyday not that I am religious, but some times I just need to thank whoever it is for all that I have, sometimes I pray for you, our parents, my brothers and sometimes, like today- I am angry. Someone up there is scripting our life stories and someone has gone terribly wrong somewhere. As my forehead touched the cool marble floor of the temple- I cried, for R and her unborn child.'

'Hey Wifey. Am sure there is a bigger plan in place. They are lovely people and they would get over this phase. Right now it might seem difficult but then when you step back and look at this in perspective, there is always a reason behind it all- and, haven’t you always said that N and R are so strong? They would tide over this. They would have another child- a lovely family, later. Maybe right now was just not the right time for them.'

'No you do not understand Saurabh. It is never about another child. It is about this one, the first one- the one that they would have had seen a photograph of, waving back at them from the womb. The one that they would have had felt for the very first time, kicking inside her. The one that they would have had dreamt of. How can you ever get to feel or share the pain of someone who has gone through the entire process, all the pain of the delivery- for hours, knowing full well that there is no one waiting at the end of this trauma?' And I cried uncontrollably. Husband gathered me in his arms and rocked me slowly without saying a word. Quietly!

I pray for you N- I wish that you hold R in a tight hug and wash away her emptiness. I wish you the strength to do so. I pray for the two of you and wish that my prayers can somehow help you lessen the pain.

So should you too- please?

Dear God

Do you think, which am sure you do a lot, but do you really think- not like thinking –thinking but like you know a ....general opinion- so, do you think that once the husband returns after a week of travelling, he would remember that he had hidden some rum- chocolates, you know the kinds which are my favourit-est in the farthest corner of the fridge, which I accidentally found out today and which are like no more there- like, not in there- in the farthest corner of the fridge?