Monday, February 16, 2009
The best thing of Gurgaon is the girls.
From great boobs to big asses they have everything!
And they love to show off.
Minis, Macros, Capris, Skirts, Sarees(blouse to be noted)are all totally and truly uncensored.
And one needs to really have a cool head to work among such a infectious climate.
In our office also the same infection spreaded. In the walls posters like ‘Begin the day with a smile’ , ‘Be Happy Work Happy’ e.t.c are there..I thought once to add another called ‘Its all about control!’
I would like to list here some hotties, I am not such a brilliant writer to give a description but anyway I would try for welfare of the readers:
Aarti: Wears sarree mainly shifon and silk and tends to cover only those parts which shouldn’t be covered and keeps open the parts which really need to be covered.
Precaution : Try not to look at her.
Payel : Wears jeans(as tight as possible) and short kurtas in a way so that big asses are prominent.
Precaution : Think of Delivery date of Project, buddy!
Ruchi : Married lady with a fabulous body! Neeraj thus have a crush on her.
Precaution : Her sindoor.
Gunjan : Experiment with dresses and have a great habit of bending before you as much as she can..just to test your visibility.
Precaution : You look up.
Neha : She is the best! Offers you always her deep deep clevage. She is really daring and love to wear skin-hugging tea-shirt with slogans over her well-shaped boobs as ‘Who have got the biggest mouth!’
Precaution : No precaution available.
And with this hot Neha I met one evening the day before Holi in ‘Om Sweets’.
The shop was totally crowded and I saw her in the queue.
My hindi is miserable so I thought to skip her but she called me.
I saw she was buying sweets . After that we came outside. ‘You stay nearby?’
I nodded, ‘Ya in Sector 31.’ ‘You?’
She smiled. ‘I stay in Sector 30’.
‘You came so far?’ ‘Yes, this is the best sweet shop of Gurgaon..so I have to?’
‘Have you ever been to Kolkata ?’ I asked her.
‘No, she replied. ‘But I would love to..I heard it is a great city!’
I smiled. ‘It is’.
The whole area is greatly decorated. Lights glowing everywhere. The mood is festive here.
Neha is looking really beautiful today. She is wearing a simple blue salwar today with white dupatta. Her hair scattered in wind. She is looking simple. And thus beautiful.
‘I want to give you something’, she said and going towards a temporary road-stall buy a packet of abir and gave it to me. She looked and said ‘It is a custom that when ever you met some new friend in Holi you should give him a small gift.’
‘That’s great!’ I gave her also a packet of abir.
And then before she got up in a rickshaw she said to me smiling, ‘Its nice to get you as friend!’
I smiled and said , ‘Its great to be friends!’
Then Neha went away.
Today I really liked the girl.
I earlier thought her as cheap and just a typical Delhi girl. But yesterday Abhijit my friend who came from Nainital said me that Neha is living a miserable life..her mother totally bed-ridden due to arthritis and she have a small brother and the responsibilities of the whole family have to bear by Neha. This really increased my respect for her. It is a real tough task to smile always by submerging her worries. Can anyone ever think that Neha have such a worry behind all her glamour. And another thing she never exposed her sadness to anyone. For that reason I like her now. She had her own prestige.
And I would love to be her friend.
In night I saw Neeraj came to me and shook my hand and said ‘Congrats!’
‘For what!’ ‘Dear, you lost your virginity today!’
‘Who told you I am a virgin!’ ‘Anyway but today you lost it in Gurgaon!’
‘How?’ ‘Neha havn’t done anything with you?’
‘Oh come on..we are just friends..and you know that I have girlfriend!’ ‘So what idiot! Tell me how is she?’
‘Oh! She is great!’I smiled. ‘Can fuck you well!’
‘Really innovative and seductive she is!’ Neeraj stopped.
I know that a Mulla can run upto a mosque. After a while he said again , ‘You are a smart guy.’
‘Why?’ ‘Got a Bengali girl! You know that fish and mustard oil makes Bengali lady super hot!
And that’s why they are so responsive in bed!’ I said him , ‘Why havn’t you tried it dear?’
‘Who told I havn’t? Its just that I never got hold of the Bengali language!’
At that moment my mobile rang. Its her. Neeraj while moving away said smiling.. ‘Are yaar, tujhe to bimari lag gaya, jab bhi dekhu phone karta rahta hai..Doctor dikha le…’
This is life in Gurgaon.
A bit of loneliness. A bit of work.
A bit of pain.
But a lot of entertainment.
And then a wait for the call.
As night comes it is just this call for which I wait.
The call from her.
To whom in night I can surrender myself completely.
Now the million dollar question is how still I manage to get so romantic after crossing all limits of Naughtyness?
How? Well don’t be a stupid! For that you have to first fall in Love!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Let a storm strike
the roots of this wretched old earth..
Let the words fly..
The letters fly..
The tunes fly..
The gains fly
The pains fly..
The desires fly..
The rhythm fly..
The dreams fly..
Let the earth slowly move towards destruction..
It is getting naked..naked
I will just..
Kiss your lips, my beautiful lady
As it is through them
The first drop of rain
Of a new earth
Let me get wet..wet..wet..!
Friday, February 6, 2009
I was waiting for the last bus.
Road is empty, only some street dogs running, some pedestrians walking silently, a shopkeeper closing his shop, one or two beggar trying to sleep in wretched corner of a broken house. It was almost twelve in the morning.
A chilled wind is blowing. It is February but still wind has the last bite of winter before the spring arrives.
Rashbehari, a busy junction of Kolkata now quietly beginning to get silent. A thin layer of dew slowly making the silver tram-lines wet..thus the silver lines sometimes shining.
And at that moment I found the Balloonwalah coming.
His tall, thin figure with bunch of balloons held by string in his hand.
He came towards me and smiled and said, ‘ Akta Balloon Babu?’(Will I take a balloon?)
I often take balloon from him not only because I like the smile of the simple man seeing a balloon sold but also that to give my small six years old nephew ‘Poppye’ a balloon each morning when he gets awake from sleep.
But today I was in no mood of buying a ballon. As today was Poppye’s birthday and I told this man to bring me twelve balloons to me yesterday night so that I can gift it to Poppye this very morning to make it special.
But yesterday only the Balloonwalah did not came. And thus I lost the chance to wish Poppye today with those balloons and see his priceless heavenly smile!
‘Babu aj balloon neben na?’ (Babu, no more balloon today?)
‘No, I said, ‘Why didn’t you came yesterday? I told you to bring a dozen balloon for me..why?’
The person looked at my eyes.
My irritation came back. I said in local dialect ‘You destroyed all my plans!’
The balloonwalah took two balloons in his hand and said ‘Take these two Babu!’
I nodded. No, I am not going to take any one.
‘Why you didn’t came yesterday?’
The balloonwalah looked again and then said softly..as if in a dearth of searching words,
‘Kal mera beta mar gaya Babu!’
(‘Yesterday my son died babu!’)
At that moment the last bus came and stopped in front.
I stepped up.
The bus started to move.
I have now myself lost all the words.
Instead I turned.
Through the empty, silent, dark night of Rasbehari I saw the tall, thin Balloonwalah walking slowly with heaps of red balloons in his hand.
I found that he is at this very moment not only a Balloonwalah.
But a person, a father who throughout his life would go on selling balloons to thousands of kids each day but none again to his dead son.
The Balloonwalah walked on.