“You tried so hard to not be a cliche. And that…,” he paused for effect and said with relish, “…is such a cliche.” He put the beer mug down with a smirk and looked at her.
Sitting under the small red hanging light, in the light-and-darkness of the cheap Chinese restaurant in Sudder Street, his face looked different. With his unruly hair that’s in stark contrast to his well-trimmed stubble and sharp words, he managed to stab her in the heart, yet again.
‘The root of all problems’, she stared at his stubble and pondered. He looks like a child fresh out of high school without it. But grow it back and it takes so long for her to come up with a counter. Such as… now.
The morning after a night of unplanned, impromptu, super hot tear-each-other’s-pants-off steamy sex can only go in two different directions. First, you smile sitting in an Uber Pool on your way to work, realizing only 5 minutes later that your grumpy co-passengers are judging you on a drab mid-week work morning. It doesn’t deter you. You feel so loopy in the head, so relaxed, so wanted. You continue smiling like an idiot in office sitting at the edit meet and can only visualize him naked, feel the touch of his lips grazing all over your body from the navel to the neck. Your toes curl and there’s a tingle in your stomach just at the mere thought of it. The nape of your neck feels a hot flush.
Revisiting the past can be a terrible thing. And yet, sitting with a mug of Old Monk and coke, a burning cigarette dangling through the lips, I do exactly that. Foolish? Or, poetic? Depends on the way you look at it. Sitting in my dark room, with the dim yellow light making crisscross patterns on my face, I see the happiness I once left behind. I reach out to it in my drunken haze; hopelessly and foolishly trying to hold on to something that’s long gone.
When you’re 29, either you’ve friends who’re married or who’re divorced. Some of them even have human babies added to that mix (well, ugh?). There are only a select few people in my team right now, you know, the unmarried ones who have no fucking clue about life. Don’t get our tribe wrong. We do want to get married someday and we are aware that our so-called biological clock is a gong at the moment, swaying dangerously around our ovaries as a constant reminder. But you see, I don’t believe in getting married for the wrong reasons.
“Wake up,” he said as he rolled over her side and kissed her mouth.
Morning kisses are an interesting amalgamation of oh-this-is-so-fucking-hot-I’ll-tear-your-pants-off and I-know-what-you-had-last-night. The room was dark and dreamy at 5 in the morning and she could see a silhouette of his face as she tried to crinkle her eyes open.
“What time is it? Ouch…Your beard,” she managed to gasp and talk while playing with his tongue.
“I’ll shave today. Okay?” he broke the kiss.
“No. It’s nice. Brings the poet out in you quite well,” she giggled while settling her head on his chest.
The snooze alarm began to ring. He promptly hit it off.
Science says, and not me, that marriages last due to two basic traits – kindness and generosity
The year is 2015 and we are robots. Well, not literally, but you get the drift. The world has become smaller, thanks to social media, but what has that done to us? Only made us go further away from each other in real life—quite an irony, isn’t it? Real relationships are crumbling, we are busier than ever, 24 hours are seeming less and divorce rates are only going up. Continue reading
To help you make the most of the time before letting the world in on your special secret!
You have finally confirmed the news with your doctor and you both have laughed, cried, shrieked and are feeling overwhelmed by the news. But you’d rather wait awhile before breaking the news of your pregnancy to the world. Here are 5 fun things you can do with your partner that can make the two of you come even closer during this magical hush-hush period! Continue reading
For the ladies who never want to cook a candle-lit dinner (there’s a reason god invented take-out, you know!)
Before I start writing this story, let me tell you a little bit about myself—I have never really been the sappy, romantic kinds. I mean yes, I love being in ‘love’ and I love everything that comes with being in a long, serious relationship, but I have never been someone who will go awwww on receiving a box of chocolates or dissolve in a puddle of mush on receiving flowers for no reason. If the chocolates are good, I’ll eat them even if they are in the shape of, I don’t know, spiders; and on most days, I think flowers are a dreadful waste of money and space. My idea of romance is a little, how shall I put it… Non-conventional. Which is where the idea for this feature came from. I’m so sick of all the boring advice that self-appointed experts have been peddling for years to us women. Truth be told, I’d sooner eat my own hand than recommend cooking as a romantic activity—even Cupid would wince and slink back to his corner quietly if he was exposed to the withering looks of Shanta bai as she surveyed the kitchen after the said romantic meal had been cooked! Continue reading
As the plane started moving on the runway, ready to take off, she glanced outside the window one last time. The vision was blurry from all the tears and smudged kajal—so all she could see were bright spots and a rain washed horizon. In the next few seconds, Bombay looked like a little piece of land owned by a rich farmer, sitting pretty by the beautiful Marine Drive. She clutched the Boarding Pass tightly in her sweaty palms, threw her head back on the seat and shut her eyes tight. Continue reading