Himmilicious's Blog, page 24

Mocking The Flock

The mocking flock.

How unfortunate for an artist in India. I will not include the world, as I am not aware of the philosophy or I should say the 'followsophy'
The first review of a movie/book/painting or any work of art, deeply influence the rest of the reviews.
We do not read the book but judge it by its cover and keep on enchanting " Don't be judgemental"
You ask others "how is the movie?" and then your decision making power is marinated into the previous reviews.
If we take the burning example of Facebook, no matter how logical and sensible the topic is, the first comment ruins it all.
A few people come up with their own individual point of view.
You have not read Arundhati Roy/Shobha De/Salman Salman Rushdie, but criticize them for being Grotesque.
You have not watched/understood Fire or Black Friday but you are all up with black flags against Deepa Mehta and Anurag Kashyap!!
Even if you have read them, you are influenced by the the views of media.
So is the case with our society, almost in each and everything.. 
We are prejudiced for the newly married girl to be ill-charactered because one of her relatives crisply gossiped about her previous relationship.
Because the news channels said in January that 'Dhoni is a useless player' we all tweeted about his failure and some days back, 'Dhoni is the next God of Cricket'
It ain't an aggrieved or vehement porthole of a piqued artist, but a catechism, a question.. "Why can't we have our own, uninfluenced opinion?"

Fir Se Kahin...

घबरा सी जाती हूँ ये सोच कर मैं,
मेरे घबराए हुए चेहरे पे तेरा नाम न पढ़ ले कोई,
तेज़ साँसे, ये थर्थाते लब,
हलके से तुझे पुकार न ले कहीं,
ये सुर्ख लाली मेरी गर्दन की,
बयां न कर दे, बीती रात को
कैसे समेटूं खुद को बता,
शर्मा कर, बिखर न जाऊं कहीं,
तू तो पत्थर दिल है,
तेरा क्या,
साँसों को बाँध कर, कुछ इस तरह,
तुझे जाना था, तू ले गया,
अजीब बेचैनी है अब इस रात में,
आ, भर अपनी बाहों में फिर से,
तेरी कस्तूरी की महक से,
बहक न जाऊं कहीं

You're leaving them...

Scene 1 -
Dad : Son, I want to know your academic progress and your future plans. Let's sit and talk!
You : What? It's my own life. Please "Gyaan na baatein"
Friend : Dude, sup wid ya studies eh? wot's next?
You: Damn man.. I am fucked! You know.. blah blahblah blubh.. baalbh.. blublubbhaah..

Cut!

Scene 2 -
Mom : Why do you come home late? Why don't you help me in the kitchen? Why do you wear short clothes? You should....

You : (yelling and frustrated ) Please Maa, I am already screwed, Why the hell do you always disturb me? Do you even know about the society and today's fashion? Do you even go out and see what is the culture? I am not a maid, I have my own life with friends..
Boyfriend/friend : yaar, I am hungry..
You : wait baby, let me cook something ♥

Cut !

Scene 3

Lover/spouse : baby.. I am missing you.. Let's meet. I wanna make love to you.
You: I miss you too, Sorry I have to go with friends. Oh please you're always a sex maniac. Get some work, you're always free and get on my nerves. You're a loser. Yap! Yap! Yap!

Meanwhile a call : (leaving discussion in between) Oh hi..! Long time.. (Walks away)

Cut!

Friend : Hey. Long time.. Let's meet..
You: Oh yeah.. But sorry yaar, Busy these days.. Cannot get thim out of work.. We shall, soon..!!
You : Staying alone, whole day at home.. And not at all working..

Cut!

Well, there was no relation in above scenes, but yes a common character. “You”
What is my purpose of blahblahing this around? To draw “your” attention towards ‘You’

What are you doing? Technically “Leaving your loved ones and Running towards the unknown/new ones”
That’s a fact! How?

You hate your loved ones around, but because you are the social animals, you cannot be alone..
Yes!! You can cry and crib that “no one understands/loves you”
It’s you, who take out all your frustration on your family and friends? And frustration of what??
Trust me, You, yourself have no Idea about it!
Have you ever noticed how sweetly you talk to ‘others’ on the phone but how rude you are to your wife?
The way you treat your parents and how well you deal with people you meet ‘professionally’
How fast you change your ‘voice tone and facial gesture’

You are not same to everyone, that we can accept you as a frustrated-natured person!!

The point is : you behave like an unknown stranger to the loved ones and to the outer world, you portray to be the nicest-bestest-calmest-well-behaved-EST , This-EST and That-EST..
Yes, You’re earning the appreciation of others but how much your near and dear ones hate you.. you cannot count , dear!
The smile that your husband/wife deserves, you are gifting it to your opposite gender colleagues and boss.
The love that your parents and siblings deserve, you are giving away to your so called friends in charity.
The understanding your friends deserve, just because your inner conflicts and being fake, you’re losing them all...

Watch your actions.. In the process of socializing you are staking your real treasure..
- Family and Friends..

The Crimson Love

I smiled, was happy
Will meet him again,
After a long time..
Wore best of my lingerie
And the crimson saree,
I will commit the crimson crime,
I smiled and blushed to make my pouts pink
Perfumed myself to make him sink..
A bouquet of London roses
With a tag of Indian love..
I flew to him.. I am a dove..
....... .
I am shocked , I am dead
Skipped my beats
Who is she? With those black beads..
He is back in town
Married and bound..
I smile, I sink
The perfume and my pink..
Our eyes rendezvoused
I am crimson, still..
The color shifted to eyes that kill..

https://soundcloud.com/himilicious/the-crimson-love
After a long time, I tried making my audio blog..
:-/ bad sound quality.. sounding too heavy.. 
I must find some way to improve it... 

"She Rendezvoused with her Chimera"

"She Rendezvoused with her Chimera"

Chapter One : Not so Fatso.. “You are late, sweetie”
Said Nivedita and spanked my ass to greet, the way she always does. I am eulogized for my round butts and curly long hair.
 “Uh.. Late? I am a woman, I take the time Honey” I said with the old college days winked smile.
“Aahan..” she said in a very enticing voice, And we both chuckled.
‘Where is our gang’ I probed as no one else came to receive me.
‘Oh.. They are inside, waiting for you. ‘They Should have come outside.. I frowned. 
‘Kanishka, they are men.. And its India Versus Australia, Riddhi and Sonal are in the kitchen, Namit is busy with Bruno and Here I am...”
She gabbed while entering in the house.

Nivi belongs to an affluent family but she is really down to earth and maybe this is the reason we enjoy each other a lot. I know her since my college days; She was my classmate, my roommate and my bed-mate. 
Everyone considered as- lesbians and we used to ‘show off’, yes, we are... It was fun. But only we knew and a few friends that we were just best friends who were not shy to change clothes in front of each other.
Girls are nasty, shameless and too vulgar when they are open, unlike men. We don’t shy at our size. We can talk about anything and yes, we share nasty fantasies.

Nivedita is married to Abhishek, her one and only crush since college days, I remember “shake it baby” tease; we used to poke Abhishek with.
Namit – a six years cute boy, intelligent and extremely gorgeous, resembles his Mother. He loves his dog Bruno, the furious Saint Bernard.
Yes, Nivedita is a gorgeous lady. I always hated her for a strong metabolism.
I breathe and gain weight but she can survive upon pizzas and that cheese dipped Double chicken patty burger, her favorite and mine craves! Slurp!!

We entered in the room, she ordered her servants to take my luggage to the Guest room, adjacent to hers. Bruno started barking before I could breathe. I looked at Nivi’s face to save my soul. Nivi understood the SOS alert and asked Its caretaker to take it out. I gasped.
“I still hate dogs” said I apologetically.
“I know” She smiled. I love this shine on her lips, calm and understanding. ‘I love her’  and I smiled too, at our Friendship..

“Shake it baby” I spoke aloud to distract the eyes of Abhishek from his LCD.
“Hey! Kannu.. And he paused the match, warmly welcomed me with a bear hug.
“Look at you girl, you have reduced, where are those Ubigbigigly? Miss.Fatso?
I raised my brows and punched his abdomen “screw you”. We all chuckled.

Namit came running and hugged me from back, wrapping himself all around my waist. I turned and kissed him on Forehead.
“How was the journey fatso?”
“Don’t call her fatso..” A baritone hit my eardrums and I looked confused at Abhishek.
‘Ah.. meet my cousin, Rachit, Said Abhishek.

A tall, well build, French- bearded man headed towards us. By the time Riddhi- Abhishek’s younger sister came and wrapped herself around Rachit
“My brother is a doctor in AIIMS” She said with a pride, showing off her love towards him. We all chuckled at this.
Rachit ruffled her hair and smiled at me “ Hi..”
I Blushed and shook hands. He had beautiful big and soft palms.
We all headed towards the seating area and after a long journey all the way from Goa to Delhi, I rested my ass.
Sonal- Riddhi’s best friend joined us with smile and the maid came with some tea and eatables.
“ So, miss not so fatso..” How’s life? It’s good to see you after a couple of Years..
I wrapped my arms around Namit and rested my chin on his shoulder, touching his Soft, pink cheeks.
“Life is great. Yes, It has been more than two years..” And I looked at Nivedita lovingly with a smile.

_________ End Of Chapter One________________________________




 

Why do we call a princess - 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 more easy to analyse..
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 criticise 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 stated calling Cheap, low standard, a sin to reputation, see it with 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 yo 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 female 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..

P.s 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
Himmilicious

The Unstoppable Beast

I smiled at each of his steps heading towards me. 
I could feel the warmth of my body and the demand of navel.

He came near me and looked deep in my eyes. My lips craved for the bitterness of his nicotine marinated saliva. 
He has unique style of smooching that binds me, when he sucked my tongue slowly but gives his deep in my throat.. Exactly the way I play with his little boy which is not so little..
His eyes scanned me and stopped at my neck.
The Beauty spot.
He bent down a little and licked my neck. His tongue injected the drugs to my veins as he grabbed the flesh around my waist and pulled me near.
I could feel how hard he was and probably he read the unspoken desires of the juicy strawberry.
We were standing and he lifted me up. My bosom were inviting his tongue solve the quest.
He kissed my belly and rubbed his face. More up.. He lifted me and tongued my navel.
How easily I fitted into his arms.
He sucked my navel that tuned the best music and I pulled his hair to come out of that unbearable pleasure.
The increasing palpitation of my love-leaves making me go wild and I groaned looking deep in his eyes.
He threw me on the bed and undressed my beautiful white thighs to bite them..
Long well shaped legs were his turn on and I have already kiss-opened the unstoppable beast..

What A Life.. I desire.. I have..

Done with PhD  Dwelling among all certified intellectuals having different hobbies and interest. Not many but a few mid aged DU-JNU friends and some early grown up youngsters around. Sleeping late at nights and waking up around 11 am, leaving the bed after 1 pm though.. Staying alone in an apartment and sometimes a friend drops in. Cooking anything and almost every less time consuming eatables and sometimes ordering pizza to survive.
A maid to look after the clothes, home, and messed up kitchen who eats up brain every month for some weekly offs and hike in payment and eyeing on those old pants to be gifted..
Not at all interested being into relationships but it is never a no to the charmed ones..
Not much of bank balance and sometimes some freelance to keep the account Alive..
A nokia basic handset on the table and an interesting I phone attached to mac book.

Those beautiful grey covering the side locks and short cut manageable hairstyle.
No blinking wardrobe but some basic floaters and some casuals and some tees.. A muffler and that old basket..

A packet of cigarette following like shadow and chilled beer sometimes with a gorgeous company..

Sure for the thing not to do in life and unsure for the things to do..

Sometimes lost and disconnected from world and and sometimes just bag pack and road trip to hills all alone..

Some budding and chirping beauties with young skin and hypnotic fragrance to go wild in the bed.. And sometimes taking care of them while they live their lives like kids..

Smiling over their possessive behaviour and day by day increasing demands especially when they can be shut down anytime anyways not caring for their twinge..

Books.. Caffeine.. Liquor.. And laziness..
The itch of writing and hunger for reading..

What a life.. I desire.. I have..A maid to look after the clothes, home, and messed up kitchen who eats up brain every month for some weekly offs and hike in payment and eyeing on those old pants to be gifted.. Not at all interested being into relationships but it is never a no to the charmed ones.. Not much of bank balance and sometimes some freelance to keep the account Alive.. A Nokia basic handset on the table and an interesting I phone attached to mac book.
Those beautiful grey covering the side locks and short cut manageable hairstyle.No blinking wardrobe but some basic floaters and some casuals and some tees.. A muffler and that old basket..
A packet of cigarette following like shadow and chilled beer sometimes with a gorgeous company..
Sure for the thing not to do in life and unsure for the things to do..
Sometimes lost and disconnected from world and and sometimes just bag pack and road trip to hills all alone..
Some budding and chirping beauties with young skin and hypnotic fragrance to go wild in the bed.. And sometimes taking care of them while they live their lives like kids..
Smiling over their possessive behaviour and day by day increasing demands especially when they can be shut down anytime anyways not caring for their twinge..
Books.. Caffeine.. Liquor.. And laziness.. The itch of writing and hunger for reading..
What a life.. I desire.. I have..

Dad, A pathfinder.

Although we interact less due to time constrain and odd time schedules of work, yet talking with dad on dinner table is a feed of wisdom. He has always been a pathfinder to me. Whenever I'm confused, don't know how he gets to know and come with some words that pull me out of the depressing dilemma.

Many things he clarified me.

There is always a difference between being a reader and a writer, when you reach puberty, you reproduce. REPRODUCE ORIGINAL! Don't get influenced by particular established author or genre, you will just come out with "Junior XYZ Bhagat" or another 'chick/ladlit'  Be yourself..!

There is a big difference between writing and expressing. Anybody can write but how many can identify themselves in your character or story, or how many can 'understand/interpret' you exactly the way you want?  that counts!

Then the silly question that always haunts me, popped up.
".. but dad, writers are mushrooming these days, every next IITian and IIM is upcoming writer, it feels like it has transformed into Author-Making Institutes. How will my work survive? They name their 'baby' before fornication and a huge crowd 'Like/follow' them, their work sells and they become A-U-T-H-O-R  of several books.. and.."

"Who read them?" That matters! Father continued.
There is a thing called "standardization". Is your work read by those pseudo-readers who flip pages and skip the words because they are lazy to consult dictionary? Those, who always carry a Paul Coelho to look 'Intellectual' No matter they have read it on Wikipedia?
Yes, They are published and sold because if every next literate person is a writer, then every PCO is the next publisher. or an outcome of "Self-Pleasure-Self-Publishing" aka Masturbating Writer?
They are into money making business. Are you published by "Chaman Publishers" or the worldwide Standardized publishing houses?
Again There is a difference in "BRAGGING" and "PROMOTING"
Bollywoodification or Commodification of your work by selling book cover printed  T-shirts or creating fraud contest on facebook only shows that your work needs crutches because of its lameness. Know it! Don't degrade yourself and your art.
They do not survive more than a span of a bubble. Quality matters not quantity.

Is it Language or Slanguage? I don't scowl when BBC disparage our new literature.
and then the Father lecture started, you waste your time on facebook.. you are not concentrating on your goals.. you have degraded your form.. what is bothering you.. we provide you with all comfort.. you are not a kid now.. you are this wdhcnklnvlbvjdb.. ajbcbcuaegfuig.. @#$%^&*(0...

..but dad I love to share my thoughts..

if this is the case.. shall I talk about your marriage to that aunty's son whom you saw in recent marriage, the skinny one with spikey hairstyle, red shirt and pants showing his butt-line..?

I turned my face to the advertisement of 'madhunashini or sandhisudha' and concentrated on 'Rajma-Chawal'.....

Morning Love #2

..When he's horny, then He Is HORNY.. unstoppable and wild. Maybe he loves when I protest in the bed. I always tease him by saying "horny ko koi nahi taal sakta"
Somewhere down the line no matter how much I protest I love it. I love it when he wins over me. I love it when makes me submit. I love it when he dominates me.
No mercy I expect. I've enjoyed him the way sine we got married. Pure animal instinct he has.
A wolf..
He loves when my eyes go red as he gets inside me. He gives me pain in a pleasurable manner..
Biting the softest part of my bosom is like that..
Early morning today when I was sleeping hiding my face in his chest.. his hands softly moved on my flesh.. It alarmed for a wild morning. He whispered in my ears..
"Archie.."
"Hmm.."
"Archana.."
"Tch.. hmm.."
I didn't want to move or wake up..
"Come na Archie.. ride me"
"Unnnnh.."
and turned my face to the other side of universe..
My mistake! Bad choice I made. My fleshy butts touched his wiener and it works like a magic wand.
My butts are his turn on. He spanks them a lot. Small, round and fleshy.

And now he didn't seek permission.
He pulled my lower down and came over me.
I hate kissing in the morning. I can't.
As he got over me I smiled but didn't move..
The way he runs his pores on my inner thighs and in my weakest part makes me turn on.
The smile assured him that I'm ready and without losing a pulse he came between my legs and slid himself in..
He's always more hard in the morning as compared to the other parts of day. I know my husband. And I wait for these special mornings..

A gasp. He's in. I felt. I pushed him back. He's in, more in. His bites, on my neck. He sucks and pecks. His strokes , sometimes hard and slows to the card.
He's spread all over me. In me out me. I'm covered and hidden. He didn't stop. He is wild and is gentle. He is fast as the panther.
Now I'm high. I want it more. Not in sleep, he is sure. Eyes are open looking into his.
And the pain.. when I go stiff..
When he holds me and high I go.
.. the moment when we go low..
We are wet..
His crave is dead..
He sleeps over me I wrap him around..

Love you baby" he again whispers in my ears and I smile " morning"
".. yet more two hours left for our good morning baby"

And we sleep again.. I'm amazed to say that two hours.. the most peaceful..