A nasty thing called Love

Love is not patient, love is not kind. It does envy, it does boast, it is proud. It can be rude, it is self-seeking, it is very easily angered, it definitely keeps record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth but also likes to twist it. It always protects (too much perhaps- read: possessive), always trusts (not), always hopes, always perseveres (yeah, right!).

I'm not being cynical or anything. I am one of those hopeless romantics, in case you've forgotten. But this is what love is like. All the clichés prove it. For example, 'Love is composed of a single soul inhabiting two bodies'. Now just imagine that...that's a real pain in the ass. It's like sharing your room with your sibling; and we all know how annoying that can get. Perhaps that is the reason divorce rates skyrocket every year. Or, 'You only hurt the one you love'. Just peachy! You'd think, falling in love would solve a lot of your problems. But darlin', don't be naive! Love is the problem. Aerosmith said it best, "Falling in love is so hard on the knees." With all that falling, begging, proposing; the knees are bound to suffer, along with that poor, foolish heart.

History shows how destructive love can be. Paris' greedy "love" for Helen resulted in the destruction of Troy. Romeo and Juliet showed us how foolish and impatient love is. If Romeo had only waited a few minutes before stabbing himself oh-so-brutally with his knife, he would've had the pleasure of loving Juliet for the rest of his life. Silly, impatient love! Just today in fact, there's an article about a 53 year old man in Glasgow found guilty of killing his wife, whom he had married for the SECOND time, just seven months before he stabbed her cruelly. The reason: he was jealous of his wife's friendship with her former lover. Angry, unkind, envious, possessive and non trusting love! Hmph!

Love, my friends, is a battlefield. You can only come out broken, battered and bruised. You set yourself up for your own destruction. You open your heart to this stupid person, who enters your stupid life and sweeps you off your wobbly feet, with a kiss or some pretty words. Love is fickle; so beware, the itinerary is prone to changing. One minute you're soaking up the sun in Miami, and in the next you find yourself floating above the Bermuda triangle. Lost. There's no way around it. If you want to fall in love, you've got to go through the motions. C'est la fuckin vie!

But don't you worry...when Love rips you apart, your friends will stitch you up. "Friends are like condoms. They protect you when things get hard". And boy, do they get rock hard! They'll pacify you and remind you that there are plenty of fish in the sea (not that I've ever understood what fish have to do with my irreparably broken heart). They'll tell you that you're too good for the evil person who broke your heart (what a solid ego boost!). They'll hand out the tissues and bring out the beer. They'll make you laugh and convince you to never give up on love. Don't mind them. They haven't been where you've been. Or if they have, they're just as convinced as you are that Love will save them one day. But, when you have your friends, you'll never be alone. So if you insist on getting on the roller coaster called love, make sure you've got a friend riding along.

An Ode to the Penis Bearer

An Ode to the Penis Bearer.

Thou art a marvellous being,

Blessed with an endowment that sees only victory.

A whim or a fancy,

You receive what you please.

Respect, freely comes your way,

No need to earn it, no need to care.

Oh Penis bearer,

Your every wish is my command.

I'll lay naked at your behest,

Stripped of my will, my honour, my self-respect.

I am woman,

And I've been told,

That only a good blow would get me anywhere I chose.

Your existence is convenient.

No monthly bloodbath,

Or the pain of your vagina being torn apart.

You can stick that stick in as many as you please,

But if I do, I'm a whore.

Oh great Penis Bearer,

I bow to the power you hold.

Even the heavens are in your favour,

You ask and they will pour.

But beware,

I am woman, and I will avenge.

You might control my body,

You may even thrust and torture.

But you shall never control my heart, my mind, my soul.

Oh Penis Bearer,

I am woman, and I have given you plenty a chance,

To have and cherish my heart.

But you, you sir, have raped and pillaged it instead.

Worry not, I shall avenge.

I need no heaven, I need no god.

I am woman, you begin and you shall end,

By my hands.

Oh Penis Bearer,

Thou shalt never be worthy of a single tear

Or the precious heart I hold within.

Thou shalt never be my soul's bearer

Or receive my magical strength.

I shall use you,

To quench the thirst of my loins.

I shall seduce you,

With my supple lips and my buxom beauty.

I shall destroy you,

With my love.

Oh Penis Bearer,

I wish you were kinder.

I wish you understood.

I wish you didn't treat me like a fool.

My only hope is,

That I can find,

Even a single one of your Penis Bearer kind,

That could actually deserve Me, my heart, my soul and my mind.

Of buses, passports and men

To: Aarya

From: Shoa

Sent:10.01 am

29-04-2010

"My heart is bursting with joy n my loins are burning with lust. My hot bus boy is here! What are the chances man?! Could he be my one and only?"

The hunter in me has sniffed out new places to find the perfect prey. Who would've thought that Bombay's most eligible bachelors would travel by the AC bus?! And who would've thought that there would come a day when I'd be a happy little chirpy monkey at 8.30 in the morning!

It all began two weeks ago. At 8 am I was at the bus stop, grumpy and bleary eyed, waiting for the AS 4 to arrive. At 8.30 am, the most gorgeous Indian Male got into the bus. At 8.31 am, he gave the most heart racing, belly aching smile to...the conductor. At 8.32 am, I knew I was in love. The entire bus ride to the Passport office, I had my neck craned behind so that I could keep my eyes trained on him. It was an hour well spent. My day was looking bright and splendid, until I got off the bus. And then it went downhill pretty fast. The bastards at the Passport office told me to go home and register online. So my whole trip, if not for the 'most gorgeous Indian Male', would've been a total waste.

My appointment fell on the 29th of April, and I had to take the later bus, so I had no hopes of seeing my sexy bus boy. I entertained myself with some soul music and continued my dreaming from the previous night. The bus stopped and my eyes moved to the door and I held my breath. The 'most gorgeous Indian Male' had just stepped onto the bus!! There were fireworks in my mind. I was convinced this was fate, destiny, KISMET! I was smiling with glee and the woman seated next to me looked at me suspiciously. I continued to stare at him shamelessly while imagining our 'serendipity' style romance. I gave him a lascivious look before I got off the bus at the Passport office, hoping that we would cross paths again.

Once again, my day went downhill from there. The Passport Office is hell on earth. I braved five hours of mind torture, annoyance, sleep deprivation, anger, irritation, and hunger. The Devil's minions that run this office are sadistic pissers. They are condescending little shits that talk down to you and bask in your misery. They're dementors in human form that suck every little happy thought from your soul. They're downright EVIL! But thankfully, my work was done and I could escape by late afternoon.

The day started to look bright again when my beautiful curly haired angel, Aarya made me a nice cup of tea and fed me bread with blue cheese and the most delcious and juicy frozen mango. A few hours were spent lounging about, talking and laughing. Then came another disaster. As I was walking out of Bandra station I was stopped by the Ticket Checkers. For some reason, I knew I was doomed...and indeed I was. The ticket would've cost me Rs. 6, but I had forgotten to get a 1rupee coupon punched. I started to cry. It was pretty involuntary. I'm guessing it was the stress of the day, and the lack of sleep. But I cried...and how! Those idiot TCs asked me to move to the side and search my bag 'properly' for something I knew I wouldn't find. I cried harder. Every passer by would stop and stare at me. But I cried, blatantly, tears speeding down my cheeks. I looked to the right, tried to see if I could make a run for it. Then I figured, that a woman's tears can accomplish anything, so I went up to the TC and told him I couldn't find the ticket, hiccuping away. I really didn't want to waste Rs. 150 for a 1 rupee coupon. No way Jose! My finances are at their lowest low right now. I really couldn't bare it. That thought made me cry harder. The TC began to freak out...and in hushed tones, told me to go. I thanked him profusely, making sure I still had tears pooling in my eyes. I walked away, towards the rickshaw stand, and the minute I was far away, I started laughing, thunderously. I laughed and cried, and the hawkers nearby thought I was stark raving mad. I jumped into a rickshaw and made my way to Carter road. Finally my day was going back to normal. The thought of 'sexy bus boy' made me smile once again and I was on my way to getting my 'happy' back!

I'm actually hoping I have something else to do in south bombay this week so I can catch another morning bus and maybe this time I'll pass 'Sexy bus boy' a 10 rupee note with my name and number on it. So all you townies, you could totally take advantage of this situation.

And ladies, there are good looking men in Bombay, so don't give up hope yet. Just get your bootylicious selves into the next AC bus and you might just get lucky.