On Relationships

Hello girls,

Wadup? How are your nails doing today? I’ve been quiet for a very very long time, because I believe in shutting the fuck up if I have nothing substantial to talk about of course, people don’t work that way, look around, got it? Anyway, coming back, are you flirting enough to get your quota of free drinks? Oh, and how are your guys doing? Petting them well? Cool. If your answer is a ‘No’, read along, others can navigate away or switch to the other tab, I fucking know what you’re watching. Girl, a survey revealed more than 87% guys and girls in our country spend most of their time in either chasing the girl or the guy or they’re busy fucking each other’s happiness. It’s a sad figure and a very sad state. Fuckers, get laid, fuck emotions and get busy in doing something that’ll make you proud, not your parents, not your dumbfuck relatives, make yourself proud (sidenote: Never do things for wrong reasons) when you nail that, you wouldn’t need anybody else to massage your ego.  There’s a very very important lesson that they probably forgot to teach in the schools, love yourself, fuck others. Even if you love the other person like Mayawati loves her fuckass dressing sense, draw a line.  You don’t want anybody to tell you what to wear and what not, not even your god.  You don’t want anybody to tell you who you can talk to, let no fucker tell you how to live your life, you are nobody’s property.  I know he says you’re-my-princess, but we all know he just wants to get laid, and its only fair and natural, please do not compromise your individuality for anybody. Please fight less, have sex more and do things what your heart says, without weighing them and for fuck’s sake, stop crying as if you just watched Rahul Mahajan embarrassing himself on a National Television coupled with a desperate attempt at humor with an ease with which Sherlyn Chopra posts her nude pictures. Do not pity yourself, you either repair the damage or end the relationship.  Respect yourself and the world will respect you. Don’t let your relationship be a blackhole, the one that sucks light outta your lives. Also, there’s nothing that can replace your peace of mind, let no Tom Dick or Harry play with it. Next time I see you crying, I’ll throw you in the women’s coach of Delhi Metro at 7pm on a Monday. You’ll be scarred for life, yes.

And fuckers, get laid.

Yours,

Lady Bla Bla 

On Writing

There are times in life when everything fails, when everything seems to fall out of place, when your peace of mind is fucked, in times like these, writing comes to rescue. I’ve been meaning to write since eternity now but couldn’t, it’s the most frustrating thing on earth. Today as I write this, I feel I’m born to write, I’d like to believe that my life demands me to write, there’s nothing else that gives that pleasure, nothing else that I look forward to, there’s nothing else that validates my existence. Writing purifies me from within, it lets me open up, it lets me communicate, it relieves me of all the fuckeries of life, it cleanses my soul. Writing helps me get rid of the layers of pretence, it’s everything that I’ve ever wanted. I need no validation from people, I do not write to make you happy or sad, laugh or cry, I do not write to massage your ego or offend you, I write because I ought to. I write because it makes me dynamic, it makes me alive. As I write this, I’ve switched off my phone, right now I do not care how directionless my career is right now, I haven’t sent that customary text to that special someone, right now I cannot even take Richard Feynman’s phone call (or maybe I can), everything is secondary right now. When I cry, my words cry with me, when I’m happy, they dance. When I’m lonely, they comfort me.  As I write this I feel alive, I feel real, after a long long time.