Desi Men: Break Up Phaatus!

When it comes to breaking up, Desi men take the cake...and the cherry. Not only are they complete phaatus, lack balls and are terrible at being upfront to a girl, but they really haven't mastered the art of breaking up; at all. I've seen it all when it comes to Desi men. Nearly a decade of dating will do that to you, open you up to the losers, freaks and most ball-less of Desi men alive. If one broke up with me over an SMS, the other decided going AWOL on me would the smartest idea. Fools. But one thing is for sure, they all come back. Always. Without digressing, basically the point I'm making is that Desi girls aren't stupid. We understand that sometimes, men just don't feel it. And you know what, it's fine. But rather than escaping the situation at hand by using cheap tactics, would it really hurt your head(s) to be honest?

Remember than Sex in the City episode where Carrie (Sarah Jessica Parker) gets broken up with over a post-it? Yeah, I'm always reminded of that when I hear of break-up stories that are beyond comprehension. What is it with Desi men and their courage? They seem to lose it when it comes to telling a Desi girl that it's over. I'll never understand what the big deal is. You don't see us walking in the opposite direction when we see a guy we've dated/slept with/made out with and so on.

From sheer experience, men around me have somehow managed to irk me with their immature attitudes when it comes to breaking up. In the heat of the moment, I remember wanting to clobber them with a club. But in retrospect, it not only seems hilarious but it made me realize that if things would have worked out long term with any of those men, I'd probably be incredibly bored and miserable. A man who has no balls to tell you to your face it's over is basically...not a man!

Okay enough male bashing. It's not my thing- men are my weakness; sadly. Basically my point is simple: get over it. We aren't going to jump off a bridge or drink a bottle of chlorine if you break up with us. We're women of the 21st century. A mere break up is hardly going to kill us. So get over your fears, grow some balls and man up. You may find that we're more than happy to call it quits too! It's not always about you, ya know.

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Sex on the Beach: Meh.

An ex-boyfriend of mine was all about experimentation. Needless to say, he was and will always be one of my most favorite exes. No wait, hold on a minute. He wasn't my prince charming. Not at all. In fact, he was the biggest phaatu in the world. When it came down to choosing between his family and moi, he chose the former - duh. And honestly, I understand. But there are a bunch of details that follow this incident which in my head make him look rather stupid in hindsight. Let's save that for a day where I feel like doing some male bashing. The reason he's one I'll never forget is because he happens to be one of the few men who wasn't afraid to "take it outside". We had sex indoors all the time, but the outdoors, we believed, was a lot more fun. It's always more fun to head on over to the dark side. I'm all about it. Beaches and boats, parks and planes, they have all been tried. Of course, we had to keep an eye out for voyeurs and the cops but that never bothered us. The adrenaline rush was far greater than anything else.

When I tell my girlfriends of our outdoor rendezvous', they often gape at me with their mouths wide open. I often wonder if it's shock or sheer envy. I told a friend of mine whose man wanted to check out how hot they could be on a plane, that it's incredibly boring and overrated. She looked at me and said, "What?" before she walked away from me after hearing my personal detailed account. My Mile High membership ended faster than it started quite honestly. In a moment of sheer horniness, I found myself struggling in an airplane bathroom as I maneuvered myself around him. There was no moaning, no screaming and definitely no cumming. In the end I walked out frustrated, unhappy and grumpy. There is hardly anything sexy about sex in an airplane bathroom; trust me.

Nowadays, when I think about freaky places I'd like to get down and dirty in, it's more closer to home but still with a kinky edge. My room has a full length window with a sheer linen curtain. By night, it happens to be the sexiest place in my house. Ideas immediately infiltrate though my mind. The idea of people watching the silhouette of my man and I as we indulge in some much needed sexual discovery, is kinkier than ever. What's my point? Okay, look. All this fascination with doing it at a club, in a bathroom, the backseat of a car and so on, works well when you're 18. At 30, it's far too juvenile. Gimme my house with a ceiling to floor windows which I can be pushed against in more than one way possible. Works for me.

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Unkempt: Unsexed

What I simply cannot, and I mean can-not, fathom is how some (read: a lot) of Desi women are so unkempt. Every few days, I find myself staring at women who are unreasonably messy. From unpedicured feet to outgrown roots and my biggest pet peeve, undone eyebrows, I've seen it all. And every time, my reaction is the same; I shudder with fear. It's not because I judge them, I definitely do, but because I wonder about the men who sleep with these women. Shudder again. The very thought of a man having to touch, look and be turned on by a woman whose toes are chipped and unpolished, turns me off. Flop show - literally.

Do they not get it? We judge you. Not only other women but men, potential lovers, employers and even that cute guy at your gym; he's noticed your undone feet. You can walk in adorned in all your finery but if you couldn't spare an hour out of your life to get your roots done, and you're single, well, basically, it's your roots that is keeping you from getting some. Of course, it's wrong to judge a book by its cover irrespective of how unimpressive the artwork on the cover is. It's bitchy and you don't want to be with a hot man who judges you because you're feet look like they've been through war. But this is a reality of life. Everyone in this world is godforsaken is judgemental; including you...and me. Once you've won him over with your hotness, then you can work your charm, intelligence and so on, as you convince to buy you all the designer bags you can think of.

The secret to men is simple: care for yourself. A man wants a woman who is immaculately kept. He wants to rip apart her skirt because he knows he'll see waxed "heaven", her legs waxed smooth with red pedicured toes which look hot in black open-toed stilettos. It all sounds filmy, I know, but men are visual people. Putting it bluntly, every man wants to get a hard-on looking at their woman and this can only be achieved by a visually appealing chokri. It tells them, "This woman cares for herself which means she'll "care" for me," if you know what I mean.

Desi girls don't have it easy. We're hairy but thank goodness for our beautiful bodies and wheatish skin. So really, if you ain't keeping up with it, then you ain't being the hottest desi girl you can be. My suggestion? Simple. Spend some time naked checking out your body shody in front your full length mirror. Manicured? Pedicured? Hair done? Waxed? If yes, then work it girl. If not, work on it.

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A Bit of Phone Erotica Anyone?

I often wonder, what was it like back in the day for couples who were separated by circumstances back in the day? Forget the love and all that jazz, what about the sex? Letters could hardly suffice for aiding hard-ons and aching needs. Thankfully, our generation has been literally gifted technology. Yes, we use it for multiple reasons but the number one reason most couples take advantage of the internet and phone is for sex. Whether it's online or phone, we've all (don't deny it now) partaken in sexual intimacy via these two outlets. Irrespective of your preference, it may not completely fulfill your burning hawas on those erotically charged days, but it does the trick...somewhat.

I'm more of a phone sex kinda gal. The voice of my man on the other end gets me riled up and feeling sexier. And of course, using the phone as a veil to rid myself of any inhibitions, I find myself loose and free of any social blocks. I'll admit it, phone sex works when the distance is getting to you...and him. For the most part, the men I've suggested the idea to, have been all about it. In fact, they get "up" and going as soon as the words "phone sex" leave my lips. And I understand why; it's rather rare for Desi girl to come out and ask for sex.. And over the phone? I'm every man's ideal woman, no. But who said I was one to be compared to the rest anyway?

On the flip side though, I've encountered some odd circumstances all courtesy of phone sex has really put me in some rather iffy situations. If one man decided it made him feel a "void" and thus, insisted we not indulge, another became obsessed with me after perhaps some over-sexed sessions. A restraining order put him in place but to his credit, he was my most passionate phone-lover. Either way, my appetite was fulfilled. And that's what matters most, I believe.

Please don't judge me, I'm not a nymph. I just enjoy a good time with my man who is sometimes separated by seven seas from me. And what's wrong in a little phone erotica? I suggest every girl (prudy gals, this is really your way toss that frigidness out the door) shed your hard shell to indulge. Trust me darlings, it's always more fun on the dark side.

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High School Ishq-Vishq

My High School sweetheart was also my Kindergarten and Elementary School crush. Mind you he never knew how much I swooned over him for years. Just like any other Desi girl who was possessed by the Bollywood bug, I too stood in a corner and loved from afar. As kids, we played house-house together. He, the husband; I, the wife. It was then that I made plans for our future. Ghar, ghar ke samne garden and so on. And then, puberty happened. He got cuter while my puberty sprout took me down Gawky Road. We stopped speaking. Completely. But that couldn’t stop me from gazing at him while he played rugby from behind the bleachers. There were painstaking moments too. One day as I strolled into the school cafeteria, I spotted him in a corner getting cozy with a ‘friend’ of mine. My heart ached and in true cinematic style, I ran out the café teary-eyed only to be stopped by a close male friend who pacified me. Yes, such moments do occur in real-life. We never really spoke post elementary school. There was the occasional “Hi!” and “What’s up?” but it remained at that.

We both moved away from home for college and even then, our friendship remained very distant. I was kept in loop through the grapevines about his nonstop chain of girlfriends. Rumors floated about him every few months. “He doesn’t like Indian girls,” was one that seemed to pop around a lot. But what changed most, besides our looks – he is still quite dashing while I slowly but surely groomed myself into the hottie that I am, is how disinterested I am in him. I’ve been told by friends who see him around the social circuit that he has become the ultimate douche. Apparently, all this talk and crowning him as the “Most Eligible Bachelor” has convinced him that he is indeed, god’s gift to womankind. Riiiight. And yes, he is not into Desi girls.

I literally condemn the idea of “High School Sweethearts”. And it’s not because my own HS sweetheart turned out to be such a jerk in the end. But in reality, does the theory make sense? In High School, how many boys (they only become men post 30, ladies) do you really know? In hindsight, I look back at all at all the boys I knew then and now know that they turned out to be complete fools. But it isn’t their fault; it’s ours. Imagine marrying your HS sweetheart. You’re talking about being with a boy who eventually becomes a man at some point, but you bear the brunt of it all. During this transition, you see every aspect of his evolution and trust me, it is not necessary. Boys know nothing at seventeen. All they want to do is satisfy the aching need between their legs. Desi boys especially.

 My advice to every girl who is dating her HS sweetheart post High School is very simple: Leave him! Look girls, you need to get out there and experience the dating world for what it is. There are the good dudes, the bad ones, the sleazy ones, the lazy ones and of course, the sexy ones. But how would you know? You’re stuck with Mr. High School-wala. And you can believe he ain’t sitting and singing your jhaaps honey. He’s out painting the town and doing ‘it’ when he can.

It’s a simple funda. High School is juvenile. So are the crushes, so are the relationships and so are the men. And once you graduate, it’s on to bigger and better, no? Better men with bigger packages – pun intended.

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