Himmilicious's Blog, page 23

The Sexually Harassing Smile

I was a theatre person and an upcoming actress. I was ambitious and hard working. I had full faith on my talent and I took a pledge to gain cover my destination without any support and illegal activity.
I won a drama competition and was awarded by one of the most renowned leaders and public figures of our society. He liked me and appreciated my work. I felt blessed by the words of this fatherly figure kind hearted man.

A few days back again in some theatre show I met him. I figured out he was keen to theatre.

He saw me and recognized. I felt so overwhelmed that such a known personality has recognized me. I pat my back and gave myself a self reward of motivation. I am talented and my work left an impression on the mind of the judge.

He asked me to meet in the office after the show.
I was happy.
I told my elder brother and he agreed to accompany me to the minister's office.
He came for obvious reason for a confidence, security and moral support.
He loves me so much and was really happy to see me growing.
He supported me at every stage of life.

We reached the minister's office. It was white and well designed.
Beautifully decorated and well served.
I waited in the hall and after a few minutes a man came and greeted us. He asked me to meet 'Sirji', who was waiting inside.

I looked into the eyes of my brother and he supported me with a smile.

I went inside. I was undoubtedly nervous and my heart was pumping high.

I made myself comfortable on the soft feathery couch.
Minister Saab was busy on phone. He looked at me and asked me to have a seat.
He took almost fifteen minutes on phone and meanwhile I was asked and served with Cold drink.
I was looking around his room.
Beautiful artificial flowers, lots of books, a small temple, a beautiful large portrait of national leaders and a few paintings of Buddha.

Coat hanging on the chair and he sipped water while talking on phone.

At times he looks at me and passes a smile and then again calls his assistants to delicate some work.

"What a busy man he is.
We criticize our politicians for no reason. They work really hard"
I corrected my mentality.

Finally after getting free from all phone calls he called me up to his table and I took a seat, smiling and confident.
My nervousness faded away in fifteen minutes and now I appeared to be extra confident and smiling.

He asked me a few questions about my career, family, ambitions and ordered his assistants for something to eat.

He enquired future goals and sources of income of my family.
He asked about my parents and my education..

I provided him with factual details and clarified that I had no Plans to step inside politics.

I was an artist and born to rule the industry.

Our chat continued for more than an hour and my brother waiting outside was in my mind.

I checked my phone a few times whether there's any message from Bhai.
After an hour or so when he was well informed about me he asked about my relationship status.
I felt awkward that why a man of my father's age is so very interested in my life.
I smiled and replied calmly that I was engaged and my fiance works in a leading software company, soon we are to be married.

He appreciated that and I felt a bit relaxed that he asked casually, with no prime reasons.

The he started talking about casting couch in Bollywood and my experience into it.
I firmly said I am against all these tantrums and I prefer to walk slowly but safe, keeping my dignity high.

He smiled and appreciated my high morals and said we lack women like me in the industry.
I felt proud upon myself and calmly said that it is individual preference and I do not bother anybody's life.

Then he further asked about my sexual orientation, that is if I am straight or bisexual.
I interrupted him in between and mentioned my brother waiting outside and I had to go.
I could sense the conversion digressing towards a wrong path so he must be aware that I am not alone or weak.
I could feel the 'male-instinct' in the environment and to be honest I was back to the phase of my nervousness.

He left his chair and started roaming in the room. He stretched his body. He didn't come near me but went to the section of his books and started looking at them and talking to me.

He gave me a long philosophical lecture of no pain no gain and business dealings.
The trends of industry and not to hype things.
He confessed his attraction towards me or to cut short towards my body.
I am now well aware of his intention and feeling insulted.
Thousands of leaches are running on my body when he looks at me.
He is disgusting, more than a tape worm.
I feel like ripping his heart out and chop him into small pieces.
Being a female, is it a mistake?
I am an artist, I do not sell my soul, my dignity.
I finally burst out and abused him. I cried and cursed him.
After all he smiled and asked me to calm down.
I couldn't. How can I? Why should I?
He has no right to live on this earth. He must die.

After all this thing he said he was checking me!!!
Checking? What the heck?
It made me a bit calm but I was still skeptical.
I asked him to take a leave and he allowed with a smile and for being helpful in future.

I came outside and my brother noticed my smudged kohl and red eyes.
He assumed some thing is wrong (if I was sexually assaulted because more than 1:30 hours I was in his room)
Without wasting a minute he asked me what happened. His angry face and raised voice made me scared to hell and I couldn't speak a word but cried loud.
He left me there and barged into the room of the minister.
The bodyguards and officials held my brother and stopped him to grab the minister's neck.
My brother had a fit of anger and this all was looking like so dramatic and like a scene in Bollywood films.
Or maybe this a natural response of a brother and appeared to me dramatic as I am a theatre person.
The minister stood calm and asked his guards to drop us out respectfully to the gate.

What else I can say.. My brother is into the jail, accused for drug dealing and I have finally slept with random ministers to help my brother out of the jail.
I should have slept with one bastard than many..
You may find this quite filmy and may be this was my mistake.. Real life is far more pinching than reel life..
I have many more things to say, to tell my mistake to get over excited to meet a powerful person, to forget that I am just a girl- part of 6 billion people.
That I tried saving the woman in me..

N.B : It is a conversation crafted into conversation, a script is yet to be developed and edited.
Any questions, comments, suggestions are welcomed. Please feel free to post in comments!

Happy Holi! Let Me Paint You White [Part II]

Part I of the story :-Happy Holi! Let Me Paint You White [Part I]

He wrapped his arms around me. ‘Oh..! He is high on booze!’ I confirmed myself.
He embraced me lovingly and started making some moves on the song. I loved it and accompanied him.

Good Friday.. Better Saturday.. Best Sunday..

Friday , Day 1

7:30 AM 

He said '' baby are you not going to gym today?''
I grabbed his collar, pushed him on the bed and said ''kissing is a good exercise, let me do in for 40 minutes'' :D

12:45 PM

Heavy rain and he stopped his car, held my neck and smooched me.
Outside rain and inside warmth of our bodies covered the windows of the car with mist. Within the blink of eyes he grabbed me in his arms and smooched me.
'Wait! There are people outside.'
"Nobody is there." and he pulled me in his arms kissing my neck and touching my bosoms.
This romantic weather carried me away and I broke my rules of not making love in public places 'I wanna taste you' I said in hissing voice and his hands moved inside to pull my leggings down.
I was all his with my closed eyes and I wanted him to rule my body in this rain.
Making love in sedan is awesome, specially when it's raining not only cats and dogs but also blue whales and dinosaurs.
He is manipulating my intentions and made an O-to-O deal.
His trademark Omelette for Orgasm! And today I got big delicious Omelette Sandwich. ♥

Before hiding my face into his chest and take an off to la-la-land!

I am always skeptical when he behaves sweet.
He was working on some scripts. I came from behind and snatched his laptop.
'Hey, wait, what? I am working babe!' Said he, getting disturbed.
'So?' Work on me too. You must exercise two times, you see! 40 minutes more.
I said teasing him and making a sweet innocent face.
He widened his pupil and said " I am a human. Have some mercy on my junior milady"
I said, giving airs to myself 'Ummm.. Okay then say some beautiful words for me if you want your laptop back"
I raised my nose in air and shrugged my shoulder, " Please Proceed Director Saab"
He jumped over me and squeezed me in the bed and started cuddling me a lot.
I was laughing like 'fit-caught-cow' and my eyes were wet. I pled him to leave me and promised not to disturb again.
He stopped then and said kissing my tears rolled down of laughter.
"Nothing else is important than you love and yes, you are beautiful.
The lady of my life and you have full right to suck my account balance"
He laughed.

Ah.. The last words gave peace to my soul.. I was about to ask for shopping.. :D

Happy Holi.. Let Me Paint You White [Part I]

"Happy Holi.. Let me Paint you White"

Part I

Since morning he was bit romantic, maybe because he knows I will set him free today.

He can booze, dance have bhaang and whole day he can kick his adulthood and enjoy the insanity of Holi.

He started teasing me since morning. " I will have lunch at Subhash's" He grins every time he takes name of Pooja bhabi and it makes me feel pissed.

Pooja is a flirtatious lady and favorite to all her brothers in law because of her deep neck blouse and transparent saree and this is Holi - A festival of tease.

I did not say anything and took it as a sport but inside my heart that devil woman was cursing Pooja for her "MILFiyat"

After following the stereotyped blessed dry holi with Adults we, for childish insanity, moved to his cousin- Subhash's house.

He owns a dream big penthouse - Big pool, barbecue, Personal bar and a beautiful terrace garden, so, he organizes Holi at his terrace.

Our car was already looking like “Holi Cow" and the balloon-bombardment of society kids were aiming our asses.

As we stepped out of building, we were saved by one step to get wet by that stinking shower. “Idiots!" he spoke aloud at those giggling chaps.

I controlled my mirth but his eyes caught me.

"What are you laughing at?" he asked raising his brows.

"Happy holi!" And I winked.

We hastily comforted our butts in the car and took off to the road to our destination.

Radio was overflowing ancient songs without which the festival seems to be incomplete and some dingy RJ was uttering hola-Lola on every station I was shuffling.

Not much but roads were stained with colours of holi and it was a moving traffic.

Meanwhile a few phone calls of holi wishes entertained us and we being 'typical family people' were discussing about our relatives, to be honest, we were bitching about Mama's brother's cousin's wife's brother's daughter's boyfriend - who cleared UGC-NET yesterday.

As we reached at Subhash's the 'change-coins' kids attacked us with water guns and we were welcomed warmly.
Ladies caught me and dragged me to the kitchen and Pooja Bhabi hugged me.
Her heavy balloons suffocated my Oranges and managed to glue my 'good-girl' smile.
Almost eight families are here with kids flying on the tune of the legendary songs and messing the hall with wet chappals and dripping clothes.
Mothers of the little devils are shouting like alarms to send them on terrace

I could smell the mouth watering and stomach wobbling smell of BBQed birds and I saw the coal coated smoke possessing my man too.
We looked at each other’s eyes and my bon-vivant said “Let’s go and play holi”
I arrested his intentions to soak his throat in alky and chew the flesh.
We all marched towards Subhash’s beautiful terrace garden. It was a giant terrace of 25-30k sqft, perfumed with London Roses, big beautiful Dahlias, beautiful pink Raspberry surprise, Lupines and Gladioli.
The mezzanine was dressed with Morning Glory and Violets. A beautiful eye-charming mini heaven-like place to celebrate holi.
Along with the eight relative families there were some friends’ families too so it was a big Holi-Day
As we stepped in the terrace the undercover agents with monkey-painted face attacked on us with colours in hand. After some colourful battle of ladies and gentlemen we found ourselves hard to recognize. Yes! We were monkey faced too.
The copyright holi ‘Rang Barse remixed with Gangnam style and Dubstep’ was awesome and we all started dancing.
I had a constant eye on him and his actions. Typical Woman I am, counting his pegs and glass of bhaangs.
Sheena, my cousin came running towards me and gave me a big glass with a grin.
“What?” I said surprisingly
she winked and said “Gatak jaao Didi” (bottoms up sister)
I smiled at her with broad shining eyes and took the glass. “Just a few sips. It’s not home”
and I took four big sips of thandaai.
Sheena and I used to take vodka shots, and this was our top-secret till I got married to Kabeer. I tried to hide it for a long but men are men. He made me drink on the third day of our honeymoon because we had to try something kinky and I bragged about my dildo-tales to him. Next morning I tried to escape our eye contact till he reined me in the bed after his lunch.
Anyways, coming back to the deliciousness. I ate some pakoda and fries, some kebabs and tikkas and fatigued in half an hour. Dizziness and mirth made me sit on the couch for a while.
Kabeer came near me and pulled my hands to dance.
He wrapped his arms around me. ‘Oh..! He is high on booze!’ I confirmed myself.
He embraced me lovingly and started making some moves on the song. I loved it and accompanied him.

Part II will be soon. stay touched!

Happy Holi.. Let Me Paint You White

"Happy Holi.. Let me Paint you White"

Since morning he was bit romantic, maybe because he knows I will set him free today.He can booze, dance have bhaang and whole day he can kick his adulthood and enjoy the insanity of Holi.He started teasing me since morning. " I will have lunch at Subhash's" He grins every time he takes name of Pooja bhabiand it makes me feel pissed.Pooja is a flirtatious lady and favorite to all her brothers in law because of her deep neck blouse and transparent saree and this is Holi - A festival of tease.I did not say anything and took it as a sport but inside my heart that devil woman was cursing Pooja for her "MILFiyat"After following the stereotyped blessed dry holiwith Adults we, for childish insanity, moved to his cousin- Subhash's house.He owns a dream big penthouse - Big pool, barbecue, Personal bar and a beautiful terrace garden, so, he organizes Holi at his terrace.
Our car was already looking like “Holi Cow" and the balloon-bombardment of society kids were aiming our asses.As we stepped out of building, we were saved by one step to get wet by that stinking shower. “Idiots!" he spoke aloud at those giggling chaps.I controlled my mirth but his eyes caught me."What are you laughing at?" he asked raising his brows."Happy holi!" And I winked.We hastily comforted our butts in the car and took off to the road to our destination.Radio was overflowing ancient songs without which the festival seems to be incomplete and some dingy RJ was uttering hola-Lola on every station I was shuffling.Not much but roads were stained with colours of holiand it was a moving traffic.Meanwhile a few phone calls of holi wishes entertained us and we being 'typical family people' were discussing about our relatives, to be honest, we were bitching about Mama's brother's cousin's wife's brother's daughter's boyfriend - who cleared UGC-NET yesterday.As we reached at Subhash's the 'change-coins' kids attacked us with water guns and we were welcomed warmly.
Ladies caught me and dragged me to the kitchen and Pooja Bhabi hugged me.
Her heavy balloons suffocated my Oranges and managed to glue my 'good-girl' smile.

Almost eight families are here with kids flying on the tune of the legendary songs and messing the hall with wet chappals and dripping clothes.
Mothers of the little devils are shouting like alarms to send them on terraceI could smell the mouth watering and stomach wobbling smell of BBQed birds and I saw the coal coated smoke possessing my man too.
We looked at each other’s eyes and my bon-vivant said “Let’s go and play holi”
I arrested his intentions to soak his throat in alky and chew the flesh.
We all marched towards Subhash’s beautiful terrace garden. It was a giant terrace of 25-30k sqft, perfumed with London Roses, big beautiful Dahlias, beautiful pink Raspberry surprise, Lupines and Gladioli.
The mezzanine was dressed with Morning Glory and Violets. A beautiful eye-charming mini heaven-like  place to celebrate holi.
Along with the eight relative families there were some friends’ families too so it was a big Holi-Day
As we stepped in the terrace the undercover agents with monkey-painted face attacked on us with colours in hand. After some colourful battle of ladies and gentlemen we found ourselves hard to recognize. Yes! We were monkey faced too.
The copyright holi ‘Rang Barse remixed with Gangnam style and Dubstep’ was awesome and we all started dancing.
I had a constant eye on him and his actions. Typical Woman I am, counting his pegs and glass of bhaangs.
Sheena, my cousin came running towards me and gave me a big glass with a grin.
“What?” I said surprisingly
she winked and said “Gatak jaao Didi” (bottoms up sister)
I smiled at her with broad shining eyes and took the glass. “Just a few sips. It’s not home”
and I took four big sips of thandaai.
Sheena and I used to take vodka shots, and this was our top-secret till I got married to Kabeer. I tried to hide it for a long but men are men. He made me drink on the third day of our honeymoon because we had to try something kinky and I bragged about my dildo-tales to him. Next morning I tried to escape our eye contact till he reined me in the bed after his lunch.
Anyways, coming back to the deliciousness. I ate some pakoda and fries, some kebabs and tikkas and fatigued in half an hour. Dizziness and mirth made me sit on the couch for a while.
Kabeer came near me and pulled my hands to dance.
He wrapped his arms around me. ‘Oh..! He is high on booze!’ I confirmed myself.
He embraced me lovingly and started making some moves on the song. I loved it and accompanied him.

The Confession of a Woman

This is a summary of a conversation I had with my friend.


She had been in love relations for eight times.
And for all the eight times she was loyal and dedicated.
Never cheated, never stepped out, no infidelity but a pure dedication.
She is 38 today and in a relationship.
Over a coffee, I asked how do you feel being in relation.
She said, I am in relation because I need a man in my life.
The feeling of being loved, pampered and cuddled gone long time back.
I remember all my eight relationships and all I could learn, a woman can sacrifice everything for her man, to get loved, to have a home and children.
I needed it and I dreamt of it.
I gave myself many chances and tried not to repeat the mistakes of previous relationships.
Some left me because of their profession, they chose to work over a relationship.
And that's okay! Being a man, one has too many responsibilities, no one can fed by love and survive.
"Even to have sex you need energy"

Sometimes you have to let things go.. I have no grudges against all those eight men I dated. I just expected them to be dedicated as I was. They couldn't.

Some left me for flavor and taste. They had no feelings and after getting physically intimate, I am a woman, developed feelings.

So what do you expect from life now? Do you regret?
I asked.

She said, at times when I feel alone I do regret that I have wasted my life in search of this thing called true love.
I am not against love or relationship, maybe that's why I am into one..

I asked her further, what did you get out of all this?
She said , to be honest I got nothing but some memories, by the time bad memory fades and all you remember some good ones.. I have them with me..

I have friend and family, I work and earn good. I live my life and it is kind of a smooth one. She continued.

I learnt a lot and you have to learn Himmi.

Never blame men they have too many responsibilities because they live in a country where they are being taught to take up the burden since they get an erection.


Don't blame women even, it is okay to be in love.. And there's nothing to regret.
If you want to regret, feel guilty how you wasted the time by not being practical.
I am still not grown up and I still fight like a teenage girl.

But I never let my work affected. Hope you understood and I made sense!

Yes, love can fill your stomach but only for nine months.. I said with a smile.

We both chuckled and now I am heading towards Keventers in CP. Although I am desperate to go home and write my next article..

In Conversation with "Myself"

IN CONVERSATION WITH "MYSELF"
I took a sip of cognac with four cubes of crystal clears and asked myself, am I way too serious in my life?
My brows curled up and I closed my eyes, maybe I was fighting those tears to escape from the fencing lashes.
And they won as I opened my small black eyes stroked with the pink shades of loneliness.

I was sitting in front of me.
I felt like a jellyfish kissed my toes with its stings.. I saw myself.. Sipping the cognac, smile shining on my lips.
I stammered, "wh..o are you?"

She said "I'm Himadri"

Himadri? So.. Who am I? Asked I with a widened labyrinth of my pupil.

"You're.. You're actually nobody.." she looked down upon me and said, sipping more that iced poison.

"No.. n.. No.. I am drunk" I kept my glass on the table.

"Maybe" she sipped more..

I was glued to the couch, I looked deep down those soul penetrating eyes and submitted.

"What do you want? Why are you here?" I don't want to talk to anyone, please leave I am sad.

She made a little curve to the left of her lips and smiled "why?" 
I sighed, my eyes were searching for answers in my toes.. "I don't know.. I am kind of lost.."

"No, you are not, you have just deleted the number of your best friend from your list" said she, still smiling.
"Best friend? Who? I don't have! I.. I never had.. I.. " And I broke into tears..
"Do you feel alone?" She asked lovingly.
"No.. I don't.." I said convincingly

She rested her back on the couch and asked "what is it bothering you so much?"

"I don't know.. I just don't have any clue.. I am just in the middle of nowhere " I looked into her eyes, I had a puppy face.

And she broke into a laugh.. "Because you're leading your life to nowhere"

''What do you mean? Am I depressed?" I raised my eyebrow and asked her.

"Certainly not, But rather than Convince yourself that you are the best... You have turned your car on the path of convincing it to others.." She said.

"What do you mean? I never try to prove myself to others!! Do I?" I said, confidently.

Wow! So sure about yourself? She asked provocatively.

Yes, I am! Because I am focused in my life. I am not confused what I will do next. I have gained the best. People crave for opportunities and they knock at my door because I concentrate on my task without expecting the results.
All these achievements, my satisfaction , my inner peace are evident to me being myself.

I was speaking without a pause, as if I am fighting for my right. And she.. Listening calmly, sipping the cognac and smiling at me being hyper..

"Really? She asked sarcastically "Who are you?"
"I am Himadri" I said in a comparatively louder voice.

She put her empty glass of Cognac on the table, leaned a bit and smiled.

Welcome back!
I asked "what?"

She said.. "At times, we need ourselves, we have all the answers to our questions and at times we are troubled by the answers because we cannot question ourselves.
Nothing has happened to you, you're not alone, you're not lagging behind.
You are just trying to compete with the time.
People crave to have a life like yours, did you forget that?"

I kept listening to her..

Life like me? I am no Bill Gates! Just an ordinary girl, more of a student and a daughter.. I said.

"Yes! And people crave for a life like yours.. She said with a calm face.
"To be a student, to have parents, to be ordinary..
You get the food three times a day, you sleep on Dunlop, you wear expensive clothes, you can pay your bills, you can read books, you have the power of expression.. And above all you have all your senses working, a healthy and fully functioned mind and body..
Millions of people crave for it.."

I kept mum for some time..

"But.. Why to compare my life with incapable ones? Why not with those who hit the jackpot, whom I want to be?"
I said stepping towards the same disheartening chamber.

"Why do you compare at all?"

Her question made me blank!
I did not have an answer. I started looking nook and corner of my possible logic to support my answers but I failed..

"Umm.. Maybe that's how the world runs, everybody does it.. They crave for others lives, they feel jealous and get depressed by others achievements, they think and over think and cry for not having THAT life, even you said earlier, some people crave to have my kind of life"
I defeated her in argument, the table turned. The balls are in my court.. I smile thinking all this..

She pushed the empty glass to me, ordering, "fill it"
Why would I ? I asked to myself.

I felt egoist, proud and superior by turning the table and eventually I spoke " Do it yourself"

Hahahaha.. And she laughed at me..

I looked at her, confused enough "why would you laugh?"

"Those who compare eventually end up like you, when you compare to superiors, you fill yourself with the sense of being nothing and burn your wits in jealousy. And when you compare yourself to the lesser ones you blind yourself with ego and pseudo pride."
What did you get? You could not think logically! You couldn't be my friend! You couldn't make me your follower either or you couldn't take my guidance..

I looked at her with an open mouth and after a while, I said.. "This is not me, this was never me, who am I?"

And she said.. "You're Himadri"

She walked away and faded from my eyes.. I still had my glass full, raised level of cognac with the melted ice.
And it the glass contained all my dilemmas, questions and answers..

I found my answers in conversation with myself, I am my pathfinder, I am my best friend..

Why do they call the princess, a whore?

I was going through Indian Poetics and eventually I felt like holding a point blank gun to my head and blow it down..

The sthayi, rasa, the ornamentation of AlanKara,

The school of aucitya.. And many more..

We run after English not because it is a globally accepted language or we are trying to excel ourselves into the language of superpowers but because English is comparatively easier to analyze..

If I try to simplify the position of Hindi..

It's something like those new age girls who are highly qualified, belong to a royal family, have a polished intelligence level, royally mannered and well behaved in attitude that she doesn't find a man of her match . All these traits inherited from her mother, Sanskrit who chose the class of elites..

She frowns and disgusts upon all those less standard men..

And people criticize her just because they cannot get her.. They've no level even to stand and look into her eyes..

Fools, what she considers, others are..

Just because men can't reach her, she is inaccessible and unreachable, she cannot be 'Get Laid' easily, people have started calling Cheap, low standard, a sin to reputation, see it with the eyes of disrespect and disgrace, insult it, spoil it's elegance..

-A slut!!

And the naked fact is, this ideology is inverted, accepted and continued by all of us.. men to women to children to forthcoming generation.. Without questing it..

Hindi is like that princess who is so beautiful and talented that she is virgin till her eleventh hour..

She is virgin, pure and royal.. Hence unreachable and just because of this.. She is discarded..

Losers have called her Low-standard..

And we believed it, unquestionably!

Just like the position of females in our society , they are disregarded by the "male-ego" running like the blood into social veins because they're not easy to rule..

For example we call all Bollywood heroines the high class sluts just because we can't reach them..

N.B: by male-ego I don't mean the gender but the ideology of being superior. Please don't create fuss by making it an issue of battle between sexes.

The emphasis is upon the language not people.

Regards

Himadri

"Show me your tongue"

I love it when he wraps his arms around my waist from the back side, 
Rests his chin on my shoulder, touches his lips on my cheek and sometimes rubs his beard.. Kisses to my neck and smells my skin..
Hums nasally the instrumental of "tum aa Gaye ho.. noor aa gaya hai.."
And does nothing..


He leans over me because I am short and he is taller than me.. 
He puts his weight on my shoulders.. 
I can't see into his eyes, but I can feel his smile..
The serenity he finds in my body..
Sometimes he teases me pinching my bosoms and sometimes he frowns when I don't wear his crimson love..
And teases me "do chutki sindoor ki keemat tum kya jano meri jaanu"
I show him my tongue and frown at him..
He grabs me in his arms.. Tight and bound..
He: "Show me that tongue now"
I : tch.. na..
He grabs me more tightly that my heart can feel his giggling heartbeats.. 
Looking towards my lips he says.. "Show me"
I: iss.. erom koro na please. Onek kaaj kora baki.. (Don't tease me, have too much of the work)
 I say turning red, pretending and protesting..
He grabs me more..
And locks his soft lips with mine to bite that teasing tongue.. 

"The Fight"

I had a fight with 'S' last night. For no obvious reasons.
Maybe women are like this. Or maybe I am like this. I wanted him to understand the unspoken pain, which he cannot, no one can actually.
We did not talk last night and slept facing the opposite universes.
I missed his arms and the peace, it was a restless night.
Morning,
He left for the gym without intimating me, actually without the morning kiss.
I woke up and searched for him in the bed. I forgot I had a fight last night.
I could not find him. Rubbed my half opened-red eyes and raised eyebrows at the clock.
I am Late...
Recollected last night and frowned.. 'huh..'

Love is what - when we take care of each other in anger as well.
So, I prepared his favorite chicken sandwiches, not in my style but the way he wanted - slightly crisped chopped onions and tomatoes.
He came back and no expression on his face. Neither Angry nor Calm.
I figured out.. 'He is angry' because he straight away went to the bathroom to take a shower.
I did not say anything and indulged myself into domesticities expecting him to come back soon and have the sandwiches.

After a while, he entered into the kitchen.
Tooth Brush in the mouth and a towel wrapped up towel around his waist.
I felt someone was standing behind, so I turned.

Gawked at him with raised questioning brows to hit up his weird presence that time at that 'Fancy Dress'
He did not say anything, turned off the burner, clenched my wrist and schlepped me to the bathroom.
My hands were messed with mashed potatoes. I didn't say anything but was unascertained to his intentions.
He pushed me into the bathroom, came inside and turned on the chilled shower.
I gasped as the water chilled my nerves, gave me goosebumps and my eyes couldn't manage to open with the load of water on my eyelashes.

He came more near, under the shower and turned my face to the wall..
No words have yet kissed each other but he kissed my neck.
'Uh..' he didn't kiss but sucked my neck.
The chilled water of unwelcome march winters and his warm tongue wafted the current into my veins.
He threw his towel and touched his warm chest to my back. My eyes were closed and lips were abashed.
His big palms strolled through my T-shirt and he unhooked my bosom.
Struggling with my night suit he explored my body and I knelt down to be the 'pun' of punishment..
After all, he made me cry last night.. And women are to revenge..
A flabbergasted Tit for tat..

Yes, we made love.. And left all egos, anger, differences, annoyances and complaints.
I came out with a smile and some rosy marks over my neck and he had his charming smile in his twinkling eyes..

No, you need not to sit and discuss the differences every time you fight.. You need not to look down upon each other and blame for the pain..

You need not to "talk' to chalk out the compromising solutions..

All you need is to 'let the love rule'..

But yes, do keep an eye on ticking clock.. Because he got late for office today.. :)