Monday, August 30, 2010


Possessive love;

Staring at those admiring gazes at him

Cursing those sweet nothings to him

Massacring every one around him

Falls on his forehead

Disguised as kisses

Then to his lips

Lighting his heart

Burning the Amazon in his armpits

Making its way to

His insane love

In a rage

Rests back

In my heart.

Tuesday, August 17, 2010


When I say I'm pea-brained,
Could it be that
I'm overestimating the size of peas?

Friday, August 13, 2010


Who breaks butterflies on a wheel?

Who kills ants drowning in a milkshake?

Who burns trees caught in a fire?

Who poisons the breastmilk for a baby?

Who shoots at an injured soldier?

Who freezes ice?

Who kindles the sun?

Who darkens the night?

Who fakes facade?

Who begins the end?

He does.

Saturday, August 7, 2010


Exactly when you start getting over your male disgust and the estrogen-Vs-testosterone attacks, some pervert flaunts his elephant-trumpet-like rather yucky device and you get back to the same old "world-is-better-off-without-men" mode. Full on. But then, you think again. Think twice. Who will drive the cars and repair the gadgets fool? Oright. Let the men stay. But not with those i-respect-you-woman-i-stand up-whenever-i see-you device. And all those women who think you are gonna miss the "aaaah-oooh"s and "oh god oh god"s, FYI, fortunately or unfortunately the same God you call out has created you different from men. Unlike them you can do without sex. And if you are so desperate, tada heard about vibrators? OK OK I understand you're on a saving spree. Cucumbers and candles baby! If you are so so desperate!

Enough said! So the world is about men,creepy men who are so desperate. Desperate for you-know-what!!! And the way they walk, with arms casually swinging back and forth back and forth...Hey, don't think evil it's not like they're trying to touch your assets or something. You know they are very innocent people who are so laid back and contented that they just swing their arms while walking.Back and forth. Back and forth. And you regret for not learning gymnastics and badly wish for a MJ-like flexible body! If you are planning to spend on dance classes or something, give that money to charity because daily walks through our crowded footpaths can make you flexible enough even to win a competition . These "footpath men" can often become the epitomes of desperateness . You can't imagine this kind of desperateness that they don't leave out even my embarrassingly-flat ass! Pity them. Pity them.

Even worser are those hunchbacked appachans who can't even stand on their own, who can't even remember their names but who never forget to shake that out-of-shape(not pun intended OK)device with shivering hands whenever they see a female! You are left with no choices then because whatever you tell them, chances are they won't hear anything. So just HELL with them. The fun part is the absolute shock on the face of those middle aged lechers when you tell him "Chetta I've seen bigger" when they show their sausage. Seen it or not is another question.Nobody's business. But this definitely leaves them humiliated. And who wants to miss the chance of humiliating a sleazebag! Oh that word reminds me of the rickdrivers who get the nature's oops hormone's call ("the testicalls" gal)as soon as a girl gets in and shamelessly answers "the call" till you get down. And how i love that look on his face when you give a thums up and say "Chetta nice shake but too hard, make sure no one falls from the rick!" So big,bad, ugly,small,short,long,shaved ,unshaved( When they show it right in front of your eyes, how much ever you try not to look, the details get into your head) this sausage fest, horizontally proportional to Earth's gravity, seem to follow you everywhere that makes you wonder if you're living in Penisylvania!Lol!

The next set of shitheads are those who pass gross comments upon every chance they get.The kinds who would sing "Hey ya I see you walking through the street, hey ya why won't you strip all your clothes, hey ya i got to tell how horny i feel oh baby you're the only p**** for me, hey ya i wanna get closer to you, hey you i need to get a good f*** ....." and so on. And those who compliments my b***s, "BAKRA! These are the apples I shoplifted from More you fool! Considering the price hike can you blame me for it?" I'm sure this reaction leaves them tongue tied.

Then comes the spanking-the-monkeys or rubbing-the-rubbish kinds. On your back undoubtedly. The best answer for them is every girl's best buddy, hair claw. Safety pins, needles and pepper sprays are passé. It all gave way to hair claws. Even the lowest maintenance girl would walk around with a hair claw so when that clever dick rubs on you, why wait, give him a real bang! Put it on his oh-so-hard thing and hear him scream his throat out! May be he'll never be able to put his popstick into use! What's more exciting than this! This is the right kind of retaliation those jackasses deserve. Ain't it?

(These are the exact kind of claws needed)

All these and more, you still don't think it's high time to ban those DJs aka Dick Jockeys!

Tuesday, August 3, 2010


I bottled up. Pheelings. Thank yous. Welcomes. That's so nice of yous. So sweets. How are yous. Nice meeting yous. I like yous. You are greats. You rocks. Good lucks. Good mornings. Good evenings. Good nights. Good byes. Never-say-goodbyes. Had breakfasts. Had lunchs. Had dinners. Have foods. Take cares. Don't crys. It's all rights. I will pray for yous. I will do anything for yous. I wanna be friends with yous. I will never forget yous. You mean so much to mes. No matter what happens I will be with yous. I should be your one and only best friends. I don't want you to get close to anyone elses. You make a difference in my lifes. I miss yous. Why are you not talking to mes. Why din't you call mes. Why are you doing this to mes. I love yous. I hate yous. You are so fakes. You sucks. I'd rather eat shit than being friends with yous. You are a douche bags. You fame whores. You brand sluts. Don't be so fussy biatchs.Shut the fuck ups. To hell with the drama queens. OK OK now don't play Mother Theresa when you are obviously a tramps. My face is up there you assholes. Jesus Christ! you make wanna rip down your faces. Hare Ram Hare Krishna, you walk around so Sati-Savitri but you are such a hoes. Man if you are so horny put your dick in a toasters. F words. LOLs. LMAOs. ROTFLs. Tears. Tears of joy. Tear drop buckets. Pains. And sufferings. Pains in the ass. Pain holes. Pleasures. Pleasure moments. Pleasure modes. Senses failures. Sensitive grenades. Fancy schmancies. Faith hills. Hopes. Hopes in hell. Hopeless devotions. Care bear hugs. Careless moves. Carefree laughters. Anger issues. Happiness in cans. Joy jellies. Passion fruits. Love bombs. Love brownies. Love bruises. Crush jobs. Fling blings. Shame sticks. Shameless shits. Confused cherries. Turbulence. Disturbances. Disturbed seconds. Rage volcanoes.Warm beers. Crazy crackers. Fire bellies. Flaming showers. Hot ices. Deep blues. Emotional diarrheas. Quick fixes. Smart answers. Strong arms. Soul cancers.Cheesy delights. Mushy biscuits. Smile lines. Big time 'J's. Tilted heads. Dropped jaws. Turned heads. Skipped heartbeats. Goosebumps.Weakness at the knees.Sparkle in the eyes. Everything is bottled and sealed. I thought. Let it all out. Let the bottle open. But will it open? Never ever. Ever never. And I've put on numbness. Numb face. The bottle remains sealed. And everything still remains bottled.