Some chicken, a haircut and a blowjob?

Have you recently strayed (for no apparent reason) from the way to your man’s heart? Are you looking to cool things down just a little, where some footsie or a little grope under the table says bring it on, but makes you want to run a mile when things start getting a bit too serious? Is this the point where the arms of a relative stranger suddenly seem comforting and inviting, and the temptation to cheat gets overwhelmingly real? Have you expressed all this (most of it) and broken his poor simple heart and now want a grand gesture to make it up to him and ease off some of your guilt? If so, some chicken, a sexy haircut and a good ol’ blowjob will make his day. Soon he’ll get his jealous nose out of your cell phone and personal texts and want to bury it someplace else.

But it won’t ease off your guilt, not really. At first, you might be shocked and outraged at your own thinking. You know this was just the easy way out of a hard (difficult) situation. Then you’ll start questioning whether you are turning into a slut. And after a night of casual tossing and turning you realize you don’t really care. You tell yourself that you deserve to have some fun, a couple of close friends agree and say this is what ‘youth’ calls for, and then you come up with terms like ‘innocent fun’ to explain your loose morals.

Yet you could never possibly begin to explain this type of ‘innocent fun’ to anyone in your social circle. They wouldn’t understand, and you’d never try. Why cheapen yourself in the eyes of others and risk being branded a slut, especially when you haven’t yourself figured out if you are one? It’s an hypocritical society where every girl keeps her inner slut hidden deep inside and then finds it prudent to gossip about girls bold enough to let the world see her for who she is.

Wondering what happens next? Probably you get over this phase of flirting and fooling around and decide to get serious in life. Maybe you’ll find someone who understands and even channels this side of your character, and you find true happiness with this lucky guy. Or perhaps you end up passing through a string of meaningless sex and faceless guys till you realize you are more fucked up than ever. And then you find you don’t give a shit about loose morals and prudent bitches. You say, ‘Fuck it’ and then simply start living your life exactly the way you want to, like there’s nothing left to hide deep within.

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Untrodden paths

This Friday started normally. My friend A was travelling to Mumbai for some work and had left home early. We have this little tradition to call and wake the other up, collecting well wishes at the beginning of each journey. But our conversation didn’t last long; it was impossible to hear each other over the noise of the bus speeding down the highway. Other than that, it began as a day like any other.

Then he got a phone call, the contents of which he relayed to me while his bus stopped at a food mall. He sounded like his usual enough self, so I hadn’t the faintest notion he was about to tell me something shocking.

“You know my friend MK?” He began.

I was silent, even a little absent-minded and sleepy, having been woken up earlier than usual.

“You met him over drinks last Saturday. The tall guy. He bought us all Tequila shots, we celebrated his job placement at Mumbai, remember?”

My brain finally caught on. “Yes, of course I remember”.

“He had a heart attack. His brother had called with the news. He’s no more.”

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