On the Other Side of the Shadow,

Virginia wolf wrote,

“Across the broad continent of a woman’s life falls the shadow of a sword. On one side all is correct, definite, orderly; the paths are straight, the trees regular, the sun shaded; escorted by gentlemen, protected by policemen, wedded and buried by clergymen, she has only to walk demurely from cradle to grave and no one will touch a hair of her head. But on the other side all is confusion. Nothing follows a regular course. The paths wind between bogs and precipices; the trees roar and rock and fall in ruin.”

It is destiny that decides which side of shadow you happen to be on, some are chosen to be on one side by design and others fall on the other side by default……and some crazy souls by choice…. I am crazy, and had no other choice. So how is life on the other side, pretty lonely and bizarre.

Let’s not get into the hyperbolic shit talk and come straight to the point, or the question for today….

Who do you hang out with when you are 37, single, heterosexual, earn decent bucks, have a great sense of humor, a brain that thinks and live in Lahore? (Did I forget to mention FABULOUS??)


The options are limited when you are a woman……..actually,  scarce would be a better word. On top of that, when you have spent last couple of years outside the country, every one sort of forgets about you.

At this age, friendships are generally governed by spouse/in-laws/kids/work/neighborhood/convenience axis. Everyone is settled into their own zones, and somehow you don’t fit in, in any of them. But man is a social animal and it is necessary for sanity to have real conversation with real people, and it feels good to hold someone’s hand or hug someone for no rhyme or reason.

Lets dissect the options, I will cross off the females, and talk about species Malekind. They generally fall into two categories, Nice Guys, who sometimes act as assholes, and Assholes, who sometimes act like Nice guys…… at the end of the day… you are going to end up with one and the same thing.

How many men of my age, are in my city who are single, good looking, chivalrous, charming, employed, stable, sensible, straight, can hold a decent conversation and understand and laugh at a joke? Two?? Three?? No, I am being optimistic here………. And what are the chances they are interested in talking to me about existential crisis rather than chasing and schmoozing the lot of twenty something, gym going, diet cola sipping, lettuce chewing, size zero hotties with perkier boobs, firmer bottoms, skimpier clothes and single brain cells…………….Zero, Zilch……..Nada. I discovered one actually, a few months back, referred by a darling friend, who got all clean on a background check and scored a darn good “8/BB/+-,–,–,” on my guy scoring scale

(ImageIt’s a complex system of scoring I have invented, the number is for looks, followed by the letters for personality and intellect, and a plus or minus for snog, marry, wish to remain in contact after ten years. The gold standard would be a John Abraham look alike with Robert Langdon Intellect, I would gladly and madly want to fall in love, make babies and grow old with, yes he is the nonexistent 10/AA/++,++,++)

So this one, who I upgraded to 8.25/AB/++,–,+-, after the third date, left the country………..Brilliant, fucking brilliant………. But still, when my cuddle quota gets dangerously low, I send him a stray cyber Hug…….

Then come the creeps, the nasty Harami/Tharki/Downright Bhenchod breed, they can be of any age, weight, size, caste, shape or marital status, trust me, they are abundant………… This testosterone charged gang is out on a prowl and think that every women who accepts their friend request on Facebook or forwards them a cheesy text on whattsapp is dyeing to test their virility, and if she is slutty enough to return their sleazy smile, she is definitely up for a ride, But excuse me dudes, smile and screw are not synonyms, sharing a meal does not have to end up in sharing a bed, and exchanging glances do not, I repeat, Do Not, always guarentee an agreement to exchange body fluids. Oh, and texting, here is my number, fuck me maybe, is pathetically inappropriate and beyond tacky……….so is asking to meet for coffee past midnight because your life is a mess… Or your wife is hormonal……..Grow up, deal with your own shit… or find someone else willing to wipe your tears and Sorry Arse……

On behalf of all the women I would like to assure you that ,we, the smart sassy sexy tech savvy newage non blondes, are very well aware of the presence and function of that thing between your legs, but just because you have one, does not necessarily mean you need to be one…and for fuck sake, stop acting like one………

Listen guys, if I want to have a juicy piece of meat in me, I will go to my favorite restaurant and have a stake (Very Well Done) followed by an Orgasmic dessert and a smoke, Blisss!!!! it sure as hell will last longer than three minutes, be more satisfying and will not give me an STD, and if my pictures or video while having that, get uploaded on Facebook or go viral, I don’t care!!!!!!!!

Next time you see a very well groomed auntie, enjoying her meal on her own, please, for goodness sake, don’t tch, tch her, at no cost send her your number written on tissue papers, and don’t you even dare to drop your visiting cards boasting your designation at her feet. And will you Puhleezz stop sending anonymous messages on Facebook and leave her alone if she ignores your 43rd friend request.

It is not hard to trace an ip adress, track a number, or tell your wife/mother/psycho gf/sister (any or all of them, as, if and when required)……

FYI: I carry a licensed, loaded CZ Duty P07.

Life on the other side of the shadow is twisted, troubled and complicated, but it is one hell of a ride, if it is meant to be SOLO, let it be………………

P.S:  I love my Girl/Gay/Platonic Friends.



7th August, 2013.



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