Wednesday, June 29, 2011

Swapping partners.

I met her a year ago. She was wearing this hot little outfit. It was lust at first sight. She wasn't curvy, although that is usually what I look at first when I meet them. But she had this very sharp look, like she was looking for guys who knew exactly what they wanted from her.

I walked up to her and grabbed her suddenly, my right hand around her midriff. She seemed cold to my touch, colder than I expected. I caressed her back with my fingers slowly. She did not exactly respond to my touch, but neither did she seem to dislike it. But I knew I would eventually bring her around. She felt like she was the ONE. It all felt so right.

We left the place together, my hand still around her. What came after that was what you could call a whirlwind courtship. Like all new relationships , it started off great. We both loved each other and we never out of each other's sight for long. She responded almost instantly to my every need, never complaining nor hesitating. On my end I did everything I could to protect her, I treated her like she was the most precious thing in my life, which she was. We shared memories, some funny , some poignant. We would sit together and browse through our pictures of our adventures together and laugh at the silly things we did and reminisce about the people we met and missed.

But sadly, that happiness didn't last. 6 months after we first met, things started becoming noticeably different. She started to throw tantrums for no apparent reasons at really unexpected times, but these spells were thankfully rare. Then they became much more common, almost daily affairs. It came to a point where I would look forward to the rare day where she behaved normally. She used to almost seem to know what I needed before I even asked her for something, but now it took a herculean effort to make her understand my simplest needs and wants. Maybe I took her for granted, and this was my punishment, I don't really know. At first I got upset and concerned, but then those feelings gradually gave way to anger. I did not deserve this. No one did.

I started to take it out on her in frustration. I was no longer as gentle with her as I used to be, there was no longer that desire to protect her. In fact, I started getting really rough with her. A few times she was left with a few bruises. One day I lost control , and I inflicted an ugly gash on her side. Of course I was horrified when I saw what I had done, but there was nothing I could to take it back. On hindsight, that was the point of no return for both of us, things would never go back to normal.

She withdrew further from me after that incident. She would just not respond to me no matter how much I tried. Finally today I threw in the towel. Life shouldn't be this hard, it was obvious we were both miserable. It had to end.

I went back to that place. There was someone else at that little corner where I first saw her. A sexy curvy little thing. I went up to her, and just like before I placed my right arm around her waist. It felt good. Maybe even better than what I felt the last time. I wanted her. I needed her.

I took her out from my pocket for one last look. She felt so unfriendly, so cold. I knew what I had to do, but I had to give it one last try. I touched her lightly again, exactly the way I did when we first met. No response. I pleaded for her to come back to me, to show any sign of life, to give me a reason to hold on. She just remained silent.

The lady behind the counter stared at me curiosuly at first before running out of patience and telling me to make up my mind, she had other customers to attend to.

Defeated I turned her around. No protest, not even a whimper. I removed her back and took out what was mine, what I had given to her a year ago. It was the only thing left of her that was of any use to me at all.

I left the shop with my new toy. She is really the one. We are going to be together for a much longer time. It just feels so right.

Monday, June 27, 2011

Why I did not become a writer: Part 4

This is the final part of the story. Yes I know I took a while to do this, but reliving that awful memory has been harder than I thought it was gonna be.

So when I stopped last, I had managed , with every ounce of my strength, to walk to up to Bala Subramaniam. He stood frozen, perplexed at how someone could withstand that amount of punishment like I had yet still show some fight.

I knew this was my one chance, before he recovered from his shock. I raised my tiny fists and started pounding them on his chest with whatever strength I could muster. I felt him stagger back. I pushed onward with my fists flailing forward, pressing my advantage.

Suddenly I found myself on the floor again. My ears were ringing and I had this dull pain in my head. I tried to get up , but my legs had given up on me. Then I saw this shadow over me. It was Bala. He started guffawing in the worst way possible, it sounded like the noise a hyena would make after cornering its prey.

"You hit like a girl, Bert. Actually I seen girls who hit way better than you, you freaking loser."

With that final verbal barb and a kick to my already broken ribs, he left.

It took me almost a year to recover from my injuries. I never spoke to anyone about what happened.

I never saw Bala and Raquel again, they left the school while I was still in the hospital. I found out much much later that she had married Bala and the had moved to New Zealand and are now married with 4 kids. I wrote one final poem for her.

Adieu my love, my one and only.
The pain you caused me , I would never wish on nobody
I now fucking hate you, I hope you die
In a car crash or a fire, or me cutting your heart out while you lie
Then I will eat your babies alive, before they even have a chance to cry
Then i will find all your relatives and stab them with my kitchen knife
But not before I sever their limbs first, laughing while they beg for their life.
Damn it, I still love you, despite your evilness and your complete lack of culpability
Come back to me and I will forgive you, we will start over and I promise you , live very happily.

Sadly I never got a reply. I am pretty sure she is miserable now, maybe it's her shame that is stopping her from responding to me like I know she wants to. Oh well, we all make our own choices and we live with the consequences.

Raquel, if you are reading this, one final message from me to you:

It sucks being the only metal fan at a party

It was Rock Band night at a friend's place last night and we had the works, the mic, guitar and drum set. The version of Rock Band was the one with all the rock songs , and I suddenly spied Laid to Rest by Lamb of God on the playlist. After an hour of pleading with my friends to play that instead of bloody Firehouse and Bon Jovi, they finally relented. Of course I had to do the vocals since I was only one who knew the song, but I was more than happy to step up to the plate.

The song started, and I giggled while I watched my less than capable drummer and guitarist tried to keep up with the meaty riffs and the intricate drumming. Yep this was no longer bloody Linkin Park territory, kids. Then the vocals kicked in and I started doing my best Randy Blythe growl, something I have probably rehearsed countless times in the privacy of my own room for the last 5+ years. It was fucking brutal , pardon my french and then everyone started laughing.

I should have expected it of course. To them , I sounded like "Cookie Monster" from Sesame Street. Of course I tried to maintain my pride and continue singing but it was hard to concentrate among the constant laughter behind me. But yes I finally made it through the song and got freaking 83% accuracy on the vocals. I showed everyone the middle finger in true metal fashion and then ran to the bathroom as my eyes were getting all watery from the intensity of my performance. Chew on that you metal haters!!

For reference, here is the actual song :

Wednesday, June 22, 2011

Ash-induced Horror

I never really believed in God. Till today.

It's funny how the worst experiences can, in a second, change beliefs a man has held for years.

Per my previous post, I was having a horrid time yesterday. I can safely say it's the worst experience of my life since the pornhub incident. First the mass orgy at Brisbane airport where like a million people were re-directed to after Sydney airport closed down. Then the 1 hour+ wait at a hotel which I am pretty sure wasn't 5 star, maybe at the most 4.2 !! Yes that is what I had to put up with last night.

Today was another hour wait to check-in at the airport. The queue for the commoners was so long that I couldn't even see the end of the line, so I jumped into the priority queue. Immediately a staff member asked me to join the regular queue. I tried to protest, saying I was a Krisflyer Gold member but the staff politely reminded me that I was on Qantas and I was a lowly Bronze member, and ushered me back with the other regular folk. I pleaded with her that in times of crisis like these, she shouldn't differentiate between different frequent flyer members, but she just looked at me with a bemused expression on her face.

That final act of cruelty was the limit. I walked away from her, from the line, giving up my place. For a second, everyone stared at me , shocked but then they all scrambled to fill that gap. I blocked out all the noise, it was deafening. The cries of the children crying asking why they couldn't go home. The cries of an old woman on the ground , wailing that she just wanted to see her son before he leaves for the US for good. The sobbing of the young boy kneeling over his dead mother, who died from exhaustion from all that waiting. I blocked all of them out.

Then suddenly I heard my name being called. I turned and right in front of me was the mother. She had this crazy look in her eyes. She pointed a finger at me accusingly and then uttered a single word. JAS.

At that very second it all made sense. The fact that I couldn't get on a SQ flight and had to settle for Qantas. The less than 5 star accommodation. The cruel refusal to acknowledge my gold status for Krisflyer. I blinked my eyes and the old woman was gone, but she said all she needed to say. This was God punishing me for abandoning my friend in her time of need. This is him abandoning me in my time of need, as a painful lesson on how I had taken my friends for granted.

I joined the regular queue, but I was no longer upset or angry at my situation, a inner sense of peace had taken the place of the rage and discontent. I had realised my mistake and now knew what I needed to do. I will try and get back on Friday night , no matter what it takes. That will be my sole purpose for this trip. Jas, I am sorry. I will make it up to you. Hang in there baby, I am coming.

Stuck in Brisbane en route to Sydney

Sigh thanks to the volcanic ash from Chile , Sydney airport is closed and I am stuck in Brisbane. Endured close to a 3 hour mass orgy at Brisbane airport trying to get through customs since all the flights to Sydney were diverted there. Another 1 hour wait to check in at the hotel that they got for us.

On the positive side, I gotta know 2 Indian guys. What can I say, we Indians gravitate towards each other for support in times of crisis. I tried gravitating to this cute girl in the line at the airport but got the cold shoulder.

Super tired, going to bed now.

Monday, June 20, 2011

A Final Plea

I hate it when I have to break promises. But a week from now I have to break one.

I will be off to Sydney for work next week, and I will miss a friend's event, one that I promised to attend. She is getting her first tattoo, and who else would she want there to be with her than the Stallion himself and the comfort of his manly yet soothing hands to guide her through the ordeal.

I was going to try to get a flight back on Friday night so I wouldn't miss it, but then I realised I would rather spend Friday evening in Sydney than on a plane. So I didn't. I tried asking her if she could have it done at the airport (does the airport have tattoo parlors? if not they should! ) but her only response was one of uncontrollable shrieking. The poor girl, she just cannot imagine me not being there in her time of need.

Jas, I am so so sorry I can't be there. But seriously, you don't need a tattoo, why mess with perfection? Your body is like the Taj Mahal (or the Chinese equivalent - The Great Wall of China), do not defile that beautiful temple with needless ink graffiti. I will admit I have had thoughts of defiling it myself, especially when we first met, but I was a young horny boy then, not the matured respectable gentleman you see now. So heed my plea and get a nipple piercing instead. They are way sexier.

But I know my plea is in vain, so as a final attempt, I will leave you with a poem.

My darling Jas , off to get her first tattoo
This Saturday at some seedy place, I disapprove but nothing I can do
I will be in Sydney, shippingsipping champagne and cavier
She will be screaming in pain , thank god I can't hear that far.
But it sounds sexy, a little black swan on her hip
I have one myself, but it's no tattoo, here's a tip:
It's 4 letters and it ends with ick.
Anyway I should be back the night you are done, so here's what I am proposing
Let's get your swan and mine together and see how they get along, you know what I am saying?

Saturday, June 18, 2011

Bitter Pill.

We looked at each other from across the table, our eyes locked in a battle of wills, but it was a battle I was losing rather too easily. It was all I could do not to bawl in frustration, my fragile male ego slowly disintegrating in the presence of the admittedly impressive display in front of me.

What else could I do but marvel silently at the expert manner in which she maneuvered her way around my balls. There was one moment where I was quite sure she had to touch them, and I smiled in anticipation as I waited for it to happen. But then she proved me wrong, and gave me a little wink in the process. Sigh a woman as beautiful as she is cruel. That's the worst thing you could do to a man - to give him that glimmer of hope, and then at the last minute take it away. I squeezed my rod in frustration, a moment of weakness that didn't go unnoticed but I was at the point beyond caring.

Few minutes later and I was completely outmatched, not like I ever had a chance. She was toying with me the whole time. For once I had to swallow my own pill , and it was more bitter than I ever thought possible. So to all the women with whom I have toyed with in the past (too many to name here), I am truly and sincerely sorry.

The game ended, the outcome never in doubt by either of us or the countless pairs of eyes watching us. I shook her hand and thanked her for the game. She smiled kindly and patted my head, and then she was gone, leaving me to wonder if I would ever see her again. Well actually I will , since I kinda found out where she lives, now it's just a matter of waiting around the area till I "bump" into her.

Till we meet again, beautiful stranger. I am counting the days.

P.S. Jas was there too.