A long time ago.

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Light sabers

In a galaxy far, far away.

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DO or DO NOT. There is no TRY.

Darth Vader

No, I'm your father.


You don't know the power of the dark side.

The Force Awakens


X-Wing Fighter

Long live the Rebel Alliance.

October 24, 2012

Trying not to love you

Rohit stated incredulously, "Really? Your eyes didn't sting or anything? I mean not even a teeny weeny bit?"

Monica shook her head with a naughty stubbornness. "No, I didn't cry a bit!"

"You're such a guy!" Rohit's lips broke into a teasing smile. "How could anybody hold back the tears after watching Barfi 's ending?"

"Seriously,what size bra do you wear?" Monica remarked, a hint of mischief twinkling in her eyes. "I'm not so  girly and emo like you!"

"Hey!" Rohit laughed and replied. "I'm just nice, friendly, and I've never been in rehab. An ISO 9001 certified decent guy!"

"Whatever!" Monica rolled her eyes dismissively.

Rohit pretended to bring something from his back. With his fist holding that imaginary object, he brought it to his nose, closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. He then opened his eyes, crouched on his knees and presented Monica with the dreamed-up article. He smiled sweetly as he looked up at her.

Monica's face lit up in amusement as she pretended to be touched. "Flowers?! How thoughtful!"

Rohit got up on his feet, brushing off imaginary dust off his clothes. He immediately flashed a bright smile, raising his left hand and opening out the thumb and index finger below his lips. Like Ranbir Kapoor used to do in 'Barfi'.

Monica burst out laughing. "So you're Barfi now? And we are what..playing dumb charades, is it?"

He threw both his arms outwards animatedly and took a bow. He then extended his right arm to her, as if asking for her hand.

"You asking me out?" Monica touched her chest and blinked her eyes repeatedly, feigning disbelief at her good fortune.

Rohit nodded and smiled happily.

Monica's eyes gleamed wickedly and she said irritably, "Look, I, I tried calling you. I've got an awful headache, and a stomach ache, and several highly contagious diseases. I’m afraid tonight won't work out."

Rohit, like the textbook definition of a sensitive guy, looked crestfallen.

Monica pouted her lips and made a sad face. "I'm sorry."

Rohit pointed to the non-existent flowers.

"Well, yes, the flowers are nice," she agreed.

Rohit began prancing around, picking off flowers from hard to reach imaginary trees and bushes.

"You went to so much trouble?" Monica made a puppy face.

Rohit pointed to her.

"Just for me?"

Rohit nodded.

"How thoughtful. But, well, I'm really not feeling well..."

Rohit made a long face, grunted and looked away.

Monica couldn't help grinning. "Gee, I hardly ever meet a guy who's willing to show his feelings. Oh, well. Just a short one, okay ?"

The deaf and mute Barfi was all-smiles again.

"So. .. What did you have in mind for this evening?" Monica looked questioningly at him.

Rohit mimed eating.

"Dinner." Monica said out aloud.

Rohit mimed dancing.

"Dancing," she exclaimed gleefully.  "I love to dance."

Rohit mimed kissing.

"Uh, let me tell you where I'm coming from,  Barfi," Monica started to protest. "It's just, well, you seem very nice, and your style is very... retro, but I’m just not into dating for dating's sake any-more. I finally think I'm ready to develop something... substantial."

Rohit pointed to himself, indicating that he was substantial.

"Oh, I'm sure you're very substantial, but, well, I am playing for keeps, and I want someone who could take care of me."

Rohit flexed his biceps.

"But who's still sensitive."

Rohit pointed to the fictional flowers.

"And who isn't afraid of intimacy."

Rohit mimed kissing.

"I meant emotional intimacy," Monica stomped her foot and stated angrily.

Rohit grunted, "Oh.” He cocked his head sideways, rested his cheek on his fist, and started writing in the air with his other hand.

Monica lifted her eyebrows. "What are you doing? A poem?"

Rohit nodded. He mimed a globe.

"The world...," Monica tried to decipher.

Rohit nodded and then mimed craziness.

"Is crazy."

He enthusiastically bobbed his head up and down, and then he stood firmly with his feet shoulder width apart. 

"We're standing-"

Rohit looked down, as on the edge of a precipice.

"On the edge of... of..."

Rohit brought his hands very close together, indicating a small word. 

"A, an... On the edge of an..."

Rohit repeated the small word gesture.

"Uh... A!"

He mimed urinating.

"Eww! What? Urinal?... Pee?... Piss?"

Rohit agreed enthusiastically, and motioned to group the two together.

"We're standing on the edge of an a-piss... abyss! We're standing on the edge of an abyss." Monica almost jumped in elation.

He pointed to his eye, and drew a straight line towards her.


He mimed ”small word " again and then nodded when she got it.

"A, and..and..."

He pointed to her and mimed her shape.

"You... you are a Coke bottle."

He shook his head disapprovingly and continued.

"You have a have nice figure."

He brought his arms outwards, indicating ”more. ”

"You're beautiful."

Rohit nodded affirmatively.

"But I see you and you're beautiful."

He touched his heart.

"My heart..."

He filled his heart.

"Is filled..."

He mimed ”small word" then nodded.

"With? My heart is filled with..."

Rohit pretended to pick up two sticks, rub them together, and make fire. Monica stared at him curiously, unable to figure him out.

He then pretended to burn a finger. He covered it with his mouth.

"Oh, you've burned your finger. You have a blister. So you wanted to say- My heart is filled with blisters?"

Rohit asked her to repeat and repeat, and then he stuck his hand over her mouth in mid-word.

"My heart is filled with blisters. My heart is filled with blis.."

Rohit stopped.

"My heart is filled with bliss."

Rohit bowed gallantly.

"Oh, that was adorable." Monica squealed in delight.

But Rohit wasn't finished. He came close to her and rubbed his finger lightly against her eyelids. He then held out the finger for her to see.

"Mascara? My mascara?"

Rohit nodded and while looking intently at her, rubbed that finger from below his eye to his cheek.


Rohit rubbed his eyes, pretending to cry.

"Tears? Tears...Mascara ...Mascara running down my eyes."

Rohit pointed to his watch and then at her.

"Time. When. When you've mascara running down your eyes."

He nodded again and then encircled his arms as if hugging someone.

"Hug? I want to hug you. When you've mascara running down your eyes, I want to hug you."

He mimed ”small word " again.


Rohit's eyes brightened and he brushed his finger over his right ear.

"Brush hair over ear. When you've mascara running down your eyes, I want to hug you and brush your hair over your ear."

Rohit grinned grandly.

"That was freaking awesome!!!!" Monica's voice danced.

"So," Rohit finally spoke, "you felt any real connection between us two?"

"Um," Monica replied haltingly. "Rohit...I don't know...I.."

"Hey, chill!" Rohit chortled. "Just messing with ya! So when is your date coming? It's ten already."

Rohit and Monica were standing on a lonely footpath, a couple of minutes walk from the theater where they had just watched Barfi a little while ago.

"Do I look okay?" A little bit of anxiety crept into Monica's voice as she straightened her dress. "Is this too tight?  Not tight enough? What do you think?"

"He he. Okay doesn't even begin to cover it. I hope he doesn't stand you up though." Rohit looked into the distance, waiting for any headlights to show up.

"He better not," Monica said grimly. "I'm gonna kick his ass otherwise."

"Looks like his sorry ass heard you," he said cheerily. "Here he comes." 

A Swift Dzire pulled up shortly in front of them. Rohit momentarily froze as he saw the reflection of them,  standing together,  framed on the car window. Monica's lustrous black hair outlined her oval face like an exquisite wavy casing and it cascaded over her creamy-white bare shoulders like a soft waterfall. But it was her eyes which always got him. Those dark eyes, so knowing and secretive. Eyes which kept thoughts enticingly closed, an imposing wall filled with memories and speculation. It was just too tempting to scale that wall. Without permission. 

The reflection drowned as the car window rolled down. A head with a shock of wavy hair bobbed out and said, "Hi Mon. Hey Rohit. Sorry for.."

"You're late, you ass!" Monica folded her arms and burst out.

"Hey, Money caught up," the guy apologized. "I'll make it up to you. Promise."

"We shall see," Monica said unrelentingly. As she got into the car, she poked her head out and said, "Rohit, thanks a lot. See ya tomorrow, okay?"

"Hey, Rohit, thanks for watching over her," the guy smiled. "Bye. Good night."

Rohit just smiled weakly in response. It didn't escape Monica's notice.

As the car peeled away the footpath, Rohit thrust his hands into his jeans pockets and started walking. He had no wish to come out with Monica tonight. But she had insisted. And although the idea of baby-sitting her while they waited for her boyfriend had turned him off like a bag full of cockroaches, he still relented. 

Just then, his cellphone beeped. It was a message from Monica.

"Hey, you okay, nah? Everything cool? You looked a bit off."

Rohit's fingers flew as he punched in his response. "OK? I'm fallin apart jus thinking of you 2 getting cozy together in dat car of his. :-P LOL. Just 4get abt me and njoy urself.:-D".

Two seconds later, his cellphone beeped again. It was her. "Jerk!:-P Fk u!"

Rohit smiled to himself, as his fingers moved to the music player of his phone, scrolled through the playlist and finally selected a number. He resumed walking, as the sound of the song, "Trying not to love you" by Nickelback, filled the silent night air. 

The End

October 20, 2012


**Disclaimer: For adults only. If raunchy stuff is not your thing, or you are below 18, just stay away! :-D Rest of you, hop in!! **

I stared down at the naked woman sleeping next to me, noting the way her long dark hair fanned out across her pillow like someone had spilled a pot of black grape-juice, and told myself this would be the day, this would finally be the day that  I left  her.

Her  bare  shoulder  peeked  out  from  the under  the  covers  and  I mentally  connected  her  freckles like dots, imagining I was doing it with my finger instead.

Maneka was so beautiful when  she  slept.   Well,  she  was beautiful all the time, but there  was  something  about  the way  she  looked  when  she  was  sleeping  that  was particularly beautiful, an innocence about her, maybe, that made her look almost, well, blemish-less.   That was no  small feat considering that just the night before she had downed six cans of beer and begging for more.   Somehow,  in spite  of that,  she  still looked innocent when she slept.

If only I still loved her.

Maneka  twitched  in  her  sleep,  shifting  under  the bed-covers  with a little sigh.   This  would  have  been  the perfect  time.   I  could  just  slip  out  of  bed,  stuff  some clothes into a suitcase and be gone before she was  ever the wiser.  But I thought that yesterday morning, and the morning before that, and the morning before that one, and always I found some excuse to stay.  It was raining, and I didn't want to drive amidst the chaotic traffic.  Or it was sunny and I didn't want to waste a beautiful day hitting up friends for a room to crash in.  There was always some reason  that day couldn't be the day.

Leaning forward, I pressed my lips to the back of her neck,  kissing  her  gently.   Maneka  moaned  softly,  stirring under the blankets, pushing her naked body back against mine as if by instinct.  Her firm, round ass slipped into the hollow  between  my  legs,  fitting  there  perfectly,  snug against  my  maleness.   I  purred  against  her  neck.   As  I nibbled  her  skin  I  slid  my  hand  over  her  hips,  easing around her to cup a breast,  kneading  it with heel of  my palm,  using  my thumb  to  stroke  her  nipple,  teasing  the plump little nub firm.  She pushed back against me even harder, grinding her butt against my very hard staff, and still, even as I coated  her  ass  with my juices,  I thought,  this would be the day I finally left her, left Maneka.

I let go of her breast and slid my hand down her soft little round  belly,  reaching  between  her  legs,  easing  my fingers down the length of her furrow.  Maneka moaned  in answer, arching her hips at me, wordlessly begging for it, begging  for  my touch.   I rubbed  her  cuntlips,  tenderly, feeling the slickness of her coating my fingers, her  folds swollen with desire, hot and wet and wanting me.  Then Maneka parted her thighs a little and I slid into her, dipped my finger into her wet flesh and wiggled it.  She called this frigging, said she liked to be frigged, and I did, I frigged her, swirled my finger around inside her like I was stirring the  juices  simmering  in  her  pussy.   Maneka  whimpered softly, the way she did when she wanted to come, like a trapped little puppy wanting  to  be  let of  a locked  room when company was over.  I dragged my finger over  her clit, stroking the hard little pebble, rubbing it, tracing the shape of it with the tip of my finger.  Her breaths came in shallow,  ragged  gasps  then  she  started  to  hiccup  like  a frightened child, and I knew she was almost there, that she was  going  to  come  for  me.   I  rubbed  her  clit  a  little harder,  a  little  faster,  feeling  it  throbbing  under  my fingertip, pulsing wildly, out of control, and as her body shuddered  in climax  I thought  about  the  suitcase  in  the closet, just waiting to be packed.

As the last tremors of climax faded I kissed the back of her neck  again,  tasting  the  saltiness  of  her  skin.   Maneka purred and snuggled back against me, pressing her body even tighter against mine.  I kept my arm around her waist and her hands moved under the blankets  to  cover  mine, trap it, hold it against her belly.

"Good morning," I whispered.

"Mm," Maneka murmured, "A very good morning.That was nice."

I nuzzled my face in her black curls, breathing in the scent  of  her  expensive  salon  shampoo,  knowing  that  it wouldn't be the day after all, that I wasn't going to leave her, that I couldn't leave her today of all days.

"Happy birthday," I whispered.

I wondered again if I had to leave her really because I wanted to. Or because I had to. Maneka and I would never work out. All our nights of passion, and on not a single one did I dare enter her. We were first cousins after all.

Tomorrow I would run out reasons not to go. Definitely.


The End
Author's note: Trying something new and totally unfamiliar is a very intimidating task. :-D I almost wet my pants while writing this out, and no, not the fun-kinda wetting. Till now, my stories had been relatively 'clean', restricting themselves to a little bit of cussing here and there. But, this story just went over-board, treading dangerous territory.:-P Anyway, hopefully, you guys had fun reading this. Do tell me what you thought. Adios!