At midnight, my parents wonder why my brother isn’t home yet. Perhaps we should call him, my mother suggests.
As I yank clothes off the line, i reflect on their wonder and apparent blindness to the exhausting possibilities future held; i shan’t name the ones I mean for they aren’t the kind of things I’d wish upon anyone, much less my brother.
They wouldn’t have been wondering had it been me. Sirens for me sound within an hour or three in broad daylight. Had *I* not been back home by midnight, they would’ve torn the city apart in my quest.
Huxley’s world seems to have come to a mangled realization. Hordes of sexually crazed oafs looking for newsworthy ways to an end have begun picking women all-fucking-over the place like fat ruddy gnats.
Initially i assumed that fault lay with the country- most Indians will blush crimson and call your parents in heaven or in the infernal pits of their hellish abode to complain that you just uttered the s-word. How rude! Is this how you’ve been brought up?
The sexual repression theory is very widely accepted; it wins approval from Indians themselves. It surely has its merits. The land which authored the treatise on imaginative copulation and boasts of quite the number of topless chicks in stone grew bored of its reputation or whatever. So when middle age crisis struck, India turned its back to whatever it is that makes babies and decided to hump a dead economy and a weak rupee instead. Right. Turned their backs to baby manufacturing plants. And storks. Which deliver them.
But then Hollywood’s been pretty cool with stuff right (hello, Star Trek movie with its Victoria’s Secret moment)
Having barely attended two debates, my father is not very keen on (and rightly so) me travelling particularly with people he doesn’t know.
And I’m waiting for the world to notice. I cannot be the only one axing my travel/debating plans into. No siree.
But from what little I see on the internet of my girl friends, some of them are always in flux, trotting from one city to another locale and how.
No parents at home or what?
Pepper spray and Taekwondo have done little to assure my parents of my safety… even unplanned trips during lunchtime from my office to the nearby Dominoes outlet aren’t exactly welcomed by my mother.
Lunchtime, mom? Day?
I think females are getting the shorter end of the stick and no fun it is, dude.
How much longer till the female fraction of the country (isn’t even half) of India sits pulverised and twitching, pulling everyone and everything down because there is no way up?
Amelioration will remain a dream unless the many political guardians of India stop playing whack-a-mole during elections and partying like fucking beavers otherwise. Because we totally pay taxes for you to ride elephants and helicopters for nine months out of twelve.
Also, global warming. I don’t think the scientists were kidding. I feel queasy each time i want to switch on the air conditioner more frequently than the guy on the dance show goes all WHAT A CHUMMESHWARI PERFORMANCE!!!
Temperatures are unbelievably hotter. Another century and there will be unicorn scientists examining our ill-fated remains.