A'right so,today is Sexy Na?'s(Radhika Saxena) interludial day which comes back every 365 days,(read:Budday!Budday!) which reminds me,that I don't even have one.It's like those beauty products-got a manufacturing date and an expiry date.Nobody used this date to celebrate the presense of an unearthly person.I mean it's such a dormant date,nobody cares.It's only so much useful to me as a dead fish is to the sea.Why is it only a bunch of lucky homo sapien's prerogative to blow candles over a cake?This is insane!This is bigotry!
Let me see,when was the last time I really had a birthday?Ohh,I have seen photos of it,I look only a foot long,dazed,because I wasn't aware that it's a celebration.My mother used to at least bake cakes for me seven years back,but now,she'll be like "Ohh,you're so old,you don't need one."And my dork friends will say,"Ohh shit,can we shift it tomorrow?I really gotta meet my boy friend today(who is the dad of our generation)."
YOU CANNOT SHIFT BIRTHDAYS OK?It is not only free food,it's an overflow of emotions.It's like my parents met,and on this day that had me.I bet they regret it secretly and sometimes loudly.
Project Tiger is almost as old as I am and still tigers manage to die illegally.Instead of text messaging me,let the forest officials know that you have noticed that their houses are made of teak,mahogany and that you have a feeling that they hid a tiger's head or say a rhinoceros' head in the locker,and that their oh-so-pretty-fucked-up-rotund-will-implode-any-moment wife carries an illegal crocodile skin bag.I know a few of them,fathers of my I-shall-not-call-them-friends.They think I shouldn't be alive within a range of 2km radius around their house.It's unholy!I can insult almost as comfortably as I can breathe.I don't blow my own trumpet because I don't have one.
What does it take to not wear a leopard skin dress?It's not like you're pretty,well if you should know,you're excruciatingly ugly and that crocodile skin bag you carry,hates your very baneful touch and that beaver fur around your neck,well it only makes me say that you look better as a beaver than the beaver itself does.
I and this particular senior were discussing Delhi females and we evolved a theory that works for most,not exactly evolved because it was always there,steady.If you see a girl,you need to ask yourself a few question to know if that girl had been manufactered and brought up in Delhi or not.
Straight hair?Check.
Fair?Check.
Girly clothes(REALLY GIRLY)?Check.
Painted nails?Check.
Never looks better or worse?Check.
Has only one expression on her face?Check.
Looks the splitsvilla kind?Check.
Hugs her girl friends 50 times a day?Check.
Congratulations!You found your Delhi girl of dreams!
*I have this syndrome of invective speech,sorry.In case,you're all that is mentioned above^^I don't exist,sorry.
Like what the senior said,you have two types of jeans in your wardrobe-one that fits you well and a baggy one.When you're happy,you wear the nicer one and when you're sad,you wear the baggy one,so you look different on different days,but Delhi girls have got the same kind of clothes,so they only look good,never better or worse.
This man,whatever his name maybe,he gave me an insight into the lives of men.Well all I can say is,if females are bitches,males are male-bitches.Equality.
Ohh,incase you're into reading translated stories,the translation of Manto's stories by Aatish Taseer is way better than
Khalid Hassan's or Harish Trivedi's translations.
Dictionary:Asphalt-Blame the donkey.
Byeeee!