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09/15/2010

On the sea side

Last Friday (Eid), I decided to enjoy the first sunrays of the end of the monsoon by lazing on a bench on the Bandra promenade (Carter Road).

And here I was. My (recently washed) hair in the wind, my aviator sunglasses on my nose, Sweet Things by U2 playing at maximum volume in my cask. I open my eyes, the sea, nothing else. And then, a head pops up. Then a bare ass. Then two hands pulling up a pair of trousers. Then a second head, a second ass, a second pair of hands.

Fuck man.

What about poetry??


Carter Rd.JPG

09/13/2010

A cunning trick…

A couple of months after my arrival in India, I had to take a cab from Mumbai airport to Pune. I was a bit wary of rip-offs but I still got into a taxi that agreed to take me to Pune for 1 500 rupees (an almost decent price).

The same taxi dropped me right outside the airport premises, to another taxi. In a dark lane. This story did not sound too good.

The driver asked me to give him the money and I handled 3 notes of 500 rupees to him. He told me I had done a mistake and given 100 rs notes. Since these notes are very similar and it was very dark, I took 2 notes back and gave 2 new notes of 500.

And he was bald enough to tell me I had done the same mistake again!! I understood he had f… me and turned furious. He did not insist and took me safely to Pune.

Raaaaaaaaaa! That was my first and so far only big rip-off and it taught me to be cautious (not too expensive a lesson at the end…) 

 

08/04/2010

Me white girl, me whore

After almost 4 years in India, Indian guys can still disappoint me…

You are nice, friendly and they think they can bang you.

You tell them you have a boyfriend and they think it doesn’t matter, they can still bang you (she is white right??)…

 

I happened to meet an Indian guy in an “expat” event (the only one I ever went to) and he seemed pretty descent – educated, finance job and just nice. And I thought it could do no harm to my (sleeping) social life to get some friends…

 

I then was honestly too busy to meet him and also got pissed off when he started calling me “darling” or “love” in his texts. He told me I could only delete the texts if I didn’t want trouble with my boyfriend. Well, asshole, I don’t hide anything to him…

 

But, then, a month later, I got a little soft and agreed for coffee. I changed before and put my un-sexiest clothes on. It rapidly turned into a nightmare, with the guy getting onto all the clichés about Europeans he could think of, like:

-          We are all rich enough to travel in India,

-          We work less hours, earn loads of money,

-          We don’t care about our parents (we don't even love them),

-          We all love India and want to give up our nationalities – I had never heard that one before,

-          We all get divorced 3-4 times.

 

Of course I forgot the most important of all: “all white girls are whores”.

No need of words, he just acted: hugged me when we said bye, kissed me in the neck and pressed his penis on my thigh.

SICK. They make me sick.