A fuck is worth

10 minutes, prolly 11 as, damn who was that author again, says.

Add to it around 2 hours of foreplay and 1 hr of after cuddle...more or less you are done in 3.5 hrs

to make it sound boring that is, for the entertainment read the chicklits i write :P

the question oh yes there always is a question, wat do you spend your time worrying about all day, what is it that you are really worried about, and ofcourse, why the fuck are you worried!!!

Of Childhood Dreams

Remember the time when we were kids, all our dreams. We wanted to grow up to be an astronaut, find a prince or princess, help the world, be a hero, live the luxurious life. So many dreams criss crossing unbound.


But as we grew up we found that our dreams had some scenes missing, like working hard for getting into a medical college and competing against a few lakh others,or that your prince charming who you eloped with leaving your family behind sells you off to a brothel in mumbai. The young kid who saw his pop toil the fields and imagined growing up to be a fine farmer never had thought he would one day as a grown up be drinking insecticide because of the unmanageable debt he was in from failed monsoons and the loan for his daughter's wedding.

We didn't imagine these in our dreams did we?

So was our childhood a cruel joke, setting us up for stuff that was never meant to be?


Life can be cruel, admittedly. The more I see around the more I believe in that. As kids we dreamt of what we wanted, life showed us the challenges to get there. What i've also seen is that the people who are really really what I would say been unjustly treated are the ones who manage to learn to live with life, to be able to dream the dreams which they had as kids, as adults also.



This post comes from me looking back and seeing where life has been nice to me and where it has been nasty and to compare that to others. I mean look at us, we weren't born on a street with our mothers begging for milk, no landmine blew up our arms and burnt our faces, no nurse turned the valve of oxygen on my baby destroying most of his brain.

I have come to realize that all the crying most of us do, if we ever saw what some people have gone through and showed life the finger and still managed to hold onto their dreams, would be ashamed and feel like spoilt brats

Face it, its not that we weren't meant to dream, just that we can either fear what life is gonna throw at us and sulk, or we go get our dreams.

In My Shoes

One of the important rituals of the night for me, is to polish my shoes for the next morning.

Life is more or less like a shoe after all isn't it. Starts from a factory, treads many roads, walks through carpeted floors and on dusty streets. Mixes around with chappals outside a temple and talks to other hush puppies and the likes across the boardroom.

Every day is a new day, a new gamble, some days it comes home as shining with glory, other days trodden, beaten and dirty.

And thats why every night you must clean your pair, put the polish back on, buff it, so tha the next morning, senor v are ready again