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Month: February 2016

The Hots I Had For Him

The moment I saw him standing with all glamour in that cozy neon light of the plush and elegant decorative room, I knew he was the man for me. I kept staring at him and he at me, both of us lost in our bubble of absolute privacy. We were left alone, and I touched him, my hands trembling with excitement and fear. I started feeling him slowly, gently exploring him with my deft fingers. He stood there, without shying away from me and I got bolder, exploring him in and out. He in turn kept inspecting my passion, with silent sweet acceptance, revealing his feelings with silent grunts and groans. In the end of our exploit that lasted fifteen minutes, I knew we had struck the deal, and I wanted him for a life time. I wanted him so very badly. With a last longing look, I parted from him after extracting a promise that he would come to my home real soon. I spent day after day staring at my phone, willing it to ring (I had it in silent mode, anyways) and let me know that one message that I was so desperate to hear. There was nothing. No phone call, no message. I tried calling him back, but he kept evading me. I was heartbroken. Food became a burden, sleep my arch enemy. I felt...

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Food on the compound wall

For every one of us in this new age big family, he was the biggest nuisance in life. His punctuality was sickening, his food routine and preference – absolutely incorrigible. His age was the biggest headache of all. He was an eighty five plus years old man who carried rules, regulations and grit back from his yesteryears. The lines on his withered, dark skin spoke about years of back-breaking hard work and hardships of life. He paid a three-fourth from his retirement money every month for his food and lodging; to stay in the house that he built when his back was still erect. It’s not that the family did not love him. They couldn’t find time between their busy work schedule, social life and virtual life to find time for that one soul which craved nothing. Nothing; but that. I served him breakfast in the plate specially cast aside for him, poured some water in his thermos while he started on his idlies, with his hand shaking vigorously. He took the first piece, grabbed my hand for grip and slowly started moving towards the ancient looking compound wall that surrounded our house. He placed the morsel of food in his hand on the compound wall, amongst other debris of the same customary ritual of the previous week, and the week before that. This was one another annoying habit...

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