RassMalaai Rites

Sometimes, like now, I wonder why do all of my posts seem like confessions, venting-out, anti-depression self help guides. There has been no actual employment of an effort to make it so. Does it necessarily imply that I remain vexed all the time? Am I like this pathetic vermin who has no other better job in the world than cribbing?  See, I am treading that line again. Well, let's make a conscious effort of not being so. Let's try not making this forum a discussion about the anxieties (sexual or otherwise) of my life. Like right now, I feel very light and buoyant. You know where I actually derive this buoyant feeling from? Getting down to specifics, it is that plain texture of the cloth on that perfectly plain and tender torso. You know, the feeling you get when you see a very casual loose shirt worn by someone who has a flat stomach, a well, not well-built, formed chest, so that the shirt does not fit tightly on to him but hangs loosely around his body. It's like h...

Date: 15 th February, 2012 Time: 00:09 A.M. **, I have no idea that you have ever had an idea of what I am about to say. Maybe, you had but it must have just been a passing idea which you must have shrugged off in disbelief. But I do believe, that you have had atleast an ounce of the belief, at least once, no? Please, don’t insult my intelligence by a denial. Let’s start with the facts. Place: ****’s house at ********, on the roof. Moment: That song, on which we danced, hugging, closely and you whispered into my ears – “I wish I was [it should have been ‘were’, though] ***”. (there were many such moments to follow) Aftermath: A warm feeling inside me emerged, to continue holding you tightly and never let you go. I rushed to the loo and sat there for half an hour thinking, I don’t know what. I coughed, felt nauseated and nostalgic the very next moment. I know, nostalgia is something that is a remembrance of something long back……but it did seem a...