Letter To Cupid, 2012

Statutory Warning: The following post contains words and imagery that some people may deem as inappropriate. I have used the word ‘fuck’ twice and I talk about raising my middle fingers to someone, giving that someone the message to go fornicate with themselves. I have used a photograph of a winged child-thing found dead, face down, with an arrow in its back, lying in a pool of its own filth. If you or anyone around you find(s) my language and mannerisms offensive, please click here. Else, continue reading. 

Cupid is Dead

Dear Cupid Asshole

Here we are again, in 2012. I’m still here, single as fuck, and you’re still there, dancing around with your gay wings and your gay arrows. I wrote to you earlier, around 4 years ago and you promised me that the next time would be different. You are a filthy liar and nothing more. If I look back on this year, all you’ve given me is hope, despair and embarrassment. What the hell is the matter with you, jackass? Can’t you just do your job right?

So, in the light of all that you’ve done for me this year and for the past so many years before, I raise both my fingers to you. Go suck an orange, kid.

Do you remember how I signed off my last letter to you? You don’t? Drop Dead.

In all sincerity,

Go Fuck Yourself.

Valentine’s Day: A Cynical Deconstruction

Cupid Deserves To Die!Its finally here. The Day of Love. Loads of people around the world get married on this day, conceive their first-born kid on this day, break up and commit suicide on this day. I find the last two facts more fascinating, for purely statistical reasons.

I have been known by a lot of names on this blog, and ‘Love Guru’ comes to mind first. I have been known to write extensively on the subject of love, talking constantly about my girlfriends, praising their beauty and snubbing their stupidity, proclaiming my life-long love for a few and announcing my denouncement of a few. I have given advice for single men and women on how to pick up members of their opposite sex and I have given advice on how to break up without driving the other person to kill themselves or worse, commit homicide. But this year, in glorified 2011, I have decided to change tracks and expound on the disadvantages of being in love, the utter stupidity of having a ‘Day’ to express your feelings and cynically deconstruct the notion of paradise.

I am not doing this out of spite. No. On the contrary, its taken me 27 years to understand the true nature of relationships, the flimsy, see-through negligee that people cloak their statuses with. Never have I been this clear about my thoughts and feelings. Never have I been this single.

I don’t like it one bit – the whole world waiting on one stupid day on which, eons ago, some saint was burned at the stake. There have been stories written about this day, books published, movies made and documentaries shot, and all of them talk about the same lousy thing – if you love someone, you’ll pop the question on V-day. Bullshit. If you love someone, you don’t need a “day” to do it. After all, its a fantastic excuse to get someone into bed. Apart from this, I don’t think this day has any other relevance. I pity the  poor unborn souls who get conceived each year on this day – they are either a drunken mistake, a sober mistake or a mistake of improper contraception. A mistake, nonetheless.

I hate it when people text me asking who my ‘Valentine” is. I feel like slapping the crap out of them and wishing them a happy valentine’s day. Of course, I can’t do that. Or maybe I should. Ending up in jail on assault charges seems to be the best thing to happen to someone on this day. They will be spared the nonsense that wraps the world in a dense web of stupidity, pointlessness and vague references to a vague concept called ‘Love’.

Note to Cupid: Die, asshole.

Vagaries of Love :)

Is it possible for someone to fall in love without actually having seen the other person, or even spoken to the person? A few days ago, I would have said no, until I found myself in a situation where every instance of my daily life involved wondering about that elusive girl, that faceless angel who haunts my dreams and realities, the girl who is unlike any other I have known, maybe because I don’t know her and yet I can’t help but feel that I’ve known her all my life. 🙂

Let me be the first to confess that I’m a workaholic for five days in a week with little or no social life on these days. Weekends for me are meant to unwind, to let myself go berserk and loosen the hold I have put on myself during the week. Lately, all I’ve been doing on weekends is sitting in front of an open Gtalk window, waiting for that special girl to come online. I know, I’m a little mad at times.

Women have this special power over men – I’ve experienced this a lot many times before – and that is the power to make men their slaves. I don’t know if I’m the only guy who’s ever experienced this strange, but beautiful phenomenon, but I found myself being drawn into a web of words, emotions and feelings while saying a simple “Hi” or a “Hello” with this girl. Ah, well… Wherever you are, I hope you remember chatting online with this hopeless romantic. 🙂

I am forced to eat my words against Cupid. That senseless idiot has struck me again! I wonder where he was hiding. I had been very careful to avoid getting caught in his line of fire and I almost thought that I was immune to his arrows. But alas, he has proved to be a bit more powerful than me. 🙂

Ms. Charming Girl, if you’re reading this, please don’t be alarmed. I am not a maniac and I am not a stalker, and I will not dwell on your unattainability. I can accept the fact that the best things in life are the hardest to come by and most of them are already taken. I was perhaps a bit slow to arrive at the scene. This post is just a small dedication to you and your charming wit – I love the way your alphabets and words make perfect sense to me… 😉

This is perhaps the next best thing to writing a love note in a piece of parchment and rolling it up in an airtight bottle, corking the top and throwing it in the sea, because at least this way, you can have a chance to know what I feel like. Thanks for giving me your phone number when I asked you for it in my dream. Your voice sounded very sweet indeed! 🙂

Letter to Cupid :)

Dear Asshole Cupid,

When you first met me, you chose a lovely, red, pointy arrow and shot it right through my heart. I bled and bled but you didn’t really care. You moved on to your next victim, impaling everyone you met! I so hate you for pulling that arrow out forcefully and hurting me more! When you did that to me, you not only ensured that two lives would never be the same again, but you also made sure that I can never be affected by your childish charms and sharp arrows again!

Just because you’re a child with wings and you carry around a bow and arrow, you think you can play around with people’s lives and emotions and feelings? Who gave you that right, you idiot child? Just because you are written about in books and sung about in stupid love songs, you think that you are the ultimate puppet master, making your victims dance to your tunes? You’re nothing but a spoiled brat, you hear me? Your curly, blonde hair, your red and rosy cheeks and those brilliant blue (apparently) innocent eyes may fool others but not me! I think I know what you’re planning for me!

You want me to take the tried and tested path of begging for your arrow to be impaled again in my heart, drinking myself silly in filthy places and in my stupor, calling out for that cardiac pain again and stabbing myself with chemicals in the hope of seeing your bright wings again – think again, asshole Cupid! I am not going to give you that pleasure. I am well and truly in control of my emotions and for all I care, you can take those arrows of yours and thrust it up your ass. I don’t really care how you do it, but given a chance, I’d do it for you myself! I dare you to come before me again, as you did last time! Stand before me like a man and face me!

Oh, I forgot – you’re a child! 😀

So, here’s what I really had to say to you, Cupid. Drop Dead! 😀

Yours sincerely,
Nikhil