So I am i the middle of a jungle with the wedding venue in sight, I could hear loud music and drums, and some woohoos in the distance. I am trying to put on my jeans, but somehow I have agreed to Levis motto, unbuttoned, because i have lost the main pinning button. I work quickly because the baraat was getting closer to the gate. Cousins were getting restless and relatives were looking for the "brother of the bride".
Struggling with my jeans, and press the belt around my waist tight enough. Then there was a herculean task of putting on this giant kurta with metal pads on the shoulders and a crown. Apparently the theme was Kings and Queens (not the gay ones, sorry). As I was struggling, one of the photographers ran past me, stopped , looked back, took out her camera, and started clicking holistically. As if she has seen a God. I was only in my jeans and my abdomen was as bare as the face of an actor before their performance. Absolutely blank, no flexing, strictly. I didn't pose, but she took a few pics, smiled at me and left with another cousin, who was just hurling abuses at me. I didn't have much time to digest so i hurried on to get my shit together. So I marched on towards the gates forgetting the crown on the bench near my open changing area.
I reached just in the nick of time to witness the amalgamation of the baraat with the welcoming ladkiwalas (us). So i hurried with my kurta and loose jeans, but unlike other brothers of the bride, I wasn't wearing my crown.
More reprimands and lewd remarks followed, but I couldn't heed to any of them as I rushed towards my recent quarantine spot to pick my crown. Surprisingly, the ghouls and kleptomaniacs were out of reach of that place and I could retrieve myself feeling like an anxious King. Finally, arrived with almost the groom making an entry, I was right behind that procession.
It all felt like a tsunami that I went on doing tasks after tasks and posing with cousins, eating when i could get time to breathe. Food was the only orgasm I was getting that evening. And speaking of orgasm, guess what happened to the very beautifully dressed camera woman. She had a very forgettable face, height upto 5'3", and wore a lehnga with a an ornament around her head, obediently following the theme. So yes she seemed more like a yes ma'am lady. Did her work diligently and with professionalism, until it came to me, when she slipped into this coquettish cat. And just as my eyes were getting heavier than some of Metallica songs , and dimming sight of her .
There was water on my face, and a t shirt and shorts on my body and a tranquil afternoon with a furious breath of mom. Happy Dreaming she said!
Struggling with my jeans, and press the belt around my waist tight enough. Then there was a herculean task of putting on this giant kurta with metal pads on the shoulders and a crown. Apparently the theme was Kings and Queens (not the gay ones, sorry). As I was struggling, one of the photographers ran past me, stopped , looked back, took out her camera, and started clicking holistically. As if she has seen a God. I was only in my jeans and my abdomen was as bare as the face of an actor before their performance. Absolutely blank, no flexing, strictly. I didn't pose, but she took a few pics, smiled at me and left with another cousin, who was just hurling abuses at me. I didn't have much time to digest so i hurried on to get my shit together. So I marched on towards the gates forgetting the crown on the bench near my open changing area.
I reached just in the nick of time to witness the amalgamation of the baraat with the welcoming ladkiwalas (us). So i hurried with my kurta and loose jeans, but unlike other brothers of the bride, I wasn't wearing my crown.
More reprimands and lewd remarks followed, but I couldn't heed to any of them as I rushed towards my recent quarantine spot to pick my crown. Surprisingly, the ghouls and kleptomaniacs were out of reach of that place and I could retrieve myself feeling like an anxious King. Finally, arrived with almost the groom making an entry, I was right behind that procession.
It all felt like a tsunami that I went on doing tasks after tasks and posing with cousins, eating when i could get time to breathe. Food was the only orgasm I was getting that evening. And speaking of orgasm, guess what happened to the very beautifully dressed camera woman. She had a very forgettable face, height upto 5'3", and wore a lehnga with a an ornament around her head, obediently following the theme. So yes she seemed more like a yes ma'am lady. Did her work diligently and with professionalism, until it came to me, when she slipped into this coquettish cat. And just as my eyes were getting heavier than some of Metallica songs , and dimming sight of her .
There was water on my face, and a t shirt and shorts on my body and a tranquil afternoon with a furious breath of mom. Happy Dreaming she said!
No comments:
Post a Comment