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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