Expresso Love

As one gets older, one definitely gets wiser. And I’ll tell you why. Because the longer you live, the more opportunity you have to do asinine things. And you always learn these lessons the hard way. So it sort of sticks in your head unlike the French I tried to learn by having fun.

Now I know that when I go for long drives, say drive till Pondicherry to see friends and carry wine bottles for them (taking wine bottles to Pondy in itself is a foolhardy thing), I must always buy an extra bottle to finish off on the journey. And never ever carry tempting sweets and chakli. (I’m not going to translate this, if you think it’s an alien term then please search).

Talking of alcohol, another lesson learnt the hard way is that you must not drink at least 24 hours before you get a tattoo. Not even sniff or sip something almost non-alcoholic like beer. You can, provided you like to bleed all over the place. In spite of watching all the episodes of House and Grey’s Anatomy, I still didn’t know that alcohol is a blood thinner. However will I become a quack now!

I have also learnt that not all links on the web are useless. There are links on the web that tell you how you can photograph well in spite of having paunches and love handles the size of lorry tyres. There is a way of positioning yourself that can make you look svelte. Of course, going on a diet and exercising is probably easier.

What is also easy is advising friends on relationship problems. These are often very similar to the ones I’ve had myself in relationships. It really is a piece of cake and I actually start feeling intelligent. But of course all that ‘no matter what, do not call him/write to him/message him’ doesn’t work quite so effectively when I have set out to make an arse of myself for sex or love. My modus operandi has always been land on doorstep early in the morning or late in the night when object of affection is bound to be in the house or gate-crash on a party; create a scene, beg/fight bitterly; leave the place in tears; alienate self from object of affection. The consistency with which my modus operandi fails to keep the love alive is mind-boggling, really.

I have also learnt the importance of reading manuals. They know what they are writing about, these tech writers.

And the most important lesson I learnt last night is: Refrain from drinking copious amounts of espresso at 9.30 pm just because it tastes bloody good and you haven’t had such good black coffee since – well, you can’t remember. Because if you do, then you end up lying awake all through the night (in spite of the sleeping pills) and writing quasi-drunk blog posts like this one.


About Bhumika's Boudoir

I love to laugh, and end up being a part of high drama and stormy emotion even when I don't pursue it. Being creative, and communicating with people get me going. I enjoy all the good things in life especially those that are slightly risque, and apologise little, if ever, for all that I do. Literature is a passion and so is music.
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6 Responses to Expresso Love

  1. Rheea says:

    All beverages have their adverse effects, but oh coffee, it is by far the worst. Beats blood spilling all over your newly tattooed skin.


  2. Marvin Grey says:

    Looks like you are having an ephiphany of sorts in a coffee cup. It is pretty cool when you add the fact you are also sleep deprived and still managed to remember all things old and wise.

    The only wise thing I can remember right now is to keep extra notes of Rs.10/- for the hijras on Bangalore – Mumbai train, which I am taking during Christmas.


  3. eveline says:

    Sending you good vibes and energy. Oh. I *so* hear you. Life has been rather like trying to pry a ten pound roast outa my ass with a plastic fork lately.

    Here have a mug of tea or beer? Heh, I go for both, in rapid succession. Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

    It will get better. Right before it gets 10 degrees suckier. But, we are all here with you.

    “Drink tea….destroy everything!”

    Peace woman,


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