Island Blues

Don’t get me wrong, I am happy. Actually, content would be a better word. I have never felt this content in a very long time. And so it’s all good.

But somewhere suddenly this evening, I feel a little sad. Because after the latest love/sex episode, I’ve given up on ever meeting a guy who has balls which means that I either have to turn lesbian (which I’m not sure I want to do because the women I want are all straight as an arrow – even if they are curved just right) or just stay eternally single all my life. And I was looking forward to that till everyone almost sang to me, ‘give love/at least sex a chance’. And I did and look what that did. Men with no balls. Story of all our lives, I guess. Even though Terror # 1 said that he is different and is very ballsy. And I still find that hard to believe.

I think all this introspection is because the honeymoon I’d dreamed of is irrevocably off. Nothing’s gonna come out of what I thought of as a shag fest. And honestly, the guy was nice and fun even if he had no balls. And I’m feeling all nostalgic and grown-up. It’s not quite pleasant. When I was younger, I would have dealt with this differently and ended up miserable but satisfied. I would have been stupid and done silly stuff like create a scene, have arbid fights with people, chase after something I wasn’t even sure I wanted anymore simply because it was suddenly inaccessible to me.

That’s what I would have done with the self-proclaimed mama’s boy whom I would have chased at (just like a straight man would have done) till I either had him (and then wondered – OMG! What do I do now!) or he’d have left the country unable to bear such intense pursuit. And then I’d have been miserable and written poetry. But now that I’m older, I’ve just decided to stay friends. Because with great age comes great responsibility and the knowledge of consequences. Which is, frankly, such a bummer. So I just behave and act all decorous and friendly and distant when I really want to throw a tantrum and cry like a three and a half-year old who wants something he can’t have does. Like Deepu, my neighbour does.

I feel alone. Like an island. Not in a lonely, pathetic way but more in a I-have-to-be-responsible-for-myself-from-now-on way which is just the pits, you know. Though it doesn’t really make sense because I did acquire Husband Number 3 recently. For his house. And his study. I fell in love with his house. And so I had to marry him. After you have two husbands you’ve married for love, I think it’s perfectly fine to get all materialistic and marry for house. Besides, Husband Number 2 refuses to take my advice and invest in property. So I’m quite pleased that I’m back to being all polygamous and everything. Only it’s not enough. I want something more. I brewed my own cup of tea in Husband Number 3’s house. That sort of thing immediately funks me out.

I like waking up and announcing to the world – ‘Hello, I’m up. I’m hungry.’ And have someone get me my breakfast and cup of morning tea. I miss being pampered. That is it. And now I’m missing my men so damn much because they are all way too far and in different time zones and way too busy to pamper me. I don’t blame them.

And this is not really a post. I just want it documented that I wish I’d written this song because it’s so perfect and fits in so well with my mood now which is not really blue but more like a sort of purplish blue as it were. Like when the sun sets and all the bright colours disappear and just before the indigo blue of twilight begins. I’m there. Yes, that’s where I am. In between an in between. And singing this song to I don’t know whom.

The only solace I have is that just now Husband number 1 (who is actually an ex but we are still mad about each other) likened my writing to Simone DeBeavour’s more juicy quotes. Like this one – I am too intelligent, too demanding, and too resourceful for anyone to be able to take charge of me entirely. No one knows me or loves me completely. I have only myself.

‘And I’m looking for me or anyone like me.’ (Tooh doo! and other jazz tunes…)


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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14 Responses to Island Blues

  1. gopikann says:

    Remember the morning I woke Freety and you with bread omelet and chai during my last visit? 🙂
    All said and done, we stand by each other. But yes! At the end, all you have is you and that’s not as bad as others might want us to think it is. In fact, it is bloody good!


    • Yes, we have each other. That’s good.
      And when we get together, you guys make me breakfast and tea in bed which is better.
      And I have only myself which is the best thing ever.
      But I am still singing Koop and missing you all. That’s all.


  2. Sanchita says:

    Do what I have decided….sleep with whomever, whenever, wherever & balls to the rest of the world! Keep the emotions in check & you have a wonderful time! Because, really! In the end, you die alone….morbid thought, but true, nevertheless….


    • Oh balls to the rest of the world at all times – that’s been my mantra since I turned six or seven, I guess. No, it was just yesterday and I was living jazz blues. So yes. And you are right, as long as your emotions are not involved, you can really have great fun with a man. And I can’t afford any emotional involvement considering Husbands 1 and 2 are men I love very deeply and passionately and that leaves all of us too tired to invest in other people. I just miss my men, that’s all.


  3. The feeling of contentment and the giving up of hope of ever finding “a guy who has balls”…

    We’re definitely in the same frame of mind these days! Funnily enough, I’ve been mulling over a post that is similar in tone.

    P.S. Terror #1 is like an infectious rash on Blogosphere. He’s here too?


    • Yes, he’s here. He proclaimed that I have never met any of the guys who do have balls – like him. Obviously that earned him a link. And you shouldn’t write such a blog post. Ever since I wrote it I’ve been basically blah. Pun wholly unintended.


  4. Terror #1 says:

    Ah the little mentions…Must thank you for the link to my blog…

    Well with regard to your post… As I tell most of my lady friends “It may be easier said than done but the best way to live life is to have fun and do what you want with who you want and where you want to and when you want to. ” Like you I believe in the stay single without attachment and emotions. Although in bed you gotta make sure you have the attention and your involved – who wants a stone in bed eh?

    @Basically Blah… What can I do? I can’t let you have all the fun of having my presence solely on your blog. Must spread good tidings to everybody around… You know I’m your favorite itch that you can’t get rid off…


    • T#1, you are welcome. And I follow what you tell your lady friends almost as a life principle. Only this time the guy I almost shagged and I are not seeing eye-to-eye. He’s really sweet and wants to be good friends now that he’s marrying a woman his mamma found him. As a friend, he is/has been one of the best. As a lover, he was both attentive and extraordinarily involved. So there. I can’t do anything. Can you imagine the buggering frustration?!


  5. Terror #1 says:

    Oh an other thing I forgot… Us guys do also have a similar dilemma… The fun loving girls around us all want relationships and the ones who want the sex stay in different cities… Guess that’s where the confusion comes to us with oh so feeble brains… – To love and cherish or use and dispose – Burgers and fries or TP – In sickness and health or die and don’t care…you get the drift I’m sure…


    • The truth is no straight girl can come right out and say she just wants a shag. She has to take the relationship route. Because if she doesn’t, she will no longer be seen as a fun, loving girl but more as some sort of Mata Hari. And of course, she’d then get a thousand prank/miss/sexually explicit calls and messages from men around the globe. And that is verily the tragedy of dealing with oh so feeble brains without balls.

      At such times, I wish I were a gay man. All I’d need to do is get on to Planet Romeo find someone who was free and caught my fancy and shagged him senseless. And if it led to something, great. If not, it’s all about ‘Merry meet, merry part.’ Of course, they have their own tragedies too – like how do I come out of the closet.

      Well, all in all, an unfair world, what?


  6. Both flatulence-inducing food. So it’s bound to raise a stink either way.

    And I refuse to bite the bait 😛


  7. eveline says:

    I know you weren’t looking for it, but kudos to you for putting this out there. If people know they aren’t the only ones who get this way “for no reason” I think there’s some healing in it.
    Life is hard right now but I think two things about it, 1. It could be worse and 2. This too shall pass. That + booze + friends = we will be fine.

    Sending you good thoughts. You are talented and obviously making worthwhile contributions to society (I seem to think so!!!) so I’m rooting for a good long run for you…


    • Thank you, my darling Eveline.

      Life is not hard right now – that was my gripe with it. I was missing doing drama, that’s all. And I was missing my men which has become a state of being these days.

      But when life does get bad, I never never ever say – it could be worse. I tried it once and guess what happened? It did get worse. And I don’t like ‘this too shall pass’ either. Because if you wish that for the bad times then you have to accept it uncomplainingly for the happy times. And the not complaining sucks! I mean, I’d run out of things to write!

      I’m glad I’m making worthwhile contribution to society. I think so too. Soon may be I will run it. So it’s really a good thing that you are rooting for a good long run for me. And I will wish you many French happy happies. 🙂 Muah.


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