It took me a rather long battle to win in my head before writing this. The incidents might be framed or rather fictitious, any serious consideration is deeply forbidden.
Love is in air for our dear Gujju. He has searched for it, begged for it, lusted it, yet never found it, up until now. He ties new bonds, and enters realms of those sacred dreamy promise-lands. That too with a girl. Unbelievable. Believing myself to be the best man, it is an honor to roll in the credits before a silent warrior-within takes on his journey, finally with a pillion rider for his FZ, which he had incidentally bought using my money. This saintly, pure at heart, "gujju "warrior is a picture of resolute determination towards conquering those battles inside his head. The question of "WHAT? WHAT sagar WHAT?" is still being sought for answers. Those scars are deep, they kept him a hungry lusty beast.
We all had our doubts about Gujju. Adi, and I, with utmost horror recall those nightly-adventures of Gujju with SunnyKaBaap. A signal filled with love and a gentle reminder of "its night, lets sleep", was foreplay for a night of sheer terror, for people, sleeping in adjoining rooms, filled with creaking sounds of rusty springs from a battered mattresses, broken by muffled shrieks. Pain and pleasure. Immense ferocity ending in a soft embrace. The result of those nights was a broken back for one and lust-satisfied blissful day for the other. Despite those ghastly, goose chasing, bumpy nights, we now are glad to hear that it had not left a mental scar on Gujju. He is straight but with a lingering back ache. After a lot of pleading and begging for mercy, the lord has shown our Gujju a "straight" road. Love is finally in air.
Gujju is still the machine we all admire, for his neatness and adherence to schedule, be it washing his clothes or shaving his beard. Even the speed at which he eats his food is timed to schedule. It is his heart that is priceless. We, the "Burger Generation", pledge sincere loyalty to him who saved us from starving. We owe our dog-like loyalty and faithfulness to Gujju. He would inadvertently break his sleep to fetch some food for us lazy fat asses. He would feed us water. In case of emergency, we could safely bank on using Gujju's soap, comb, razor, towel, milk, clothes, socks, even wear his jockeys in some instances, when the maid had lifted ours. He wouldn't mind, and even if he did, we really never cared of it then. But now that he is stepping into a new land, leaving a gaping hole in our lives, and no free rides to have cold cocoas, we stop to get a hold of those moments.
Gujju will remain in my memories as an under utilized stud, a gujju stallion with no one to ride. He has seen more action at night with "Lina" and "rikimaru" in forests of dota than in real life. A true geek, with solid interiors and attractive exteriors, more appreciated with guys than girls. A true brother, who carried his own birthday cake from the bakery. A real gem.
My parting words would be stolen from Johnny Depp and altered to make me appear enlightened. "Life is not so much about the destination, which for all of us is death, but the journey, which is bliss if traveled upon with the right companion".
Love is in air for our dear Gujju. He has searched for it, begged for it, lusted it, yet never found it, up until now. He ties new bonds, and enters realms of those sacred dreamy promise-lands. That too with a girl. Unbelievable. Believing myself to be the best man, it is an honor to roll in the credits before a silent warrior-within takes on his journey, finally with a pillion rider for his FZ, which he had incidentally bought using my money. This saintly, pure at heart, "gujju "warrior is a picture of resolute determination towards conquering those battles inside his head. The question of "WHAT? WHAT sagar WHAT?" is still being sought for answers. Those scars are deep, they kept him a hungry lusty beast.
We all had our doubts about Gujju. Adi, and I, with utmost horror recall those nightly-adventures of Gujju with SunnyKaBaap. A signal filled with love and a gentle reminder of "its night, lets sleep", was foreplay for a night of sheer terror, for people, sleeping in adjoining rooms, filled with creaking sounds of rusty springs from a battered mattresses, broken by muffled shrieks. Pain and pleasure. Immense ferocity ending in a soft embrace. The result of those nights was a broken back for one and lust-satisfied blissful day for the other. Despite those ghastly, goose chasing, bumpy nights, we now are glad to hear that it had not left a mental scar on Gujju. He is straight but with a lingering back ache. After a lot of pleading and begging for mercy, the lord has shown our Gujju a "straight" road. Love is finally in air.
Gujju is still the machine we all admire, for his neatness and adherence to schedule, be it washing his clothes or shaving his beard. Even the speed at which he eats his food is timed to schedule. It is his heart that is priceless. We, the "Burger Generation", pledge sincere loyalty to him who saved us from starving. We owe our dog-like loyalty and faithfulness to Gujju. He would inadvertently break his sleep to fetch some food for us lazy fat asses. He would feed us water. In case of emergency, we could safely bank on using Gujju's soap, comb, razor, towel, milk, clothes, socks, even wear his jockeys in some instances, when the maid had lifted ours. He wouldn't mind, and even if he did, we really never cared of it then. But now that he is stepping into a new land, leaving a gaping hole in our lives, and no free rides to have cold cocoas, we stop to get a hold of those moments.
Gujju will remain in my memories as an under utilized stud, a gujju stallion with no one to ride. He has seen more action at night with "Lina" and "rikimaru" in forests of dota than in real life. A true geek, with solid interiors and attractive exteriors, more appreciated with guys than girls. A true brother, who carried his own birthday cake from the bakery. A real gem.
My parting words would be stolen from Johnny Depp and altered to make me appear enlightened. "Life is not so much about the destination, which for all of us is death, but the journey, which is bliss if traveled upon with the right companion".
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