Women

I was a just-born and she was Twenty-Five,
Though we were we, we were one.
I would cry out in Latin and she would respond in Greek,
I would learn nothing but she never got tired to teach.

I was surrounded by monsters eager to pull my cheek,
but they would vanish the moment I was wet and weep.
She would come running and hold me in her arms,
as if I had won the contest of the charms.

Now I was able to walk and chew,
and hey, I was two.
I and she could now understand each other,
I was her everything and she needed no other.
I would try to walk and fall down,
But knowing she was with me,
the fear of getting hurt was now gone.

We still could not converse that effectively,
But she would understand my needs so easily.
I could now roam about free,
because now I have turned three.

I was ready to join a new world,
my academic life was now gonna mould.
She would dress me as best as a prince,
but when I would come back,
she would need at least an hour to rinse.

I was now able to talk,
I was a ferry and she was my dock.
I still remember the child, whose shirt I had tore,
Hey buddy, I have turned four.

I now came home a little late,
Nevertheless finding her waiting at the gate.
She would hug me and carry me in her arms,
it felt like flying through the farms.

We now did the homework together,
I would spoil the home and she used to work.
Years passed and now I was fifteen,
and with each year I would forget to lean.

I wouldn't care for what she said,
because now I had become mean.
She would ask me to study for a good future,
but I was busy in a different culture.

Now I had many shes in my life,
I dreamed of having one of them as my wife.
I changed a lot which she did not teach,
She would try to hug me but I was out of reach.

She still waited for me at the gate,
but I would look at her with utmost hate.
She would be awake till late in the night,
because I wasn't home, I was in a fight.

She had so much to scold, but she never did say,
hoping to find me better the next day.

Time went on and now I am grown,
lost in the world of my own.

I and she, between us have a river,
I have left her for my career.
When I was young, for me, she sacrificed her ambitions,
but I don't care, I now have my own mission.
I am not with her now, I am in a different city,
she is so old now but I don't even pity.

She needs me now but I am nowhere to find,
in the race for appraisal, I have become blind.
In a few years from now, I will be two,
there will be in my life someone new.
Then I'll forget even to bother,
I am her son and she is my Mother

Doesn’t this explain a lot? A true journey of a woman from someone else’s point of view. Her other life. Her Son/Daughter. A woman dedicates half of her life for someone else’s cause. She always does. When she is young, she makes sacrifices for her boyfriend. When she gets married, its her husband. When she has kids, her life ends right there. She dedicates the rest of her life for the upbringing of not just her kids, but the family as a whole.

Yes we men go out and do the “hard” work. Yes we toil “15 hours” a day at times just so that we can make that extra buck to buy that one thing for our kids. But imagine, spending 20 hours a day keeping the house clean, making breakfast for everyone, taking the kids to school, Paying the bills. I’d rather work by the roadside picking up stones than do all of that. Sorry we just can’t do that. And if you think, nahh that’s all too easy, try carrying a baby in your fat belly for 9 months. Try eating for it, sleeping with it, taking extra care just for it. Dude, accept it, we can’t. I always find myself to be extremely “lucky” to be born as a man and not a woman because no matter how mentally strong we men are; only a woman can do that. Only she has the mental strength to go through the pain of labor, the pain of letting her husband be a dickhead, the pain of her kids growing up disrespecting her.Only she can put up with it with it whilst still not shying away from her so called “duties”.

You might wonder what the hell has gotten into me, but I had to make this very clear some or the other day. I had to elucidate when a few days ago I got into a petty argument with one of the girls on my friends list on Mark Zuckerberg’s revolution called Facebook which by the way provides so many opportunities for me to vent out my frustration at dickheads talking obscene politics and general gender specific gibberish. But after misunderstanding my joke, the argument went to a point where I had to explain the woman that I wasn’t a dick or a Male Chauvinist Pig as they love to call it. Anything but that. She got the point across successfully or not is another story but I there wasn’t enough place or privacy there on the status updates to explain her the real situation. I promised her a blog.

This is for all of those so called gents out there who think the world doesn’t go beyond their intelligence and to all those women out there who think Cinderella is real. Sorry people, Disney has fucked with your brains all too much for you to smell the real thing. Life isn’t all that much of a beautiful journey when it comes to relationships. As I have said it again, let me reiterate, there is no real love. Don’t be daft and throw names like Shane West, Mandy Moore, Gerard Butler, Hilary Swank etc on my face. Don’t take movies for real. Take inspiration from it, don’t enact it in real life. There is nothing more stupid than doing what a guy did on the teli for a cool million dollars. There is no selfless deed in this world. You love someone which you mistake for attraction. A guy loves a girl because she looks beautiful. A girl loves a guy because he looks beautiful. Let me tell you something, there is nothing good or beautiful in this world, a beauty of a thing lies in your ability to appreciate it. I might find a red rose beautiful while you might find a yellow one better. Does that mean the red one is less beautiful than the yellow one & vice-versa? No it isn’t. Our point of view differs. The point is, would you love the same rose when it dries up? When it has lost its charm? No You wouldn’t, you’d go for the next one or a new one. Explains a lot doesn’t it? This is how we humans think. I detest snakes while my friend loves it to the point where I doubt he has sex with it when no one’s around. Awful? Sounds so, but for me, not for him!

I had a friend or rather have a friend who I wouldn’t name here. He has a simple philosophy - to have sex with as many girls as he can. Whatever he gets in his plate, he’d bone it. Fair enough. Nothing new you might say. This is what we men are all about aren’t we? But then comes the real bolt from the blue. He says he would expect his wife to have never had sex before when she gets married to him. A virgin. Bummer? He says he’d not let his wife wear skimpy clothes or put on too much make up. He’d not let his wife to go out and party much. I bet he’d kill every guy his wife talks to. Bless his friends. So I questioned him about the fairness of this all and he had a simple answer too. He said offcourse we are men, we are allowed to fuck about but she’s a woman, she can’t do that. I didn’t feel like arguing about it as I felt there was no point in arguing with someone who has such clear thoughts about how things should be.

I met someone recently who said to me, to bed a girl you don’t need good looks or a lot of notes with the queens portrait on it. All you need, he expertly said, is a bottle of cheap champagne and “coke” worth a few quids. How magnificent! Or rather, how efficient. This is our attitude towards women. We weave such a stronghold around them that they get emotionally hooked onto it and don’t want to leave us ever again. We’re good at it. Not just us but women are not too far behind in this game of love. We always act all goody goody to the girl. Buy her expensive gifts, flowers, talk hollywoodish to get into her pants. Fast forward a few weeks/months and she is so emotionally involved that you are sure no matter what you’d do, at the most she’d be pissed for a few days but she won’t dump you. Acts eitherways but it’s the truth. Wouldn’t you rather have a guy who is as crystal clear (rude or not) to you from the beginning that the one who talks like Shah Rukh Khan initially and starts fading into Shakti Kapoor? Why would you feel embarrassed if a guy tells you a dirty joke. Don’t tell me girls don’t watch porn or read adult jokes. We are not in high school. I hate people who are pretentious. Of course there is a fine line between being filthy and being a sport but always acting like a princess is going to fetch you no-one but a guy who is good at being a knight in shining armour…till he beds you. Stop it don’t argue, but that is the truth. Not all men are like that you’d say. But try and find one who isn’t and lets see what is easier, finding a honest bloke or shooing away a wanker! I am not over-generalizing.

Lets not blame it on the guy though, unfortunately we lot are ruled by our testosterones most of the times than the neurons. We see a hot girl, we’re going to look at her. Doesn’t matter if we’re married or single, with a woman or not. What matters is how we react after it. Dropping the jaw and lusting your tongue out when you’re with your girlfriend/wife is not going to score you any good points. But at the same time, just because he looked and appreciated her beauty doesn’t mean he’s a total disaster either. Nature is weird, we can’t help it.

So all I am saying to you women and men out there is stop being stupid and be a sport. Its that simple. Flirting and boning isn’t the answer to every question.

Btw Lets clear up the Cinderella Story while we are at it for all you women out there:

Cinderella: The Real Story.

Cinderella is forced by her bitchy stepmother to clean the house from stem to stern every day. The only thing that prevents her from swallowing a bottle of pain killers is her belief that someday her dreams will come true.

One day Cinderella plans to attend a ball thrown by the prince, but the fact that she has a cutthroat bitch for a stepmother completely slipped her mind. She is forbidden from going.

Luckily, it turns out Cinderella has a fairy godmother, who uses her magic to hook Cinderella up with a ride, a beautiful outfit and a pair of what would seem like grossly impractical glass heels. In the whole fucking kingdom, none had the same shoe size as Cinderella's. But anyway, at the ball Cinderella uses her innate flirting skills and rocks the prince's world, to the point that the next day the prince whisks her away to be his princess.

The Supposed Message: Dreams do come true!

The Actual Message: If you wait around long enough, the universe will practically hand stuff to you.

"Could you fix my credit score while you're at it?"

Explanation: No one is denying the fact that Cinderella's life was one big shit stain. But in her state of mind, she actually thought that her dreams would just sort of happen if she sat around being miserable long enough. It never occurred to her that she had the ability to just tell her stepmother to go fuck herself.

Instead she kept scrubbing floors and believing that, if she continued to wish very hard and take absolutely no action, everything would fall into place. And what do you know, the bitch gets a fucking kingdom out of it.

So don't worry, girls. Some kind of "Fairy Godmother" will sweep into your life at any moment, and find you a man to take care of everything. Just keep wishing!

PS. I’d appreciate your honesty in the comments section. If you are too incensed with it or argue over it, you may wish to email me and vent it all out. Cheers! ;)

Aal iz Well

Aal Iz Well

So, here we are, finally re-boarding the blogging flight which I left adrift a while ago.

When you least expect it, things happen. Karma’s a bitch. A good one in a sense. It left me with a bittersweet feeling over the happenings of the past few days. Hauled me back a little on the path of the supreme experience called Faith and Belief. No I am not out of my senses or thinking with a glass in my hand. I just felt the uncontrollable urge to share this one. I had to.

Let’s roll back a little. People who read this blog know what had ensued in my life over the past 9 odd years so I would let you off the emotionally-drained hook. I resembled a boat losing its anchor overnight drifting unattended in the sea with no direction. I had lost faith and hope and only prayed because I was scared. A god fearing person one might say. I never thought I’d get it back. But after this Thai excursion, I might say I did, I really really did.

Thailand: Prelude

I had come to India this time after merely 4 months since my last trip for the only intention of going to Thailand. But ever since I arrived, things just couldn’t work out. Someone had an exam, someone’s parents won’t let them go and some had a job they just couldn’t get a break from while some numb nuts didn’t even have a passport. After a lot of pleading to my earthly friends, I finally managed to sell the idea to 2 people. But eventually due to some really wild uncontainable circumstances, Sagar dropped out at the last minute and Me and Sanket embarked upon this journey by ourselves.

After the dropout of Sagar, we left for Mumbai late in the night and reached Mumbai at around 1 am on the 4^th. The moment we landed there and the driver left us, I realised I had forgotten my photos for the Thailand Visa. I enquired a few places at the Airport and was informed that there was no photo booth in the airport or anywhere close by. We called the driver back again and went on a mad hunt to see if there was any photo studio open at that godforsaken hour. After checking with so many different people unsuccessfully I decided to take a chance and returned back to the Airport hoping to see if we could get something done at the Kolkata Airport where we had a 2 hour stop.

When we reached Kolkata, I enquired at the Kingfisher office and was bluntly told that they had no clue as to what one could do if one doesn’t have a photo for the visa and had no idea what so ever as to the whereabouts of a nearby photo studio. So we ran and grabbed a taxi driver who assured us that he would bring us back in less than 40 mins to the airport with our photos. We took the chance.

25 mins later, only 100 meters in our journey to the so called magic photo booth, stuck in the noon Kolkata traffic, I gave up. My hope diminished and I thought of going to Thailand without the prerequisites of a Visa Photo and take my chances ONCE again.

The whole journey was miserably spent wondering and calculating the damage that I would have to suffer financially and emotionally if the Thai happened to kick my ass back to India for not coming along with the right documentation. But it wasn’t all the bad after all.

In Thailand, the immigration process wasn’t all that arduous and right next to the Immigration Desk was a photo booth nicely situated with a very helpful young lady offering us better conversion rates than the Money Exchange Counter right next to her. I got my photos and the whole misery was lifted off my mind like luggage off a knackered donkey.

I wouldn’t go deep into what happened over in Thailand over the next three days but I’d jump straight to the day of the departure.

Thailand: Revelation

Until we boarded the flight from Kolkata to Mumbai, everything went quite straightforward.
The real fun started when we left for Mumbai. I have a serious problem of sleeping in means of transport. No matter how tired I am, I can hardly ever manage even a quick nap in a Bus, Car, Train or even the comforts of a Plane. But that day I somehow managed it. I have serious flying phobia. I hate flying from the bottom of my heart. And even after that being my 22^nd flight, things weren’t any easier.

After somehow managing to go to sleep, the plane shook vigorously. Lights flickered, bags bumped and people gasped. The scene was right out of a Hollywood flick. There was no immediate visible panic but I could sense the tension. The shaking of the flight didn’t stop and it went on and on as if I was sitting in a suspensionless car driving on a really bad road. The turbulence was immense and I just couldn’t take my eye off the Air hostess who looked entirely out of her senses. The striking face which looked so admirable not more than an hour ago looked horrifying because of the fret it protruded. The flight bent left and right and just wouldn’t stay straight. It was like an arrogant crying kid who wouldn’t budge if he wasn’t given a candy. I was scared to bits. There was no announcement of any sorts.

30 minutes into the ordeal and way past our expected landing time, we were still in the air experiencing mindless turbulence and no communication of any sorts at all from either the cabin crew or the pilot. I was curiously checking the news before that and it showed of two breaking news. 1 Two Planes colliding midair killing all 3 in Colorado, USA; & 2. A possibility of Terrorists on a Dubai bound flight from Mumbai. Both news shook me as the flight’s interactive map on screen kept on showing the expected time to destination change from 19 minutes to 16minutes and again back to 24 minutes, 19 minutes, 16 minutes and back on to 25 minutes. The Flight kept on circulating in random circles for a while fluctuating the times on screen. The entire experience had me reeling.

And then, at one such vigorous wobble, everything stood still. I thought it was all over. It made me nauseas. I felt this was meant to be. It all made sense. Flickering lights, running airhostesses, panicked fellow travellers, turbulent flight, everything was just right. And then it happened. Time Froze. My entire sad little life passed in front of my eyes. A well projected long film that had a running time of 25 years but finely edited into those acutely small seconds. It was like a time warp. A quick flash! It didn’t portray me that entire well. So many things that never crossed my mind, which I had forgotten, which I had locked into that small little box and hidden it in the deepest bottom of my mind had unlocked and sprayed its ugly truth onto me. Times I failed to live up to expectations when I really should have. Things I did which I shouldn’t have done. Shameful little secrets I kept. Everything that was supposed to be dealt with that I didn’t bother with crept out like an ugly creature out of the Jungle. Nothing was fake or false. It was as if someone reminded me of all the things that had happened in my life. Everything started going in kind of a slow motion with both childhood and adult memories I had not thought of rushed through my head. I knew I was going to be a dead duck in a few minutes time.

But then somehow we just kept going onwards. After a while the overtly gorgeous Yana Gupta eventually showed up on the screen informing us of the landing procedures. When we finally touched down, I felt a sense of calm like never before. I spoke to the airhostess while disembarking and she said she had never felt anything like that before and it was probably terrible weather. I further pushed her on about not informing us regarding the delay in landing and she just said, don’t worry Sir, All is well!

I know people say your life flashes in front of your eyes just before you are going to die. But I feel this was Gods way of enlightening me of what was meant to be done and how serious I have to get about all these unfinished businesses of mine. I feel gutted at being a failure but also glad at being safe and sound and going through the experience of being awakened to the realities of life. Karma or no Karma, God is omnipresent. It is just up to you to feel him. Talk to him. Sense him. I need him with me for the rest of my life.

I woke up the next day, went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror reminding myself to the famous quote: Today is the first day of the rest of my life!

God is great. And I am utterly sorry if I ever doubted his Presence.

My flights wayward journey.

Foot-boll(ocks)!!

Champions of England! Champions of Europe! Champions of the World! Winners of the Carling Cup!

Venue: Old Trafford.

Attendance: 75569

Opponents: Liverpool

Scoreline: Manchester United 4 - Liverpool 1 (Oh O! I mean the other way around.)

Disaster! Katastrophe! Calamité! Desastres! Or in simple Indian - BHENCHOT!!!!

How did this happen? Or like the way Richie says to one of his sidekicks in The History of Violence - How did we fuck that up? I just can't believe it!

We were 7 points clear with a game in hand and at the top of the table. Crusing in true sense. Then came the scousers beating their drums after a fantastic win against Real Madrid in the Champions League. And did we not FUCK it up? Yes, we got beat 4-1. But it was more about our defensive shambles than Liverpool's offense. The same defense which is the base for our push on 5 fronts this season. Vidic's schoolboy errors handed them 2 piss-easy goals. And the scousers had the bext 2 weeks in recent memory. Although, as Steve Gardner mentioned in his blog on Manutd.com, they tend to forget that we had the the best 2 decades. 

I never in my worst nightmares thought we would lose so badly. Losing against Liverpool always hurts. Losing 4 goals to 1 is even bad. And that too at Old Trafford is just catostrophic. I was fortunate to escape the stick from my liverpool supporting mates in India as I was on my way back to London that day. 

The result was a one-off. Or that's what we thought. We all were expecting a backslash against Fulham at Craven Cottage. We even pitied the poor Whites or Cottagers as they love to call themselves. Roy Hodgson even gave an interesting statement before the game when it sounded defeat even before the game started. He said Chelsea and Liverpool should expect no favours from Fulham when they visit. Although it sounded like a white flag before the battle, it seemt more out of Fergie's books if anything. 

We played absolutely rubbish in the first half but upped the tempo in the second half and should have got away with atleast a point. Both results show us in a very poor state altough we played quite outstandingly, arguably. But then we did come away with 3 points when we weren't at our very best previously in the campaign. Sir Alex kept on hinting that we would drop points at some point or the other. Even he would never have imagined we would come true to his words against the scousers. The players have had a fantastic season so far bar the last few games. Vidic has been outstanding. He has just had one bad game and I am sure he will come up with the goods come the rest of the season. We would miss Rooney, Scholesy and Vidic against Villa. But I think our squad is big enough and I believe we can cope with it for the next few games.

What next? I have no bloody idea. I am losing my sleep over it. I want the premier league desperately! At any cost! We cannot afford to drop any more points. Coming away with 3 points against Villa is vital to show everyone that it was a one off week. We always make it hard for ourselves, we always do. This is the 18th! This is the season when we knock the scousers off their fecking perch. I dont want to lose this one. I can't imagine how much the scousers would love it to rub it in for years to come if we bottle this one up. I dont care about the Champions League or the FA cup for that matter. It was always an unrealistic expectation to win 5 trophies anyways. 

We have to show belief. We have to support the reds. We always win it. We should take it by the scruff off the neck. Come on you reds!

B-E-L-I-E-V-E

Gone Baby Gone

If you ever ask me, when does a man feel the most terrible, I would probably have quite a few incidents or moments to narrate. But right now, I dont know how or why, it feels terrible. Really really terrible. Right to the core. From the deepest bottoms of my heart.

Leaving India is always bad. Leavind friends is always bad. Leaving family is even bad. But return someplace where you dont like it at all is the worst feeling. That too on the back of a good long almost 3 months vacation is unexpressable.

I went to India in January. I hadn't got time or the courage to go visit India for over 2 years. 2 years 4 months to be precise. The nostalgia was immense. It was getting to a point where I was getting emotionally sick thinking about everything that is about India. I was getting depressed. Hence, when I received my new Visa, I decided to take a chance amidst all the ongoing problems like immigration, finances, jobs and all one could think of. I thought of surprising my family by visiting without any prior notice.

I notified the monster of a man a.k.a Shailesh about it and he came to pick me up to Mumbai.

I was worried sick about the money that I would have to spend in India, the bills that would pile up when I return back to London, the immigration mamu's patting my back and saying "kahitari kara chaha panyacha" (there chaha paani costs a friggin lot than a 5 star hotel's chaha paani!).

But once I shocked the living daylights off my mom after showing up on the door, all the fear was lost. That was the most satisfying moment I had in a long long time. Then came the turn of Uncles, aunties, brothers, sisters n friends. It turned out beautiful. It was a dream come true. But as one says, a man can never be happy with what he gets. I wanted more.

I had thought of going out with my mates to movies, long rides, trips to neverlands, just go insane. I had been waiting for it for 2 long years. 26 long months. 790 long days. Countless hours.

But as it always happens in my case, I learn things the hard way. Things had changed. They'd changed real good.

People had moved on. People had girlfriends. People had studies. People had jobs. People had other things to do. People were happy. I wasnt sure about myself. My first thought was, how pathetic could one be when it comes to giving excuses. I felt awful at heart and wanted to secretly cry my eyes out. But then I realised it wasnt all that bad. I realised they had to do it because it was their life. I didnt not have the right to pop in all of a sudden out of oblivion and expect things to happen. I couldnt expect them to leave their daily chores for my satisfaction. Thats not what friends do. They understand each other. Support each other.

The first month flew away like a leaf off a fading tree. The next was excruciatingly painful. Get up at 2 in the noon and sleeping at 5 in the morning took the piss. Some of the things some friends said hurt like mad. I felt really bad about it. But I couldnt show it.

People said I hadnt changed. Why on earth would they want me to change? Everytime I come back to India, they expect a major change in me. Why? What is wrong with me? The next time I go back, I am gonna be a real pisshead making people wish I had been to my old self.

When I was spending my time doing absolutely fuckall, I felt terrible. When my sister was getting up at 4 in the morning, cooking food and going off to work untill 6 in the evening, I felt like a penny waiting for a change. My frustration resulted in me fighting with my mother, shouting on my brother, being rude with my sister. I hated myself. I still do for being a dickhead.

I dont know what to do. Today sitting here and typing all this after a day of returning back to London, I feel terrible. There you go. For the umpteenth time, I feel terrible. I want to cry but I cant. I just want to go back to my country even though I feel I couldve done a lot better in India this time around. No matter how bad my condition was, no matter how bad I was treated at times, no matter how ignorant people are, I still love it. I miss my mom, my friends, our kitten, our house, the bike, the car stereo, the tea, the food, the people, the festivals. I miss the love given by all. I just cant take it. Please god help me find a way! Please!

Respect the women

OK, so probably I have to rant a little bit now. Maybe it would sound wtf-u-talking-about kind of trash but I deserve to rant after being shut for all this while. So, what is the reason for my haranguing?

Well, I am working at this place called the England's Home of Rugby. For more knowledgeable ones - Twickenham. I am assigned to work with a bunch of Mauritian boys. 20 of them to be precise. The guys are all your typical next door horny males. So we were working a few days ago when for the first time, we had a girl who came to work along with us. She was an insanely good looking Indian-African kinda girl with absolutely fit body and hair to die for. But that was it.

The way she caused commotion amongst the boys was absolutely sensational. More than sensational, it was immoral. The poor soul was leeched at all day long by the guys as if she was a toy on the chimneypiece. And she did not seem to be a bit distracted by it even though she noticed everyone staring at her. The look on everyone's face was as if they had all been stuck on an deserted island without a woman for years and they were ready to nail this chick down. It was hilarious at one point.

But, the funniest part is, the way they stared at her. If you had shown her head shot to them after a few days, they most probably wouldn't have recognised her but if you had given a picture of her from head below, they would've immediately recognised her. The sexually-driven stare was insane. Once even I was caught having a quick stare I agree but it was a bit awkward & I with all honesty did not intend to look at her.

The fact is If you go with the quick look, you just feel the awkwardness and it means you either felt weird she caught you staring at her which means you were having weird thoughts or being creepy, or it says you are loser and you are embarrassed to admit that you were caught staring. Either ways, you have to just extend the stare and see what happens next.

Its more about the intention behind the stare than the stare itself. Why are women just looked upon as a sex object than anything else. There is more to a woman than her body. Yes call me an idiot but that's the truth. You cant be just looking at the "prized assets" when you are talking with a beautiful girl. But then how would you know if she beautiful, because you weren't even looking at her face. There is nothing good or beautiful in this world as someone has said, the beauty of a thing lies in your ability to appreciate it.

The question is, why is it that men always think of sex 24 x 7. No I am as straight as the hair on my chest and I do think about sex as much as I think about football. But the difference is, not all the time. There is a limit to everything. I've seen so many guys who would fuck a doll in the middle of the night even when they r half asleep. It is crazy. There are so many things better than sex. Ok, not better but, as good as it. How about a hot plate of onion bhajji when its raining cats n dogs. Or how about a cuppa when its freezing your bollocks out. How about coming home all disappointed and knackered from work and your baby boy or girl runs upto you and holds you in their cuppy arms. For them you are not the same loser as you might be out of the house or in the office. Isn't that as good as it gets? Try staying 3 years in longevity away from your family and friends, the faces you dream to be with, the people you want to dine n wine with, try meeting them for the first time after all those years. I will sacrifice a thousand nights of sex for such occasions. OK, make it hundred...or less. But you got the point.

But you know what, a dude has second thoughts, as always. And I have second thoughts. Not that I doubt what I have scribbled but I love being sure. Is really sex the best thing ever or is it not? Lemme double check just to be hundred percent sure. Honey...shall we..

Just to prove my point to all the guys who are crying foul over reading this post, stare at the above image long enough, and you will see a waterfall. ;)