Friends with benefits

"I love you too." he said looking like a wall, straight, emotionless. He said it like it was a daily chore that he had to get over with. She immersed deeper in his arms. "Can you please stay tonight?" She pleaded. She hated to sound that way, desperate, weak, needy but there was little that she could help. She was impulsive, she was always ready to be burnt, ready to say the dangerous things, out loud, without a thought or the fear of being judged. She'd easily give in to the moment. "No. Please don't expect anything from me. You don't get it, do you?"  "I'm Sorry.", she said ashamed and embarrassed, cursing herself for having asked for something like that. "Whatever", he turned away from her. Being with him was an emotional roller coaster ride for her, like running madly in a tunnel reaching the darkest of corners and open spaces with lights, slapped between extremes, "Don't stay then, leave." she said trying to collect whatever was left of her self respect. "Come here baby, I snap easily. Sorry." he eased out and looked a little human than before, he embraced her in his arms and that one moment for her extended till eternity, unbroken. This was a pause that she never wanted to break. The way his fingers ran through her hair and his touch on her bare chest made her feel alive than anything else in the world did. She'd transcend space and time, when in his arms. Just then, in the mid of the night, his phone rang. He instantly rose and dressed himself. "No, please stay a little longer." again, she cursed herself for saying it out loud in open with such desperation. "I have to. My wife just delivered a baby.You can stay here tonight, I've made the payment." He left leaving five grands on the bed, closing the door behind him.

Periods.

Its that time of the month again. When I blossom like a flower and my femininity flows out of my body like a mad roaring river, I love it. Every bit. They ask us not to enter the temple, because it's a holy place, not to

enter the kitchen, not to worship because lets face it, GOD, the imaginary friend, the stone statue, the hit-me bear must be respected and I'm dirty. I'm so overwhelmed with humility and warmth, I feel so respected. I love

periods! Hey, did I forget to mention the cramps? Oh, they're are just.beautiful. Your body hurts everywhere, parts that you didn't even know existed! I feel so alive. The pain. Back, legs, abdomen, upper abdomen,

lower abdomen, chest, you name it! So why all this happens? Every month uterus assumes, I'd let a guy put it in and have his sperm fertilize with the egg and make babies! Wow! Every fucking month, did you hear me?  EVERY FUCKING MONTH! Who does that? At this rate even Gandhari wouldn't have produced  babies. Anyway, so anticipating an arrival of the jerk's sperm (Universal truth: All men are jerks. Out of context? Fuck off) it thickens the uterus wall to cushion the fertilization, but of course when it doesn't happen, it breaks the hell loose, sheds the fucking cushion and there it is! in front of your eyes, like a crime scene. Blood, everywhere.

EVERYWHERE. And the best part? Its coming out of you! gushing out at the rate of thousand litres per second. And it's so adorable.Its on the bed sheet, its on the skirt, on the pants, on the floor, its in the universe. It's like a cosmic joke on you. Yes, on you.  And you're supposed to act all normal about it. Like nothing happened, oh does it hurt? It's okay. Its normal.  It'll happen next month too, and the month after and the month after until one day when an accident happens and you forget to use the condom or the fucking pill or you're hit by lightening and decide on having a kid or that font size 5 disclaimer on the condom box decides to fuck your life, that day, THAT day, it stops and then begins a new episode in a woman's body. A tale of blood and gore. Don't even get me started. All this to give birth to a child. A kid! A kid who grows up to be an asshole and spends all this time trying to impress a dumber kid. And after years when the torture finally ends and you look at your kid and back to all the years of pain, every month, it'll be all lame. The freaking dots will not connect. Your life would stop making sense. Not that it ever did. That day, woman, buy a bat and pick up a random man from the street and beat the fuck out of him and don't ask why. Women are after all illogical, unreasonable, irrational, think about every man who ever said that to you and there it is! your happily ever after!

P.S. I'm not PMSing

We could use some life. No?

So, like most of of the minions, I have a job, I do stuff that I'm told to do that most often than not, makes no sense to me, adds no value to my existence, doesn't even justify anything, its probably discarded off at the end of the day, yet I do it, in return of money.No honor, no pride, ghanta skill, for money.Simple. The usual format everywhere, I reckon. I fail to understand though, how 7 billion people of the entire world, are completely okay with it. Do you not want to scream the life outta you? 10 hours a day in a cubicle. How is it okay with you? I bow to thee. Immense respect. I, however, cannot, just cannot sit in an office and be told to do something that I dont give a shit about. I'd rather watch Deepak Tijori's movies or talk about how my life changes at the prospect of having a north indian-south indian debate with you, or how much I care about what Arvind Kejriwal is up to or what an incredible asset Gandhi has been to India or Tusshar Kapoor's prolific acting in no movie at all. You get the point. Peanuts. I donno about you, but I get peanuts in return of selling my soul, squeezing the life out of me, and that is made to sound like a fair deal. Did you ever notice? I'm sure you'd have.  I graduated with a farce idea of independence, of freedom and here I am, fettered by money. I kill my soul to earn money, money to be happy. See the circular logic? I see it in my dreams. And whoever said, slavery is abolished must be really wasted. I slave my way into life every single god damned day. I could pull it off by being drunk all the time, but I'm getting old and I have a social responsibility of talking big and doing nothing and pal, that ain't happening being drunk. So next time, you get a life, even for like a millionth of a second, invite me. Please?