Tuesday, December 29, 2015

NEITHER ABOUT MASTRAM NOR OF SAVITA BHABHI

The writer is not embarking on a sexual journey or a coming of an age story of a man whose libido grew with the rise in sell years of Mastram and decline with the coming of Savita Bhabhi. It is simply a conversation between two characters, a man baffling in his own life crisis saga and the woman he had solid lust on, she was a bottle of finest Scotch; every man would possibly like her.
He threw the bag on the floor and sat on the dirty rug. He felt old, fat, bald and ugly. He stayed positive reminding himself that like beauty everything in the world was overrated including sex. The dialogue had to follow, so it followed.
She: I still remember the day you gifted me a packet of condom. What a birthday gift, who gives that?
He: It was not an ordinary condom, it was a super expensive condom. It produces gold dust every time it hits the skin.
She: If you had the money to buy such expensive protections then why did you make me pay all our coffee bills?
He: Making you pay our bills was just a prank.
She: Those were bad pranks but the worst prank you pulled on me was the day when I was dying to have pan masala and you gave me Viagra, I had it and it was the bitterest stuff on earth. What if I died of Viagra overdose?
He- Are you hallucinating? Stop accusing me. Anyway, want to hear a story?
She- Is it about how you were caught reading Mastram? Is it about the incestuous relationship you read or want to engage in?
He- I am not guilty, as Page-211 of Sage of Wandering Mind says, ‘Mr. Forbidden intrigues and entices me the most.’
She- I didn’t say you are criminal. I am bored.
He- You mean I am making you bored. Why don’t you tell me one today?
She- Stories?
He- Yes!
She- Okay, sure! The story begins with the death of two playboys due to Viagra overdose. One is a self-proclaimed player, nevertheless, a player and the other is a sneaky player.
He- Sad, they did not get enough time to write a playbook else they could have died as celebrated writers. Never mind, continue.
She- They meet in the gate of the Hell and greets like a polished gentleman while on earth. An angle, not hot, just a creature with wings stood high, she pronounces the sentence,
To the Self-proclaimed Player- You must be feeling lucky to have met a woman who fitted in your ideological framework. But, deep down you are a lonely person, indeed an iconic moron. Instead of investing your time and energy on a woman who could widely get wild with you on the bed, you should have invested it on the woman who could have loved your truly and deeply. After the bangs when woman drifted and started falling for you, you ran away saying she was a deal breaker.
To the Sneaky Player- You lied to every woman you wanted to bang. Through high deceit, you were able to take every woman in the bed. You pretended to be loyal and kind.  As things done in darkness had to come to light one day, hence, you were caught.  Instead of being apologetic or ashamed of your act, you blamed the woman as ‘melodramatic’ and ‘emotional’.
Time for punishment, Hell will be more of a discotheque for you so you have been elevated to a much painful place.
He- Please don’t punish them.
She- Are you feeling sorry for those playboys? Had it been whorely seductress then the thing could have been different?
He- It could have been more interesting.
She- You know what will be more interesting? Sitting on your lap.
THANKS FOR READING THIS CRAP POST! See you later…

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