Sensual mind and stroke of wind

Gentle stroke of wind,
touching the inner chord of one's soul.
Sensual morning,
birds singing a flirtatious tune,
and couples kissing in a no hold and no barred moment.
A fresh day to be remembered,
as the freshly brewed coffee is gulped.
Holding hands and brush of intimacy piercing the soul.
Distress flies out of the window,
making the moments ecstatic.
Flurry of thoughts holding the mind firm and free at the same time,
life is but a celebration of awesome energy.
Laughter, joy and happiness gains momentum to strike gold.

Sunday musing


Who Stole my Condoms?!

Politics is an art! You sell yourself to voters! You can sell condoms as a side business to rake the moolah. Ask BJP MP, Gyandev Ahuja, he will tell how he mints money by selling condom by creeping in the dark at JNU in Delhi. Condom sales soaring. It ain't Pathaka. What a figure! 3,000 per day.
Image credit:https://www.facebook.com/Arre-1647011945555015/?fref=photo
Woah! I'm so jealous. What am I doing slogging my ass? Stupid me. I could have shifted base to JNU at night and start selling condoms to students. Now, I am having second thoughts. I fucked up. Yeah! I swear. Where the fuck I discarded those used condoms. How brainless I am! Next time, I gonna send all my used condoms for recycling purposes to Gyandev Anuja. Meri Jaan! Condoms becho aur save karo. See! At the rate, this unique condom seller is going, it might be scarce on the market. Now, we will have a bevy of film starts endorsing condoms in front of JNU, right from Amitabh Bachchan to SRK and Deepika Padukone. Soon, Ranveer Singh will be out of work for his condom ad will soon fizzle out. So much time, our Ranveer Baba has wasted.
It's the new face of condom and he goes by the name Gyandev Ahuja, Next time, I misplace or lose my condom pack, I know who followed me to the chemist and sneaked inside my house. Chor padka gaya. Ahuja, you dirty and naughty fellow. Ah! How about doing a start up, Make in India and start manufacturing condoms to rake millions. I am sure Ahuja will help me out kick start my Make in India business and together, we can make it a money spinner. He will be my best salesman by standing outside the gate at JNU, selling it. See! I will create employment for the dude in his spare time, free from his parliamentary duty and sell condoms. Now, all you condoms manufacturers, no need to look far to recruit sales people for Gyandev Ahuja is here and shift your outlets at JNU.
It's all about the love you make. No hatred. It's true Ghar Wapsi and Ache Din the condom way.
Aaj kal Charchey Puri Sheher mein Condom ka and it's new self-posed brand ambassador Ahuja Sirjee, Who says foot in the mouth don't play and get into the lime light. It pays to be stupid and ludicrous, I tell, The man is such an inspiration that he is giving Yo! Yo! Honey Singh tough competition on the market. Apna Honey Singh wondering whether he will soon be outta work with Ahuja on his trail. Now, who stole the dope? Or, Ahuja is imagining a sex haven in his own world.
Wait! Did he missed an anti-climax during the night to hallucinate and come with such flimsy theory about sex, condoms and drugs.
The many facets of condoms Ahuja way and he is still counting. A tale of who came first, the egg or the chicken. Or,count your chickens before the hatch. It's a plot for a super duper successful erotic movie. The likes of Malika Sherawat or Sunny Leone will curse their luck that they may soon be out of work at the rate condom is being counted. Ahuja may script the story and play the main lead in this tale of dope and condom.
It's a lure. The condom lure. The Bhakts may call it Maya Jaal, an illusion of sort that condom is the real thing and sex is not. Facts will be re-written all over the place and trust Ahuja to get admission at JNU to do his Phd on condoms since he is a maven at it. He will narrate to us tales of condom, sex and drugs post midnight. Have to give it to him for his sheer hard work and dedication for tirelessly picked and counting used condoms at the university. It's time for all of us to stop whining and curse our jobs for if Ahuja can do it, everyone can. Yes! We Can.
Ask Bill Clinton what he did with all his used condoms at the White House. I am skipping the alleged blow job and trust Monika on that. Perhaps, she has preciously saved the used condoms and will send to Ahuja or tell him the sizzling White House tale.

Politically  and OffensivelyYours! 


Curious case of Arnab Goswami

Arnab Sir Wants to Know in the Name of the Nation..who came first the chicken or the egg! Ask Rahul Gandhi, he will come up with an olfactory answer after beating around the bush, inspecting the oval boiled egg and breaking the yore. The Man, who pretends to be the Voice of the Nation is seen everyday somewhere on Times Now shouting for he wants to be heard. 

Image credit: Google

A tale of a shining gold biscuit that has been lost or gone errand somewhere claiming to be found by the one and only Arnab Goswami on his doctored show. First, accusing supporters of JNU of sedition and posing himself as the savior of Indian democracy in this whole national and anti national debate. Heard somewhere that you have a voice on the show of the Great Arnab! Buddy, you live in a fool's paradise if you believe in the words of Arnab. Remember, it's his show. The Great Arnab asks questions, cuts the dissenting panel short to give the answers. Oh! How can I forget, not without shouting his lungs out in a downright rude manner as if he is on a political platform?
Perhaps, Arnab wants to resuscitate the dead from the grave or giving a new leash of life to the pack of wolves. TV has never been so entertaining with Arnab Goswami leading as the army general when he is crying hoarse atop his voice. The great World War on Arnab show. Trust only, Rahul Gandhi-the minnow of Indian Politics-to frustrate him on his show on why The Nation Wants to Know.
Our Arnab is so patriotic that he can blindfold himself to tell us more about patriotism and nationalism by shouting in an uncanny ability. He may just fire the gun straight in the foe's chest with eyes wide shut.  Ah! He will give fodder to JP Dutta to make sequels of his patriotic movies based on the life of a TV anchor giving tough competition to Sunny Paaji-Dhai kilo ka haath-not Leone. Our Arnab will make the cut in the Great Return of the Last Action Hero rolling, shouting and getting teary eyed. Who needs glycerin when we have you performing to the best of ability, Arnab-ji?
Image credit: www.fakingnews.com/Google
When Arnab goes for the kill, better beware TV folks! No, your TV set can never go blank for the TV host voice will be heard all over the place and explodes the idiot box like The Last of the Mohicans to pop inside your drawing room, shouting at you why the fuck you munching beef over chicken. You know why?Simple: Because The Nation Wants to Know. Beware if you having sex for Arnab has the ability to fly like the superman in the middle of your climax to probe the whys of what you doing. He can be anywhere and everywhere.
Why our Arnab shouts his lung out with the right emotion? Is it because the nation wants to know or he is plain bored being on Tinder during his free time, hunting for single ladies that he can rope on his show, expressing how they are in dire need for a date! Or, single dudes turning into despo, not able to find a date. He might just ask them to spell out their sex life in the open.
He shouts so much that Phd students at JNU university might make him a case study or still better be the face of the premiere academic institution to protest about almost everything. How about being the poster boy of the Governent's Made in India campaign or advising Narendra Modi how to shunt out opponents shouting hoarse over intolerance and anti-national activities.
How about playing Inspector Daya on CID in real life? We trust you Arnab Goswami to make all the rapists, terrorists and under world king pins of confessing their crime for they will fear not the man in suit on News Hour but the voice that will damage the ear lobe and terrorize them forever. He's the best man to extract confessions for criminals would be too scared to hallucinate by hearing King Arnab's voice throughout the rest of their lives.
Naughty boy Arnab, now will you tell us where on earth you stole the doctored video? Now, the Nation really wants to know what naughty Arnab was up to? Was it during a sex romp or during your night search for seditionists among students? Now, don't you dare start shouting. You know the moral right, The Nation wana know.


Born Again

It was the season where pride blended with love in the wintery December in foggy Delhi. He pursued Mrinalini, a painter, whose life revolves around her art and the secluded existence she led was a hard nut to crack.
He was everything Mrinalini was not. After all, he belonged to a conservative Hindu family who inherited a fortune and took over as the director in the software company his father built from scratch. She was liberal, a free bird, thinker, independent and a fiesty woman who believes in soaring to reach escalating height in life. She was an atheist while he doggedly believed in God and bowing to the wish of his parents to lead a pious life. At least, he puts a pretense in front of them but revere them like God.
It took him two years wooing Mrinalini, not revealing his identity and sending him hand crafted perfumed love letters, expensive gifts, flowers and gold. She rejected all of them. It took him a great deal of courage one day at the art gallery when he revealed his name, Amar when she ignored him. It took him a fair amount of hard work to prove himself and coax her for a coffee date. They dated for another six months and started living together.
All hell break loose during Amar's parents surprise visit to the flat owned by Mrinali and they insisted that they should tie the knot. Mrinalini was furious at her prospective in-laws scorn for a live-in couple and their dogged religious beliefs in rituals. Finally, they married in great fanfare, something that Mrinali despised.
In the start, everything went well but Mrinalini started to become uneasy at the interference of Amar's parents in her marital bliss and their insistence on her performing rites which lingered on the ludicrous state. Finally, she blew her top and told Amar that she will not tolerate such interference. At first Amar pleaded with her to pander to the wish of his parents but gradually became red with anger that he will not tolerate any disrespect to his parents. It led to ugly fights between the two, One day, Mrinali packed her bags not before calling her husband a coward who reeks of double standard that can only do well living under the shadow of his parents.
Years passed. Mrinali was settled in New York and becoming a famous painter and art critic. On the other side, Amar was growing unhappy, living with his parents who made his life hell by fixing matches for him and insisting to choose a good Indian bride who believes in respecting their culture. He was getting suffocated and became so furious that he told his parents that it's high time that they stop interfering in his life. He realized that his wife was right. He has been a coward who lacked the balls.
Amar had a heated argument with his parents telling them that he cherish his independence and has never been able to grow in such a suffocating environment that killed his self belief right from childhood, to growing up and getting married. They called him an ungrateful son who will reach nowhere without their blessing and that he is still under the spell of his ex-wife. He lashed out, "At least, Mrinalini has courage. It's not just about both of you as my parents. If today you are feeling bad, just imagine what she is going through. She also has parents."
He started his own business venture to live his life on his own terms. The free bird was able to discover himself and his freedom, which he enjoyed every single day. He couldn't apologize to Mrinali and was ashamed for tolerating the unfair treatment meted out to her. 
It was an evening filled with glitz where the young business man of the year was awarded to Amar in digital business. He walked to the dais where the Delhi Chief Minister felicitated him. As he walked down, a feminine silhouette touched his shoulder gently and spoke in a subtle voice, "Amar, will you marry me..again?" His heart was beating frantically. It was Mrinalini. She spoke calmly, "No need to justify anything. I came to know about everything. We are humans and we do err in life. Our love has and will always triumph." They hugged like during the old times. A new Amar and a more understanding Mrinalini were born on that day.



Sparkling love

Image credit: Google/santabanta.com
In love we believe,
gentle whispers, sweet nothings in the ears and stealing kisses.
Valentine Day is just the perfect excuse and gateway.
Surprise your lover with flowers, exquisite chocolates and gifts.
Romance tickles the heart,
as we reach a high that makes for life long memories.
We shall never cease to believe in this powerful energy called love.
It's pure as white, an oxymoron and bliss.
The heart never stops loving.
It bleeds when disappointment creeps in.
We shouldn't stop ourselves from loving for we may never know when it will trigger our feelings. 
He or she may just be a step away from us.
Our heart will never cease from singing the lullaby of love and sparkling romance in the heart.
Celebrating togetherness and achieving milestone together.
Who needs to be in love for ages?
Love as if it's your last moment and do it like teens,
make the season of love last eternally.
Keep the faith and celebrate love.

Belated Valentine Day.

With Love


Time heals

Storm causing upheaval to the mind.

Life goes topsy-turvy in the face of angst and grief.

Losing a loved one is the biggest tragedy of life.

Heal the heart & mind at a slow pace.

Let tears flow.

Go back in time and sink into memories.

Stop the watch.

Grieve as much as one can and feel the scars.

It takes time to heal the heart.

Don't fight the tears, pain and turmoil the soul is undergoing.

You shall heal by itself.

Don't they say time is a great healer!

Make peace with the self,

for you shall heal.