137 - Devil or the deep blue sea?

I'd choose the deep blue sea. Atleast it looks tranquil and beautiful. Whatay way to go I say! Plus there is hope. I swim. So there is a sliver of hope that maybe, I may find an odd boat somewhere or an island before I tire and die in the water. Or be eaten away by the sharks.

Is this choosing the best in whatever situation you are in? Is this being positive? What if I come up with another option? Maybe a desert? In the hope I'd find an oasis???

Thinking. Thinking. I need options. Lots of them. But not to help me choose. The options to help me live. 2017 so far has been a bit irate to me. Again, I am hoping its' just the beginning of the year. Like starting trouble.

I am officially looking for a job. A better career path. At work, it is just the devil. No deep blue sea option. Infact there is no option. :-) The devil is also off limits.

That's when I say- What else? It is neither the devil nor the deep blue sea. It's nothing. Nada. Zilch. What next? What next? 

136 - Dearest sweetheart... You are mine.

Dearest SH,

Where do I start this letter? Is there a way where I can even define what we are? Or who or how? When or where? Maybe not counting some blessings in this world is a better state to be in. The intention to write was only to let the world know about this relationship between you and me. It is not for a mark of approval. But it is a sign to all those people who think this kind of love is not possible or think we can't exist.  We did. And how...

While I know you are someone who will refuse to express even if your life depended on it, I hope you will agree within yourself when you ever understand my sentiment. This is not to rat out on you. Or show you off to the world. This is about my love for you. And our special relationship.

The first time I saw you.... (sigh! :-) ), there was the proverbial music in the background. I heard violins and cellos doing a "game of thrones" in my head. I was lost in the moment. I just lost. I was bowled. Is that what they call love at first sight? Some said you were big, and some said you were small. Some told me how sexy you looked (and I agreed) and some said how racy you were (which I know now). Some told me you were snobbish and old class and some said you were fake. But it didn't matter to me what some and others said. In my eyes... In my eyes darling you were the sexiest and the most beautiful being in this universe. Despite all your flaws (and you do have a few- Cmon baby, dont we all???).

The more I saw you, the less I heard about you from 'some'. I gradually stopped hanging out with my friends. The moments where we needed to separate- were the most painful moments. But there was a tiny ray of hope. There was hope that someday, we will be with each other. The fear of seen or caught by someone was strong. We kept to dark alleys. We found better hiding places to escape the policia. And so far we managed it well.

But baby, I have to tell you... The fist time I touched you.... (fanning. fanning...). :-) What can I say? My body was a war zone. I needed to touch you once more. And once more. And more. Some more. Oh- please some more. Here. And there. Everywhere. We couldnt get enough of each other. One fine day I managed to get all the monies in this world to make you mine.

Your keeper. Your foul keeper. Your bad, bad, wily guardian. He and I- we bargained so ruthlessly over you. How can I make it up to you my dearest? It was not my intention to insult you, but I needed to make the best out of what I had. I only had so much with me, but he had SO MUCH with him. He had you. And finally, when I could make you mine, honey we lived in sin. I couldnt stop touching you. There was no going back. I finally rode you. The moments when we mingled in sweat and dust and grime and held on to each other- had to be the most amazing moments in this wonderful life.

What else could I ask for? Was this gratification? (you think?) Or was it satisfaction? It was neither. It was complete. The moment... It was complete. And now.. On a day like today, when we finally announced it to this big world out here that you are mine, on this day, we are also legally connected. Yes baby, we are registered. And we now no longer need to run from this Policia. Or keep to the alleys unless we want to. Our relationship is now legal. We are not sinning honey.

I paused. I stumbled when they gave you a name. They said it was "MH0XXXXXXXX". I was annoyed. It felt so impersonal. You are not some random bike to be given such a name. You were my "Raheja chi Rani". You are my red, shiny, sexy, sassy, saucy, saarcy Vespa. My queen.


L
D.

136 - Betting and getting

Many winters ago, when I was back to being a full time student, I was this stuck up, FOB, conservative (bordering judgmental) desi who would scrunch up her nose at the sight of women smoking (oh yea! with all my equalist theories now...). Who has never had women friends before who would drink. Or had any friends before anyway who danced when they were happy. I had a lot of friends who used to learn Bharatanatyam, but I am sure that doesnt count in the coolness quotient. :-)

So here I was- first time with the whole class- out at a pub. It was a class party. There was a ManU Vs Chelsea match going on. People were drinking, laughing and dancing. And me.... I was struggling with a stupid dress I wore thinking it was "pub wear". The more comfy me today would have been happier with a pair of jeans. I looked out of place and I looked like I could do with a truck load of fibre. :-) Constipated is the only word that comes to my mind now.

Yea- We played truth and dare. I was the timid person who did neither. By then I picked an OJ on the rocks (and nothing else in it...) and settled next to the DJ. Actually no DJ. I just loved the way the sentence rhymed just now. :-) I just sat next to the projector. I could veer away from the crowd and got my bolt hole. So near, so far.

I was intrigued with football. I started cheering with the crowd for ManU. Maybe the red attracted me. It was my first match where I was actively participating in the play. I was curious. I was biting my tiny nails almost. And in the next few minutes, I was with the crowd who were people like me openly shouting. And cheering. And thumping the tables. That's when I recognized a classmate of mine in the crowd. Another person who switched off from the class and on to the crowd.

He noticed me and we exchanged a shy smile and acknowledgement of the situation. And then he came along and said , "10 quids say Chelsea wins". The challenging side of me woke up. The wild me. The raucous me. The idiotic me. The foolish me. I made a leap and a pounce to the bait. "here you go, 10 quids, but remember 20 will be mine when you see ManU wins and takes the pants of your C"..

I lost 10 quids the day. But who cares?? The loss came in with a lot of fun. Exhilaration. Excitement. Rush. I paid a price. I was most happy paying that price. It was worth everything and more. It taught me to bet. On life. And it taught me to be ok to lose. In life.

I would still bet. Maybe not on ManU. :-) BUT.