A perfect man

…shall never be, they say. And why ever not.

Misfortune lies not in men who are less than amiable but in nursing a courtship of compromise that promises only the most grievous of inflictions. It’s the desirous woman who so actively seeks and is eagerly agreeable to any suitor that comes her way that she allows herself neither the patience nor the composure befitting the woman whose faithful wait the perfect man is so deserving of.

“Take a leap of faith”, a colleague said. “I will, if I have the faith”, said I. How is one to enter into something without truly believing it to be of consequence? Why should I settle for someone? It’s like settling for a chocolate cake that is not baked into perfection. It must slowly melt in the mouth yet not so much with a slightly thick, chewy texture and a pool of warm, liquid chocolate buried in its depths. Then why must I be all the more poorer on an expensive piece of a lacking dessert, grow all the more fat, and be longingly left in want of a taste tease?

You learn to choose as you grow. Choose wisely, that is. Last weekend, I spent a day at a friend’s. It took her some 30 seconds to verbally illustrate a whole web of “who’s dating who”, “who’s doing who” with a lot of common entanglements. Do these people have any standards at all? Anything goes? Anyone goes?

I find it amusing when I get blighted for being picky. Damn right I’m picky. If I don’t see a possible future – I don’t pander to the present. “But how do you know for sure?” I DO. It’s real easy. And here’s exactly what goes through my mind:

“Is this it?”

If you truly feel the guy is it, and nothing could be better than being with him – be it his frightfully charming good looks, his treasures and riches or an agile mind and caring countenance or the lack of it all..so be it.

But if you don’t…if there’s a slightest doubt…why bother? Why cheaply humour yourself, AND him?

There is always a perfect man. Not of a perfect make perhaps, but of a perfect brew for your senses and soul that gets you inebriated for life.

Oh Nikita.

Hey Nikita is it cold
In your little corner of the world
You could roll around the globe
And never find a warmer soul to know

Oh I saw you by the wall
Ten of your tin soldiers in a row
With eyes that looked like ice on fire
The human heart a captive in the snow

Oh Nikita you will never know, anything about my home
I’ll never know how good it feels to hold you
Nikita I need you so
Oh Nikita is the other side of any given line in time
Counting ten tin soldiers in a row
Oh no, Nikita you’ll never know

Do you ever dream of me
Do you ever see the letters that I write
When you look up through the wire
Nikita do you count the stars at night

And if there comes a time
Guns and gates no longer hold you in
And if you’re free to make a choice
Just look towards the west and find a friend

A 2011 LoveNote

Dear people from the United Kingdom, Nigeria, Canada, Brazil, Colombia, Germany, Bulgaria, Belgium, South Korea, Bangladesh, China, Australia, Singapore and India!

You guys read my blog?! 😀 WordPress generated this lovely little 2011 overview and if I’d been narcissistic enough I’d have realized earlier but the statistics amaze me!

And I had no clue I had such a motley crowd! Pretty swell, eh?

So, these are the top 5 posts of 2011 with the most views:

1. The death of life..or the life of death?
2. “Hey Asshole.” – Russell Peters.
3. MOM – Mother of Me? 😛
4. Nasty scribblings.
5. A little (he)art.

And United Kingdom was where the largest number of viewers came from. (Just so you know, I go totally weak in the knees at the royal Brit accent and a side of me so unbearably bimbotic emerges from the burnt ashes of my usual caustic carcass that would leave you gaping in horror while you choke over my rancid fumes of wishful frolic.)

Ah well, this has been fun. Happy Sunday! 🙂

*Waving frantically goodnight from this side of the planet*

Ahoy! :)

So the new year struck, and out popped a little baby – and its nothing less than magical, really. Suddenly there’s a whole new person to love and adore and pamper endlessly and spoil or eat up whole really (I’m the kind who feels like doing that to cute babies).

I became a bhua (paternal aunt) to a little baby boy. Another cousin is pregnant..and I’m due to become a maasi soon (maternal aunt) within this week.

Me: I’m so gonna take him out on weekends..point out chicks to hit on…buy him shirts.
KM: Dude, you’ll be 40 by then!
Me: Oh shit

Yes, its only then you realize how tiny those little fingers really are. 🙂