It’s funny how sometimes all that you really want to do is to jerk off. There is this sudden moment of clarity. A clear aim in life. And the power to achieve it. And then boom! Everything ends with an orgasm. All the clarity. All the aim. And you are lost again. And life is back again.
She wore a cotton kurti that was green over her bosom and orange over her belly and waist. She also wore shades that belonged to a totally different era – she must have picked them up from her mom’s collection. She took off the shades almost as soon as she closed the door. Her face was unattractive but the same won’t be true for her eyes for the two black dots floating inside a white sea were no less beautiful and cute than a pair of gold-fish trapped in a water filled flask. She smelled of milk. The smell had been rather strong – making him wonder if she had just taken a milk-bath. She probably believed that rinsing her bare skin with something as white as milk would make her fairer.
Lost in her smell and her eyes, he noticed her lips only when they had come real close to his own. Before he could do a mental analysis of the exact shade of the lipstick that she had applied, their lips were locked. For the first few seconds, it felt just like eating Milkybar although it had been long since the last time he actually tasted one. He was used to chocolate. Nothing at the moment however, suggested that he was going to get anything else but a dip in pure white milk. Once the kurti and whatever else she was wearing below it, were gone, it was all white inside, adding in turn to the milkiness of the moment. The undergarments were not just white, but were certainly new as well. He already knew he wanted to call her gaay as his left hand started working over the breasts and as the shining white milk-smelling bra hung by the tip of the forefinger of his right hand. He couldn’t remember the last time he wore a white undie – probably never. As he let the piece of cloth drop off his finger, he knew he would ask for a white one the next time he would go to buy one.
Probably if she hadn’t insisted, he would have spent the entire night, smelling her breasts and playing with them. He wasn’t sure when that last piece of clothing had disappeared from her brown body. He wasn’t even sure about the separation of his own body with his dress. He was too lost. Probably it was one of those nights when his mind floated beyond sex. More than the desire to penetrate her, he wished he could paint her white from top to bottom. He really wished that. But it was mean of him to leave her unsatisfied. He cared for her. He probably loved her. And so they had sex – he still lost in the milky odour that radiated from her chest, his eyes closed – trying to see her as a white marble statue in the darkness of the shut eye-lids. The orgasm felt like a powerful bomb blast – throwing shattered particles of the white marble in all directions. Gradually, he fell asleep amidst the bits and pieces of the white stone, some around him and some over.
When he got up in the morning, he knew one thing for sure – drinking two liters of milk everyday was certainly not a solution to stop night-falls.
I was listening to a hindi song from a movie called Pyaar to hona hi tha. Kajol asks Ajay Devgan a question as the song begins.
I thought I had the perfect answer for her question. I answered her on behalf of her hubby. [audio:http://vatsap.com/wp-content/uploads/2008/04/ajnabi-mujko-etna-bata_shitoon_remix.mp3]
Dalaal ordered a couple of dick-head (refer to picture above) weed suppliers to get stuff for him on his marriage. All these guys got doped including Dalaal. Every time Dalaal had got high before, the fact that he had problems sitting the normal way on non-moving surfaces had hit him hard. He was feeling similarly even that night. In fact, this was one reason he had made sure all the dick-heads sat the way he did. However it didn’t help him. He closed his eyes and imagined how different his life would have been had he been able to sit like other normal people. He wondered if others realized the pain he had to go through daily when he had to shit.
As he was thinking of an answer, the dick-head dopers who were now too high to follow their Shehenshah’s instructions of sitting in kneel-down position, generally stood up and started dancing. Dalaal was already pained and so he joined the gang and danced and danced. Thus, the marriage ceremony finally got over.
Realizing that Dalaal was totally gone by the time he reached bed, Poda refused to get fucked by him. Dalaal didn’t argue much and went to crash off on a separate bed. Now Poda wasn’t very sure how the Tulsis and the Parvatis dressed while sleeping. I mean every time she had seen them on TV, they had been dressed like fools. So she decided to play safe and went to sleep in full gear. She was lucky the bed didn’t break under the load of unneeded jewelery that certainly must have weighed two times her own body weight. In the picture below, you see Poda moments after she got up the next day. Ever tried crashing like that? Don’t even try ‘coz it might prove to be lethal.
Dalaal had to leave for office early next day. By the time Poda woke up, he was already gone. Later that day, all hi-hellos happened as Poda was introduced to the several characters in Dalaal’s palace. The most important character who would play a crucial role later was a once-upon-a-time-hindi-pop-singer named Maha-panga. She, even after all these years , roamed with her band members and maintained a stupid band-dress-code. Dalaal gave her more respect than his own mother for the simple fact that as a kid he had been totally crazy over her song, nigodi kaisi jawaani hai. He had even made Maha-Panga a councilor in his court.
More about how Poda started singing bettter than Maha-panga and what happened to Poda’s cousin Choosamal and Dalaal’s jeeja Beraham in upcoming posts.
The time for King Bhaandmal to announce the successor had come. Whatever little respect he had for Choosamal, was lost over the period of time because of the way he sucked at sword-fighting and more than that, because of the fact that his daughter Poda had become an equally bad warrior. Besides these well proven reasons, he could also sense an incest relationship going on between Poda and Choosa. They had been caught making out a couple of times, but every time, Choosa (whose intelligence has already been established) escaped by terming the act as ‘guru-dakshina’.
One fine day, Bhaandmal went ahead and announced his son’s name as the successor, while Choosamal was asked to work under his son. This totally pissed off the angry young man. More so, the marriage of Poda with Khatam Singh was announced too. This left Choosa with absolutely no reason to hang on in Calm-air. He left the state with a small horse-gang of his to meet Shehenshah Dalaal’s sister’s husband Sadi-fuddeen. Now before I talk about what the two dudes talked about let me give a quick background on Sadi.
When Dalaal was still young and so was his sister, a saint had predicted that she would die if she got married to anyone whose facial hair, when superimposed over Dalaal’s facial hair, matched. Hence, in spite of his bull-dog looks, Sadi was accepted as Dalaal’s behnoi.
Now the problem was that, Sadi was actually a dog. He wanted to rule the nation by fucking off Dalaal. So as soon as Choosamal asked Sadi to help him get the throne of Calm-air, he agreed to help but at the same time made Choosa promise that in return, he would help him attack Delhi at the right time. Choosa was kinda surprised at Sadi’s hidden aspirations but he agreed on the condition that the coup be bloodless.
The news of the deal between Choosamal and Sadi-fuddeen soon reached King Bhaandmal who then got totally psyched out. He and kings of neighbouring states had already received will-you-be-mine types love letters from Shehenshah Dalaal. Choosa going against him was trouble exemplified. He decided against fighting the Mughals, unlike other neighbouring kings who were totally unwilling to compromise. So, when they heard about Bhaand’s decision, they started abusing him, and in the heat of the matter, Khatam Singh’s dad cancelled the engagement. Other kings also made it very clear that they won’t let anyone from their state marry anyone from Calm-air. Now, such a reaction was worse than any battle for Bhaandmal. Suddenly, he had put Poda’s virginity on stake. Who would fuck Poda? Even Choosa was gone!
Bhaandmal first thought of calling Choosamal back and giving him Poda so that he stopped cribbing about the loss of a kingdom (which was once ruled by his dad), kept Poda satisfied and helped him fight the Mughals. But this somehow still didn’t solve the problem of avoiding a battle totally. Then suddenly, a gem of an idea crossed Bhaand’s mind. If he was able to convince Dalaal himself to marry Poda, it would solve both the problems of a. Poda dying a virgin and b. entering into an unnecessary battle. Moreover,a hindu-muslim inter caste was better than an incest marriage any day. So well, he went ahead with the second idea and reached Dalaal’s place to let him know his condition for compromise.
When he reached there, Dalaal was busy fighting a fanatic pachyderm who loved crushing human cocks as the series of images below will illustrate.
Once Dalaal was done with taming-the-elephant-act and saving-a-human-cock, he took a shower and caught up with Bhaand and his chelaas. Dalaal, by the way had a strange problem in his rear which prevented him from sitting directly on his ass on any non-moving surface. So although he never faced any problem while riding a horse or a cock-crusher elephant, when it came to sitting on his thrown, or for that matter sitting on the ground, he always had to kneel-down (as vividly illustrated by the following two pictorial representations of his body posture).
Anyway, leaving aside the sad story of Dalaal’s ass and moving on with the main story, Bhaand mentioned his proposal to the Shehenshah. Dalaal told the King and his men that he would get back to them soon with an answer and bid them adieu. Once they were gone, he realized that it was time to get married and get sorta settled in life. More so, such a marriage would send the message about his religious tolerance to the entire nation, in turn bringing down the incidences of hindu-muslim riots that had become the order of the day. So soon, he sent a message to Bhaand letting him know that he was cool with the marriage.
Dalaal’s acceptance freaked Poda to death. She had grown up on a heavy dose of soaps like Kyoonki Saas bhi kabhi bahu thi (her clothing reflected that). So the very idea of getting married to a guy who didn’t even know what sindoor meant gave her a chill. She had always imagined herself doing the kind of drama that Tulsi aunty did in those serials. How would that be possible without having access to even a temple? Oh no, after the marriage, she doubted if she would still be regarded a Hindu. She needed help. But, unlike today, there was no Bala Saheb or Bajrang dal who could solve poor Poda’s problem.
For the first time in her life, Poda was totally totally missing Choosamal. S0 she wrote him a letter, asking him to come take her. But then she thought that Choosa would anyway return soon to get back his thrown. She could marry him then. More so, that would be a safer option, because in case Choosa failed to get back his kingdom, she could dump him and avoid being called a loser’s wife all her life. The bitch inside her took over and she never posted the letter. As she was thinking about other alternatives, her mom showed up and proposed an idea straight from one of those sissy soaps of which both ma-beti were ardent fans.
Though Poda cursed her mom from inside for thinking like a horny bitch, from outside she just LOLed over the idea. Now usually, when we seriously propose a stupid idea, and the other person starts laughing over it, we sometimes try to hide our embarrassment by saying ‘go die’. Rani Padmavetti went ahead a step further and not just said so but actually gave some real poison to her daughter. Such a dangerous present from her own mom made Poda realize that her life wasn’t very safe with his lunatic parents. That basically meant that she really didn’t have enough time to wait till Choosa finally showed up. So she quickly decided to meet Dalaal herself, and then presented him with her two conditions: a. he won’t force her to change her religion and b. he would let her have her own temple inside his palace. Now, though Dalaal never told anyone, he himself was an Ekta Kapoor soap addict, and had always enjoyed weeping over senti scenes, sipping beer on lonely nights as he watched the late night shows. He immediately agreed to Poda’s conditions and the marriage ceremony took place thereafter. Poda was all set to begin her new life as Tulsi.
The story shall move ahead in the parts to follow.
Country Industaana had a long history of sexual abuse. She had been molested and raped so many times that even she wont remember the exact number. The Mughals got horny for the beautiful nation sometime in 1400. Amongst all the Mughals who had a good time with Industaana, Emperor Dalaal-fuddeen-Fuckbar is said to have the best. This is the story of Fuckbar, how he fell in love with a Princess called Poda, how he got his nick and the likes. Before starting off with Dalaal’s story let me quickly give you a background on Poda and her family.
Basically, there were three main characters in Poda’s life, till of course Fuckbar happened: her dad King Bhaandmal, her mom Queen Padmavetti and her similar-aged cousin Prince Choosamal (who later grew up to be a look alike of Amitabh Bachchan, about which I shall talk more as the story progresses). Choosamal was an extremely sharp chap. His intelligence can be assessed from a small conversation between him and Poda, that followed immediately after an evil friend of Princess spilled colour all over her painting.
Like everyone else, Choosamal was slightly pained in life. His dad who was the original ruler of Kaam-air had died, letting Poda’s dad Bhaandmal takeover. He was doubtful about Bhaandmal letting him succeed later as the king of Kaam-air. However unlike Poda, he did not bring out his facial expressions that visibly. Let me move to Dalal’s story after throwing one last bit of trivia on Poda’s early years. Bhaandmal had engaged her to Ajaayabgadh’s prince Khatam Singh, even before her breasts were fully developed.
Alright, coming back to Dalaal, our main hero (yes, from now on I would refrain from calling him Fuckbar till, with the progress of the story, he finally gets the nick). Poor Dalaal lost his dad in 1555 and his kingdom was taken over by a desi ruler named Gaymu. To get back his kingdom, he fought the battle of Tannipat. Now Gaymu’s army was twice as big as Dalaal’s army. Also Dalaal was only thirteen years old then and could definitely not win the war.
Dalaal had a very trustworthy general called Beraham Kaun. Although Dalaal cursed him a lot from inside (because he would make him wear an extremely heave and uncomfortable metallic helmet), Dalaal needed him till he was big enough to handle things (and later, Poda) himself.
Beraham Kaun cracked a nice funda to win the battle of Tannipat. Gaymu, like every other gay had a nice sense for fashion. During the battle, he put on a sleek head-gear which showcased his eyes. Now, Beraham Kaun noticed this and got a helluva idea. He realized that Gaymu’s army would get too senti to fight the battle (even when it had double the Mughal’s strength), if it’s King lost an eye. So a Mughal sniper was hired to fuck one eye of Gaymu and weirdly enough, Beraham’s strategy worked perfectly.
Unlike his general, Dalaal was very raham-vaala and believed in the power of Kaho na Pyaar hai. He refused to behead Gaymu who had been captured as a prisoner of war. But then he was too small to stop Beraham from doing what he thought was good for the Mughals.
For the next six years after the battle, Beraham continued conquering more and more states, all in the name of Dalaal. By the way, six years were enough for Dalaal to get used to his helmet. He also grew up to become a tall and handsome man with a stupid mustache and funky side-locks. I am sure, Gaymu would have died to sleep with Dalaal, had he looked like this six years ago. Anyway, so one fine day after yet another small battle, as Beraham Kaun was about to behead the loser King, Dalaal asked Beraham to fuck off. He generally put some chumma vague fundays to his general. Basically he wanted to take revenge for all the years of carrying those 50 Kgs on his head, and that he did.
No one really knows whether Beraham Kaun ever cleared the GATE but rumors say that he later became the Chief Security officer of the institute. In the meanwhile, Poda had grown up to become a sex bomb and Choosamal, as I had mentioned earlier, a look-alike of Amitabh Bachchan.
Poda had realized that she sucked at painting and had given up on it. She had taken up sword fighting as her hobby instead, but unfortunately sucked at that also. But since Choosamal, who himself sucked at sword-fighting, was her guru, both of them never really realized how bad they were at the sport (till of course both got fucked in different ways, as we will see soon).
That’s enough for part one. More shall follow in coming parts. If you enjoyed reading the first part of the epic love story of Fuckbar and Poda, do leave comments.
When I am in the mood to talk and listen, I can win anyone’s heart.
When I am not in the mood, I am an ass.
Fuck me, I need fresh air.
My parents will reach Chennai on Saturday morning. And I am psyched. Suddenly I feel like they are intruding a life that had been so separate from them. At home, I am someone else. Here, at IIT I am someone totally different. Neither my mom, nor my dad has ever been to IIT Madras. In my first year, when I had first come to this place, I had come alone. During the course of time, people came. People left. I still am alone. Fuck me. I need fresh air.
Tonight, I will leave for Bangalore. Tomorrow I will be in IIM Bangalore. The business school has its culfest on. IIT Madras is participating in the dramatics event. The play is an edited version of Glengarry Glen Ross. I play a cop Baylen, who has like less than fifty words to speak, and is seen on the stage for like 5 of the 50 minutes that the play runs, but that’s okay. I didn’t get into the team because I was looking forward to display my talent as an actor. I got into the team because I like the team. It has some of the best actors insti has, and it’s always a pleasure to see them crack the characters on stage.
Had my parents not been coming on early Saturday morning, I would have loved to spend my weekend in Bangalore. But now, the only thing that I hope for is, I reach Chennai Central from Bangalore before them. If I am late, I am screwed.
Fuck me. I need fresh air.