To hell with it...

There are times when sudden realizations about your own self dawn upon you in a not so subtle manner and you look at yourself in the mirror with a mixture of awe and pride.

I could never imagine myself taking on this monster of a woman who works as my boss. The woman is an absolute parasite when it comes to thriving on someone else's sweat & blood.

Our presentation on the emerging economic trends had the visiting delegation eating out of our hands. Words of praise from the Chairman after the meeting were sounding absolutely divine. The least one expects from the boss is to pass on the credit wherever due. With not an iota of contribution to the entire presentation, here she was absorbing all the praise without a mention of who all had toiled the entire weekend.

With beer and some rowdy colleagues for company, the evening was a riot. The sight of this woman was all I needed to open up and the next thing I knew, I found her standing next to me with a condescending arm over my shoulder. Well! I was too sozzled to remember the entire conversation but this is the gist...

Hey! we did super today.

I'm busy now. Can I ignore you some other time?

What!! your brain's too foggy right now to think clearly.

Sure and your brain, I bet your brain feels as good as new, seeing that you've never used it.

That, my friends, is the last I remember of last evening.

Tomorrow!!! To hell with it........

Boyfriends, Girlfriends

I heard someone say once- "The best love affairs are those we never had".

On the lighter side, Read this and decide which breed your boyfriend or Girlfriend belongs to...

1. Joe Sensitive - "After I wash the dishes, let's cuddle, OK?"Also known as: Mr. Nice Guy, Family man, Honey, Darling, Soft-boiled Egg, Snugglepup
Advantages: Well-behaved; irons own shirts
Disadvantages: Irritatingly compassionate, wimpy

2. Old Man Grumpus - "People are stupid. The world can go to hell. Let's stay home and watch TV."Also known as: Grumbles, Sour puss, Stick-in-the-mud, Old Fogey, Slow Mover, Jerk
Advantages: Stays put; predictable
Disadvantages: Royal pain in the ass

3. Flinchy - "I--I'm sorry for whatever it was I did."Also known as: Trembly, Creampuff, Hey you,
Advantages: Jumps entertainingly when startled
Disadvantages: Easily spooked; surrenders without a struggle

4. Bigfoot - "Shut yer trap, I'm thinkin'."Also known as: Chunk-style, Lummox, Ignoramus, Galoot, the Hulk, Big 'n' Dumb
Advantages: Can tote bales; is easily fooled
Disadvantages: Can break you in half, sweats like a pig

5. Lazybones - "Zzzzzz"Also known as: Lucky Dog, Parasite, Bum, Sponge, Snoozebucket, Drug Addict
Advantages: Well rested; easy target
Disadvantages: Unlikely to fulfill your dreams

6. The Sneak - "Who, me?"Also known as: Love Pirate, Snake, Rat, Slime, G-D Son of a Bitch
Advantages: May feel pangs of guilt
Disadvantages: May be having time of his life

7. Ace of Hearts - "After I wash the dishes let's make love like crazed weasels, OK?"Also known as: The Sizzler, Handyman, Dreamboat, Casanova, Monster
Advantages: Perpetually aroused
Disadvantages: Perpetually aroused

8. Mr. Right - "While the servants wash the dishes, let's make love like crazed weasels in my new yacht, ok?"Also known as: Mr. Perfect, Jim Dandy
Advantages: Answer to a woman's prayer
Disadvantages: Hunted to extinction

9. Ms. Nice Guy - "Tickets to the boxing match? Oh, darling, you shouldn't have!"Also known as: Whattagal, Precious, one of the boys, My Main Squeeze, Doormat
Advantages: Cheerful, agreeable, kindly
Disadvantages: May wise up someday

10. The Dreamer - "Someday I'm going to be rich and famous. I don't know how, but--"Also known as: Struggling Artist, Philosopher, Buffoon, Bag of Wind
Advantages: Tells good stories
Disadvantages: They are all stories

Ooooooops

While you'll hear quite a few rants from me on my dreaming childhood, this one from my dad was a gem. It took me just this conversation to hear and find out that dreaming was a trait being passed on through the generations in my family.

One night my father woke himself up with a loud "Hello!" to someone in his dream. As the next day came and went, Dad thought the nocturnal outburst was his alone to remember. But that night, as he and Mom were getting ready for bed, she said dryly, "If you see anyone you know tonight, just wave."

Well! I did take off after my dad but I guess my dreaming abilities came to the fore even during the day. While in school, I remember standing around the boxing ring with my classmates and the champ loudly challenging anyone to come forward for a couple of rounds in the ring for a 100 bucks. As usual, being in my own dreamworld, I was paying no heed to whatever was going on when someone pushed me forward. A deafening applause followed and there was obviously no backing out when I saw the prettiest lass of my class smiling the brightest and clapping the loudest. To cut the story short, the bout did take place, the punches did land but most of them were initiated by the champ and received with full impact by yours truly.

The only consolation was the apparently beatific but somewhat sympathetic smile on the face of my dream girlfriend, which I barely managed to see with my scarcely open eyes. The champ was equally sympathetic albeit a touch sarcastic when I heard him saying, “Were you dreaming when you came forward to take me on? But I must admit you were brave. So these hundred bucks are yours”.

And I heard myself saying, “Just show me the ‘son of a bitch’ who pushed me forward and I’ll give you two hundred”
…thinking…should I tell myself again to Dream on!!!

Initiation into Day-dreaming

The more I think about it, the more I find Ms D’sa responsible for initiating me into the world of Dreams. You see, when a child spends close to three quarters of his time in the company of a person and that too in the initial stages of his upbringing, it is natural for him to adopt most of this individual’s traits. Especially so, when the referred to person is one Ms D’sa.

Let me take a little time in describing Ms D’sa. Ms D’sa was my nanny and her sheer presence was enough to overshadow most of the other human beings in the vicinity, leave alone the poor inanimate objects however colourful they would be. Ms D’sa was a forty something mountain of a woman whose girth could put a well bred cow to shame and make an adult hippo shy away from the surroundings. Her heart matched her physical dimensions and her display of affection for me could outmatch a rampaging river at the peak of monsoons out to gobble up its own banks. Her colourful attire would pale a Rainbow and the vast expanse of hair on her head could be mistaken for the abode of a gigantic swarm of honeybees.

I can remember Ms D’sa since the time I can remember the huge tree in our backyard. This tree was special because this was where Ms D’sa and I would enjoy our joint afternoon siesta. She would start by rocking my cradle softly and debating with herself on which princely tale to tell that day. Her short narratives of the courageous prince, the lovely princess, ugly ogres and the magical Genie would gradually turn into gentle snores working better than a lullaby to take me into the world of exotic dreams.

Initially, I would dream of being the prince and go through all the heroics Ms D’sa’s prince had accomplished in his fight for his kingdom and the lovely princess. With the passage of time, my inborn creativity started kicking in. The siesta dreams started intermingling with the reality world. The clown skittles would become my soldiers, the shiny flute my sword. The wooden horse would take me across the dark forests, mighty mountains and the never-ending swamps. The adventure would inevitably finish in the embrace of the beautiful princess and a gradual dozing off.

Well! Being a dreamer has its advantages. I realized this very early in my Day-dreaming career. I became a firm believer when the hitherto bleary face of my princess started taking the facial contours very similar to that of Ms D’sa’s lovely niece. With a skin as soft as a rose petal, a complexion as fair as ivory and a touch as exciting as that of the first drizzle on a summer sun parched surface, this amazingly pretty lass walked into my life when I was still learning how to walk unaided on mother earth. A toddler’s fascination could be had by the minimal show of anything out of ordinary. Her golden hair and long eyelashes were as extraordinary as a shining sun would be in the middle of torrential monsoon rains. She was aptly called Rosa and brought a whiff of a Rose’s fragrance whenever she walked by my cradle.

Some of the best moments of my toddling life have been in the company of Rosa. Gradually, I started looking forward to Ms D’sa’s occasional absence as Rosa would fill in for her and her soft whispers to assuage me after a cumbersome bath would set the tone for a blissful day.

The one extremely ecstatic moment for me during the entire day would be when Rosa would change my nappy. The soft touch of her hands would make the nappy-change experience a memorable one. Ms D’sa would also depute Rosa for the job off and on whenever the household chores would keep her from attending to me. The period immediately after bath was when I was given a tender massage with a pleasant smelling baby oil. The massage itself became the sole responsibility of only Ms D’sa after she became slightly suspicious of my extraordinarily chirps and acrobatic antics whenever Rosa was the one using her supple hands to knead my length and curves.

It was the fourth or fifth massage when Rosa’s velvety touch launched me into my sojourns into the dreamland. Only this time, the ogres and beasts were replaced with exotic looking fairies and stunning mermaids. Dark forests and swampy lands transformed into a spectacular never-ending garden full of beautiful flowers and striking plants. My princess, who had definitively assumed the face of the pretty Rosa was standing there in a striking pose inviting me to embrace her right there. The reverie broke only when I heard an embarrassed giggle and Ms D’sa’s unusually harsh voice.

I was thrust harshly into the world of reality and I saw Ms D’sa pushing Rosa away from me and looking at me with bewilderment.

I still can’t forget the glint in Rosa’s eyes and the first experience of an exciting throbbing in my nappy. The Day-dreamer’s exploits had begun.

And I told myself, Dream on!!!!

Dream on - I told myself

Its not a confession. Why should I confess? Its not a crime to day-dream. I have no qualms about being a Day-Dreamer, and an accomplished one at that.

Day-Dreaming is in fact an art and I seem to have perfected it from my days as a toddler.

My first recollection of my inimitable ability to day-dream stems from the resounding spanking received from a still vividly remembered lissome aunt of mine.
This one will aptly set the tone of my Day-dreaming memoirs’ collection. I distinctly remember being transferred from my father’s lap to the intoxicating arms of this Aunt of mine whose ample bosom would put Dolly Parton to shame. A minute or two of this enthralling embrace was enough to get my inborn day-dreaming instincts to action.

Lo and behold…the awesome bosom transformed into a sparkling white potty inviting me to discharge my water of life in its full glory. Believe me, the ultimate feeling of exhilaration for a toddler is to pee to his heart’s content. And toddlers of today take perverse pleasure in the place of discharging the excrement. I was much ahead of my time. The warmth of my elixir was enough to awaken the wrath of the lissome lass and the subsequent spanking put me on the path of being the king of all DDs (DD for Day-Dreamer from now on).

I've been a "DD" all my life.

Ms Mary’s History lesson classes were a DD’s haven. An hourglass figure would complement her resonating sensuous sermons and would transform an absolutely alert horse into a panting Day-dreaming dog. The determination to follow my parents’ cautious advice about being attentive in school was put to severe test by Ms Mary’s opulent story of Kings and Queens of yore. All those bullies were unable to collectively prevent me from taking the first desk in the class where Ms Mary would rest the frontal portion of her thighs for a fleeting moment while delivering her lecture. A momentary brush of that skirt was enough to take me into the early 20th century where I was King George V whose gorgeous queen Mary had a striking resemblance to my history teacher. Rest of the lecture was personally delivered in the form of sweet whispers and eventual throes of passion on a Victorian era King-size bed.

Those initial years set the tone for regular sojourns into the stimulating world of Dreams. And I told myself, Dream on!!!!