The best feeling in the world is proving someone wrong. And it’s almost orgasmic if it’s done by action and not by words. Not standing in front of the person and gesturing madly but gently fucking them over for being a bitch to you. Telling them they were wrong and how. How that when they sat there, all haughty and nauseously smarty, they had the upper hand and now I have turned that around. I can sit here and smirk because I made it to where you didn’t think I would. That you read me all wrong. That I wasn’t stupid and I knew that, I just wanted you to know so you can wallow in self pity.
On 23rd November 2005, I was sat down in college and mercilessly criticized for wanting to be in advertising. I didn’t know enough about it. I couldn’t think advertising. I didn’t know a good ad from a bad one. Three people sat down in front of me pulling my confidence down to my ankles, shredding my esteem to bits and gloating, a right granted to them by the sheer merit of position.
Even then, when I wasn’t so worldly, I knew they were petty. What I didn’t know was the darkness of the human heart. I didn’t think it was possible for people in power to misuse it with such alarming lack of conscience. To make people feel like shit because you can. To use such hurtful and cruel words only to indulge in the joy of another person’s misery.
It was half an hour and I know each moment with vivid clarity. Where each one was seated, their faces, their false disappointment in me, their small leap in the heart as I failed. What they said, what they didn’t. What was implied. An insult still sits strong in my heart. One of them said, “You are doing this for a lark. Not taking this seriously. You are never going anywhere.”
It’s 23rd November 2010. I am doing a job I like, I have friends I love, I have a career and I am standing on my own feet. I am happy.
To you I have to say, HA!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
Sunday, November 14, 2010
My one baby step, maybe a giant step for womankind?
I have always been a radical one. A revolutionary is my own way. Rebellious by my very nature. Not taking things as they come, but hunting, pursuing, persuading to get things my way. With school, with work, with even love, I have thwarted all norms and done what I have wanted. The way I have wanted it. Actually, especially in love. I have never been the kind to wait around for a man to make the move. If I liked him, I would make it obvious. Make sure he knew. Subtle hints, fleeting touches, leading smiles. Any guy with half a brain would catch on. Most have, thinking this would be a purely physical thing. And then after we have lusted enough, invariably, we have loved. Not the perfect start to a relationship but it’s a start. Yes, its immodest but I can mostly certainly claim the men fell in love with me after. And me with them.
And the rocky at first but crazy fun later has been a pattern with each relationship. Then, some have fallen out of love with me and at other times, I thought it wasn’t meant to be. But it’s when I have been a little reluctant to give in, a little unwilling to commit, a little wary of the man, that he’s pursued me relentlessly. He has worked harder to make it work. Way harder to keep me happy. When he’s given his soul to make the relationship his priority. To put it in a candy floss adjective, my relationships have worked best when I have been treated like a princess.
A lot of them have fizzled out for various reasons. Distance, falling out of love, or even plain boredom. But the most treasured ones have fallen apart when I fell completely in love. When I wanted him more than he wanted me. When I have wanted it to work so bad, I pushed the limits of my patience and took a lot of shit from him. Let him behave badly and let him get away with it. Let my ego, pride and my esteem hurt. Then, when my last relationship ended, it dawned on me. It was never going to work. Not this way, anyway.
I was fighting with nature. And while protesting and digging my heels in the ground worked for all things man made, nature just simply waited till I struggled, went limp with exhaustion, picked me up like a fly and firmly but surely put me back in place. I was told (atleast it felt like telling) in no uncertain terms that this would not work. Not with relationships.
Nature intended for the men to chase, to be competitive and to work to get a goal. Nature also intended for the women to be perched high on a pedestal and look down at her man, but to never help him climb up, not hurt his ego like that. And if he liked her enough, there isn’t a man on this planet who would not work down to his bone to claim his fair maiden. And no matter how hard and how fast we march ahead, I think these roles were not meant to be messed with. We women could burn bras and fight for literacy and against infanticide and we should, but no matter how many revolutions we inspire, we will come home and wonder if he will call. We could bravely venture into territories no woman has gone before, but we still stare at the mirror hoping he will like what he sees.
We are awesome, mind you and I am not saying otherwise. And I am not also regressing and saying people should be confined to gender specific roles. No, that would be archaic on my part. I still think we should do, wear, read and talk about what makes us happy and confident. We should rush past glass ceilings, demand to be paid equally and redefine boundaries in the workplace and life. But in a relationship, men should take the lead. Here, we women should stop thinking like the 21st woman of today and go back to being the fragile flower men have to take care of. And fragile flower does not mean that we change ourselves to being whimpering lasses. It means we revel in our roles as women and let the men do all the work. We will still talk politics, business and news, but we will not pursue him for a relationship. We will keep him excited about meeting us but will not drop everything the minute he calls to make a vague plan. That we will know he’s a booty call and not get all emotional about sleeping with him. In other words, we will be in charge, only we will pretend he is.
I think, it works better that way. Everyone is happier.
A lot of you may think I am being sexist and stupid at the same time. Maybe even jaded. And you maybe itching to throw something at me. You may. This is me thinking out loud. Maybe I did get this all wrong. But you have to admit, there is an iota of possibility that I am right.
And the rocky at first but crazy fun later has been a pattern with each relationship. Then, some have fallen out of love with me and at other times, I thought it wasn’t meant to be. But it’s when I have been a little reluctant to give in, a little unwilling to commit, a little wary of the man, that he’s pursued me relentlessly. He has worked harder to make it work. Way harder to keep me happy. When he’s given his soul to make the relationship his priority. To put it in a candy floss adjective, my relationships have worked best when I have been treated like a princess.
A lot of them have fizzled out for various reasons. Distance, falling out of love, or even plain boredom. But the most treasured ones have fallen apart when I fell completely in love. When I wanted him more than he wanted me. When I have wanted it to work so bad, I pushed the limits of my patience and took a lot of shit from him. Let him behave badly and let him get away with it. Let my ego, pride and my esteem hurt. Then, when my last relationship ended, it dawned on me. It was never going to work. Not this way, anyway.
I was fighting with nature. And while protesting and digging my heels in the ground worked for all things man made, nature just simply waited till I struggled, went limp with exhaustion, picked me up like a fly and firmly but surely put me back in place. I was told (atleast it felt like telling) in no uncertain terms that this would not work. Not with relationships.
Nature intended for the men to chase, to be competitive and to work to get a goal. Nature also intended for the women to be perched high on a pedestal and look down at her man, but to never help him climb up, not hurt his ego like that. And if he liked her enough, there isn’t a man on this planet who would not work down to his bone to claim his fair maiden. And no matter how hard and how fast we march ahead, I think these roles were not meant to be messed with. We women could burn bras and fight for literacy and against infanticide and we should, but no matter how many revolutions we inspire, we will come home and wonder if he will call. We could bravely venture into territories no woman has gone before, but we still stare at the mirror hoping he will like what he sees.
We are awesome, mind you and I am not saying otherwise. And I am not also regressing and saying people should be confined to gender specific roles. No, that would be archaic on my part. I still think we should do, wear, read and talk about what makes us happy and confident. We should rush past glass ceilings, demand to be paid equally and redefine boundaries in the workplace and life. But in a relationship, men should take the lead. Here, we women should stop thinking like the 21st woman of today and go back to being the fragile flower men have to take care of. And fragile flower does not mean that we change ourselves to being whimpering lasses. It means we revel in our roles as women and let the men do all the work. We will still talk politics, business and news, but we will not pursue him for a relationship. We will keep him excited about meeting us but will not drop everything the minute he calls to make a vague plan. That we will know he’s a booty call and not get all emotional about sleeping with him. In other words, we will be in charge, only we will pretend he is.
I think, it works better that way. Everyone is happier.
A lot of you may think I am being sexist and stupid at the same time. Maybe even jaded. And you maybe itching to throw something at me. You may. This is me thinking out loud. Maybe I did get this all wrong. But you have to admit, there is an iota of possibility that I am right.
Monday, October 18, 2010
What it is?
I am the curious sort. I want to know everything. Every gory detail of the story, every bit of the juicy gossip and every nervous twitch of the person involved. But, you know some feelings, actions, erm..i don’t know what they are called , like one word to describe these feelings. And i just cant nail it which ignite my curiosity all over again. So, I am going to put it out there in the universe to know if it’s even normal, these feelings.
1) When you think something is going to be heavy, there is this sort of mental preparation to pick it up. Like a carton or a door. So, you gather the force you think is necessary for the object. And when you do, you suddenly realize the object/door/carton is a lot less heavier/easier to open. That feeling that you used extra force. What it is?
2) When you stand on the top of a building, a really, really tall one and you look down, there is this feeling. A feeling that you are going to fall. What it is?
3) This one is probably called a rush. Or headiness. You know, that first time you kiss someone. The closed eyes, the small smile playing on your lips and then the kiss. A frission of pleasure when you do. A feeling of pleasure that might start somewhere in your lower back and sensations that you feel in your ears, a tickle in your stomach, a feeling that you never want this to stop. What it is? And don’t you dare say love.
4) When you are playing game, hide and seek, the fear, the knotting in the stomach when you know you can be caught. The dread, the anxiousness, the awareness that you might be found. That feeling when you are on the verge of being discovered, your cover (if any) blown to smithereens. You know it’s only a game. You know, when you get caught, nothing is really going to happen. But you still feel it. What it is?
5) When nails scratch a blackboard. When the tines of a fork are scraped with a spoon or a knife. What it is?
You know any other feelings I might have missed?
1) When you think something is going to be heavy, there is this sort of mental preparation to pick it up. Like a carton or a door. So, you gather the force you think is necessary for the object. And when you do, you suddenly realize the object/door/carton is a lot less heavier/easier to open. That feeling that you used extra force. What it is?
2) When you stand on the top of a building, a really, really tall one and you look down, there is this feeling. A feeling that you are going to fall. What it is?
3) This one is probably called a rush. Or headiness. You know, that first time you kiss someone. The closed eyes, the small smile playing on your lips and then the kiss. A frission of pleasure when you do. A feeling of pleasure that might start somewhere in your lower back and sensations that you feel in your ears, a tickle in your stomach, a feeling that you never want this to stop. What it is? And don’t you dare say love.
4) When you are playing game, hide and seek, the fear, the knotting in the stomach when you know you can be caught. The dread, the anxiousness, the awareness that you might be found. That feeling when you are on the verge of being discovered, your cover (if any) blown to smithereens. You know it’s only a game. You know, when you get caught, nothing is really going to happen. But you still feel it. What it is?
5) When nails scratch a blackboard. When the tines of a fork are scraped with a spoon or a knife. What it is?
You know any other feelings I might have missed?
Monday, September 27, 2010
When in Dubai, do the malls
Since I am all about coherence and sequence, I am going to keep this post about Dubai.
Now, as most people who have lived in Dubai will tell you, we spend a lot of time in Dubai in malls. We shop, we eat, we watch movies, we socialize, we do everything in malls. So, obviously, I have seen a general pattern of mall activities.
And these mall activities have tonnes of benefits. Take a look.
1) Fitness: We walk. In fact, we walk so much, some malls in Dubai have a walking-around-the-mall fitness class. People gather at some 8am in the morning, in their sneakers and walk around the mall briskly. No really. Some of us come out of the mall with well-built calves. Some of us even bunk malls because you know how boring walking can get.
Of course, as with every other activity, mall or otherwise, annoying kids run around. And exasperated mothers run around behind them. Usually, these kids will have some sticky substance (lets not guess here) on their hands and will go around touching all and sundry. The mothers (and maids) chase the very-thrilled kids, muttering apologies to pissed off shop owners and security personnel. The mother/ maid, sweaty and sweary, shoots the kid a you-are-so-fucked look (with the eyes) and tucks the errant poop machine under her arm and carries it to the next shopping destination. Legs. Check. Arms. Check. Frustration. Check. Replay.
Lets not forget the bags. The big ones, small ones, pretty ones, bad ones. All being carried in your arms. Great for toning.
2) Improved geography: Once upon a time, malls in Dubai were small and comfy. You went to one 4 times and then you know which shop was where, next to what and you could plan your shopping route. Now, malls are so big, looking for any shop is a multi-step process. First, you enter the parking lot and look for a parking spot closest to the mall entrance. Then, you look at the level you parked at. Then, you look for the level you are supposed to go to. Then you look for the information counter. Then, you randomly punch at the interactive screen (a sheer waste considering the confused looks on tourists’ faces when they try working one. A well-loved activity at Dubai Mall). Then, you finally find the information counter to be told you will have to go back to where you started from.
After 4 times, you may not know where you fave shop is but you would have discovered how to get there from route 1 with the starbucks, route 2 with the cute guy at the hair salon and route 3 – the not-so-scenic route.
3) Dodging skills: Being social in malls is almost a pre-requisite. Not by choice, but by force. There are lots of people in malls. And you learn to dodge all the elements and go a celebratory dance if you make it to the other side without causing serious injury, physical or mental, to yourself or fellow mallers. On an average, you would have brief encounter with the following: (oh, a list within a list! The horror of it!)
a. At least one shopping trolley: One enthusiastic supermarket shopper will walk across in front of you. Employ multi-defense techniques. First. Stop mid-step to avoid collision. Pull foot back to prevent the trolley from mauling your foot and scream expletives at the shopper. Walk past calmly, taking deep breaths.
b. Babies, again: They will put their sticky hands on your dress. You want? No? Thought as much. For them, kick them hard so they go flying or simply allow then to walk between your legs. Women wearing skirts are advised not to do this. One, because the child might get lost in the fabric. Two, because the dads may tempted to try the same thing.
c. Promotion people: They will hand out useless leaflets, file your nails, prance around in a skirt and some notorious ones will spray you with some nauseating perfume. Avoid like the plague.
4) Mall manners: The stuff you learn about only at malls. Like, you cannot charge into the lift with your trolley till all passengers have disembarked. Or that you cannot be caught dead in something that’s not fashionable. That mere mortals must only hang outside the Louis Vuitton and drool lustily. You may not bargain or haggle, its simply not done. That you must have a systematic queue for the loo. And all that. This one is exhaustive.
Thats all from the mall trawl. Signing off, mall loyalist.
Now, as most people who have lived in Dubai will tell you, we spend a lot of time in Dubai in malls. We shop, we eat, we watch movies, we socialize, we do everything in malls. So, obviously, I have seen a general pattern of mall activities.
And these mall activities have tonnes of benefits. Take a look.
1) Fitness: We walk. In fact, we walk so much, some malls in Dubai have a walking-around-the-mall fitness class. People gather at some 8am in the morning, in their sneakers and walk around the mall briskly. No really. Some of us come out of the mall with well-built calves. Some of us even bunk malls because you know how boring walking can get.
Of course, as with every other activity, mall or otherwise, annoying kids run around. And exasperated mothers run around behind them. Usually, these kids will have some sticky substance (lets not guess here) on their hands and will go around touching all and sundry. The mothers (and maids) chase the very-thrilled kids, muttering apologies to pissed off shop owners and security personnel. The mother/ maid, sweaty and sweary, shoots the kid a you-are-so-fucked look (with the eyes) and tucks the errant poop machine under her arm and carries it to the next shopping destination. Legs. Check. Arms. Check. Frustration. Check. Replay.
Lets not forget the bags. The big ones, small ones, pretty ones, bad ones. All being carried in your arms. Great for toning.
2) Improved geography: Once upon a time, malls in Dubai were small and comfy. You went to one 4 times and then you know which shop was where, next to what and you could plan your shopping route. Now, malls are so big, looking for any shop is a multi-step process. First, you enter the parking lot and look for a parking spot closest to the mall entrance. Then, you look at the level you parked at. Then, you look for the level you are supposed to go to. Then you look for the information counter. Then, you randomly punch at the interactive screen (a sheer waste considering the confused looks on tourists’ faces when they try working one. A well-loved activity at Dubai Mall). Then, you finally find the information counter to be told you will have to go back to where you started from.
After 4 times, you may not know where you fave shop is but you would have discovered how to get there from route 1 with the starbucks, route 2 with the cute guy at the hair salon and route 3 – the not-so-scenic route.
3) Dodging skills: Being social in malls is almost a pre-requisite. Not by choice, but by force. There are lots of people in malls. And you learn to dodge all the elements and go a celebratory dance if you make it to the other side without causing serious injury, physical or mental, to yourself or fellow mallers. On an average, you would have brief encounter with the following: (oh, a list within a list! The horror of it!)
a. At least one shopping trolley: One enthusiastic supermarket shopper will walk across in front of you. Employ multi-defense techniques. First. Stop mid-step to avoid collision. Pull foot back to prevent the trolley from mauling your foot and scream expletives at the shopper. Walk past calmly, taking deep breaths.
b. Babies, again: They will put their sticky hands on your dress. You want? No? Thought as much. For them, kick them hard so they go flying or simply allow then to walk between your legs. Women wearing skirts are advised not to do this. One, because the child might get lost in the fabric. Two, because the dads may tempted to try the same thing.
c. Promotion people: They will hand out useless leaflets, file your nails, prance around in a skirt and some notorious ones will spray you with some nauseating perfume. Avoid like the plague.
4) Mall manners: The stuff you learn about only at malls. Like, you cannot charge into the lift with your trolley till all passengers have disembarked. Or that you cannot be caught dead in something that’s not fashionable. That mere mortals must only hang outside the Louis Vuitton and drool lustily. You may not bargain or haggle, its simply not done. That you must have a systematic queue for the loo. And all that. This one is exhaustive.
Thats all from the mall trawl. Signing off, mall loyalist.
Monday, August 16, 2010
You have just been “Dubaitized”
I have forever and some more being running away from being “Dubaitized”. I get shivers down my spine and sweaty armpits (yes, not very flattering) at the thought to being labeled this way.
So, from my observations from around the place, I have made my own list of people or behavior that is distinctly Dubai.
On the road:
1) If on Sheikh Zayed road, your aim is to push the accelerator till 120, stay there and then revel in the fabulousity that is you. You smile smugly as the radars don’t flash at you. Hah!
2) While still on SZR, if a car in front of you indicates it wants to come into your lane, you speed up, end up dangerously close and secretly pat yourself on the back for not letting that one car in your lane.
3) You think changing lanes without indicating is uber cool.
4) You wouldn’t be caught dead with both hands on the steering wheel. You may be dead because of your one-hand grandeur, but you couldn’t risk two-hands-on-steering kind of crude behavior.
5) It is below your dignity, way below, to do a shoulder check once you pass your road test. Dignified is when you swerve like a drunk monkey on to the next lane, get honked at by a petrified driver and you swerve back onto your lane, your heart doing a whoop inside.
6) If a place/café/restaurant is exactly opposite of where you are standing, you have to take an exit, get back on to the road, take a right, miss a diversion, avoid oncoming pedestrians, take a left, curse a taxi driver, end up on the back road and find the place.
At work:
1) A typical day goes like this- enter work 15 mins late,(assuming your company is strict about these things) , stop at your desk, switch on your laptop , head to pantry, make coffee and banal conversation with colleagues about sports/family/TV shows, head back to desk, check emails, reply to 4, head down for a cigarette break, chat with colleagues about sports/family/TV shows, bitch, sit at desk, turn around talk to colleagues, facebook and write idiotic comments on friends pictures, have lunch, check 2 more emails, have coffee, talk to colleagues about sports/family/TV shows, have a cigarette break, go to one meeting where someone drones on about something you don’t care about, pack up and leave.
2) If you think you are wearing something too sexy or slightly inappropriate to work, worry not. Some chick, botoxed and siliconed, is walking around in something that would be vulgar in a strip joint.
3) If you are as guy, tight pants are an absolute must. They must stifle your manhood and make your seriously uncomfortable. I repeat, you must be uncomfortable.
4) When you have just come to Dubai, you will be surprised at the number of incompetent people who are employed. Your dubaitized avatar will accept incompetency with much less resistance and almost start to think of it as a skill. I will also let you on a secret. What worked in your country and your city and at the back of your butt, doesn’t necessarily work in Dubai. Its different, understand that.
At leisure:
1) It is imperative to your being that you do shisha. Friends do shisha, colleagues do shisha, neighbours do shisha, anyone who is anyone or no one does shisha. So, exactly what does doing shisha entail? Shisha is when you make sounds to the effect of “bud..bud..bud” while puffing away some smoke. There is also flavor involved somewhere. And everyone gathered blows smoke into the air discussing hours at an end subjects of deep philosophical nature such as why grape shisha is better than mint and how poodles look better in pink bows. Aah, such stimulating intellectual conversation dots such shisha places everyday.
2) Your sense of adventure extends to running around in the grocery store. For a day out, you walk over to your car – and then head out to a brunch.
3) You think actually playing a sport or real football is a waste of time and your muscles cramp at the thought of moving more than your finger.
4) You have spent so much time on Wii that you expect yourself to move automatically when you play real tennis.
5) Mind games for you are figuring out which way will take you next to the coffee shop, despite all the diversions. Despite you being great at this mental game, you end up on the wrong side of the road and watch wistfully as people sip on their coffees at your favourite café.
6) You have the Dubai stone.
I will add to this one. I know I will.
So, from my observations from around the place, I have made my own list of people or behavior that is distinctly Dubai.
On the road:
1) If on Sheikh Zayed road, your aim is to push the accelerator till 120, stay there and then revel in the fabulousity that is you. You smile smugly as the radars don’t flash at you. Hah!
2) While still on SZR, if a car in front of you indicates it wants to come into your lane, you speed up, end up dangerously close and secretly pat yourself on the back for not letting that one car in your lane.
3) You think changing lanes without indicating is uber cool.
4) You wouldn’t be caught dead with both hands on the steering wheel. You may be dead because of your one-hand grandeur, but you couldn’t risk two-hands-on-steering kind of crude behavior.
5) It is below your dignity, way below, to do a shoulder check once you pass your road test. Dignified is when you swerve like a drunk monkey on to the next lane, get honked at by a petrified driver and you swerve back onto your lane, your heart doing a whoop inside.
6) If a place/café/restaurant is exactly opposite of where you are standing, you have to take an exit, get back on to the road, take a right, miss a diversion, avoid oncoming pedestrians, take a left, curse a taxi driver, end up on the back road and find the place.
At work:
1) A typical day goes like this- enter work 15 mins late,(assuming your company is strict about these things) , stop at your desk, switch on your laptop , head to pantry, make coffee and banal conversation with colleagues about sports/family/TV shows, head back to desk, check emails, reply to 4, head down for a cigarette break, chat with colleagues about sports/family/TV shows, bitch, sit at desk, turn around talk to colleagues, facebook and write idiotic comments on friends pictures, have lunch, check 2 more emails, have coffee, talk to colleagues about sports/family/TV shows, have a cigarette break, go to one meeting where someone drones on about something you don’t care about, pack up and leave.
2) If you think you are wearing something too sexy or slightly inappropriate to work, worry not. Some chick, botoxed and siliconed, is walking around in something that would be vulgar in a strip joint.
3) If you are as guy, tight pants are an absolute must. They must stifle your manhood and make your seriously uncomfortable. I repeat, you must be uncomfortable.
4) When you have just come to Dubai, you will be surprised at the number of incompetent people who are employed. Your dubaitized avatar will accept incompetency with much less resistance and almost start to think of it as a skill. I will also let you on a secret. What worked in your country and your city and at the back of your butt, doesn’t necessarily work in Dubai. Its different, understand that.
At leisure:
1) It is imperative to your being that you do shisha. Friends do shisha, colleagues do shisha, neighbours do shisha, anyone who is anyone or no one does shisha. So, exactly what does doing shisha entail? Shisha is when you make sounds to the effect of “bud..bud..bud” while puffing away some smoke. There is also flavor involved somewhere. And everyone gathered blows smoke into the air discussing hours at an end subjects of deep philosophical nature such as why grape shisha is better than mint and how poodles look better in pink bows. Aah, such stimulating intellectual conversation dots such shisha places everyday.
2) Your sense of adventure extends to running around in the grocery store. For a day out, you walk over to your car – and then head out to a brunch.
3) You think actually playing a sport or real football is a waste of time and your muscles cramp at the thought of moving more than your finger.
4) You have spent so much time on Wii that you expect yourself to move automatically when you play real tennis.
5) Mind games for you are figuring out which way will take you next to the coffee shop, despite all the diversions. Despite you being great at this mental game, you end up on the wrong side of the road and watch wistfully as people sip on their coffees at your favourite café.
6) You have the Dubai stone.
I will add to this one. I know I will.
Sunday, July 18, 2010
Because i am sick of repeating myself
I am high-maintenance.
I want to be your priority. Not an option. Not number 2 on your list. You wouldn’t like it any other way from me right?
DON’T TAKE ME FOR GRANTED. I don’t take nicely to it. At all. I will not understand if you have to save the world when you can be spending time with me. You can never be busy enough to not call me or message me throughout the day. Basically sweety, cut the crap.
I have a temper. I am telling you now so you don’t pretend you didn’t know what you were getting into. If I am pissed off, be nice and give me attention. Don’t get angry back at me. I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it.
If you want this badly enough, work on it.
I want to be treated like a princess. Do you have a problem with that?
I don’t like bad attitude. Should I tell you where to put it or will you just understand on your own?
You need intelligence. A lot of it. If you don’t know where Machu Picchu is or what it is, or what caviar actually is, don’t waste my time. I am no good with stupid.
If you don’t have patience, I don’t either. While we would be a potent competition, I am likely to be more aggressive than you and might bite your head off. Fine, make that I WILL bite your head off.
If you think you can tame me, think again.
I am loud, vivacious and completely crazy. If you have to been seen with certain people behaving a certain way, you will probably have to sedate me. On the other hand, you could just learn to join in the fun.
I like trying out new things. I will experiment with food and with life. If you would rather sit at home and pollute the earth with your farts, we are simply not meant to be. What a loss.
I like being kissed on the forehead and being kissed deeply. I like you staring into my eyes with love.
If you speak good English (grammatically correct), smell divine, can carry on a great conversation and have minty fresh breath, you have got me weak-kneed and drooly. I am now playdoh in your hands. Throw in some romance and I will give you something to talk about for a long, really long time.
If you meet all of the above and I fall in love with you, I will go till the ends of the earth to make you happy.
Now, if you aren’t exhausted and are a man, court me.
I want to be your priority. Not an option. Not number 2 on your list. You wouldn’t like it any other way from me right?
DON’T TAKE ME FOR GRANTED. I don’t take nicely to it. At all. I will not understand if you have to save the world when you can be spending time with me. You can never be busy enough to not call me or message me throughout the day. Basically sweety, cut the crap.
I have a temper. I am telling you now so you don’t pretend you didn’t know what you were getting into. If I am pissed off, be nice and give me attention. Don’t get angry back at me. I have a gun and I am not afraid to use it.
If you want this badly enough, work on it.
I want to be treated like a princess. Do you have a problem with that?
I don’t like bad attitude. Should I tell you where to put it or will you just understand on your own?
You need intelligence. A lot of it. If you don’t know where Machu Picchu is or what it is, or what caviar actually is, don’t waste my time. I am no good with stupid.
If you don’t have patience, I don’t either. While we would be a potent competition, I am likely to be more aggressive than you and might bite your head off. Fine, make that I WILL bite your head off.
If you think you can tame me, think again.
I am loud, vivacious and completely crazy. If you have to been seen with certain people behaving a certain way, you will probably have to sedate me. On the other hand, you could just learn to join in the fun.
I like trying out new things. I will experiment with food and with life. If you would rather sit at home and pollute the earth with your farts, we are simply not meant to be. What a loss.
I like being kissed on the forehead and being kissed deeply. I like you staring into my eyes with love.
If you speak good English (grammatically correct), smell divine, can carry on a great conversation and have minty fresh breath, you have got me weak-kneed and drooly. I am now playdoh in your hands. Throw in some romance and I will give you something to talk about for a long, really long time.
If you meet all of the above and I fall in love with you, I will go till the ends of the earth to make you happy.
Now, if you aren’t exhausted and are a man, court me.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Aww...yeah screw you
I am short temepered. I mean, I know that. But you know, people can be really annoying. So, here we go into another series of rants:
1) Cute name on facebook and things.
Now, seriously you may think you are a “cool cat” or “mast munna” or whatever the fuck you think is an apt adjective for you. But for fucks sake, stop using that on facebook. NOT CUTE. No really, it isn’t. I will just prefer you with your name. Actually, I don’t think I prefer you in any way.
2) People who go headfirst into baby-making
You have been married for one year. Sometimes you walk up to your better half in a club, flirting with them shamelessly till the lights come on and you realize that you will be leaving the club with someone you came to the club with. Other times, you stare at her blankly when she stands there fully-clothed. Your bedside flaunts her name in capital, font size 36, bold - gentle reminder of the name you are supposed to be saying in bed.
But, you are ok with having babies with her because you are married. Oh puhhhleeezzzeee. For everyone getting married, you are not doing those dizzying circles around the fire/ walking to the altar/ muttering acceptance so you can repopulate the earth. Invest in getting to know the person, its only nice to the person who is going to be popping mini-you into this world
3) Katrina Kaif
Because she is plain stupid. She cant act, speak decently or dance. Who even called her an actress? And while I am at it, Genelia, you aren’t cute, so stop trying.
1) Cute name on facebook and things.
Now, seriously you may think you are a “cool cat” or “mast munna” or whatever the fuck you think is an apt adjective for you. But for fucks sake, stop using that on facebook. NOT CUTE. No really, it isn’t. I will just prefer you with your name. Actually, I don’t think I prefer you in any way.
2) People who go headfirst into baby-making
You have been married for one year. Sometimes you walk up to your better half in a club, flirting with them shamelessly till the lights come on and you realize that you will be leaving the club with someone you came to the club with. Other times, you stare at her blankly when she stands there fully-clothed. Your bedside flaunts her name in capital, font size 36, bold - gentle reminder of the name you are supposed to be saying in bed.
But, you are ok with having babies with her because you are married. Oh puhhhleeezzzeee. For everyone getting married, you are not doing those dizzying circles around the fire/ walking to the altar/ muttering acceptance so you can repopulate the earth. Invest in getting to know the person, its only nice to the person who is going to be popping mini-you into this world
3) Katrina Kaif
Because she is plain stupid. She cant act, speak decently or dance. Who even called her an actress? And while I am at it, Genelia, you aren’t cute, so stop trying.
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