Only morons disrespect women. Do not be one!

We live in a country called India where mythical women are respected more than real women. I, being a guy, am terribly ashamed that every other day there is a case of rape or molestation happening somewhere in my country.

People who should be taking cudgels and taking the perpetrators to jail or prosecute them give comments where they end up saying that the women who was the victim was at fault either because of their attire or paint a picture of a lecherous woman who ended up getting what she wanted! Ridiculous!

Some of the comments by our very own netas which are downright repulsive go unnoticed in some corner whereas they should have been jailed for making those remarks.

Some of the dumbest and “Don’t-you-know-I-am-an-idiot?” remarks by some of our very own politicians are given below:

Boys and girls should be married by the time they turn 16, so that they do not stray… this will decrease the incidents of rape-  Sube Singh, Panchayat leader’s ideas to prevent rape
Our culture doesn’t back smoking by women -Health Ministry

To my understanding, consumption of fast food  contributes to such incidents (rape). Chowmein leads to  hormonal imbalance evoking an urge to indulge in such acts. – Jitender Chhatar, a thua khap panchayat leader on rape

BSP MP Rajpal Saini : “Don’t give mobile phones to girls. If they have one, take it away. What are they losing anyway?”

“Rape cases are on a rise in the country because men and women interact with each other more freely now.” – Shmt. Mamata Banerjee

Now, would you even believe that these sort of statements come from the very people at the helm. The point is, we do not respect our women. Objectification of women is so common that it is almost accepted as normal and becoming of a guy who has his hormones running on a treadmill.

Not to forget the Guwahati molestation case where 50 beasts molested a women in full public view with a TV reporter instigating the crowd! Just imagine the trauma and anguish that poor girl would have undergone. What was even worse were the comments which ensued from our elected representatives and other laymen berating the hapless girl for having ventured in a bar to drink. Preposterous!

We shout on the top of our voices with eloquent words that our Bharatiya naari is the ultimate summation of all things good and women should be revered. But there is not an iota of truth in what actually transpires in our part of the world.

I am not gonna talk about dowry deaths, female infanticide or the other travails that women undergo as I am no authority to speak on it, but I have seen people, even some of the allegedly “educated” illiterates who think women should sway according to the whims of men.

All I am going to tread on is the way men in India treat its women. Women are just objects here.

“She wears revealing clothes, what else do you expect us to do?”

“She deserved to be raped?”

“Why else would she go to a pub?”

and the most absurd one-”We are men, that is what we do”

Why do not men realize that a woman dresses up because she loves to dress up and not to pander to their sexual frustrations. Allow women what they would love to do! The moment you character assassinate a woman you know on even hearsay, you stoop to a new level of grossness and lose respect in the eyes of others. But unfortunately this is something that is the norm and not an exception.

There are even restrictions on women from venturing out of their college campus after 6 in the evening while there are none for men. There was even a case of a professor from an elite institution in our country saying thus- ‘Female students should be disbarred, they are wasting the nation’s money since they will just sit at home after completing studies.’

And if you are an extrovert and a woman at the same time, India is probably the worst place to be as you would be expected to adhere to norms which are outright stupid like the curfew times which would prolly range from 5 in the evening to a very “liberal” 8 PM and this is directly proportional to how crazy the city or village in which they are, is. Not to mention the fact that a women is supposed to be obedient, subservient, should not raise her voice and has to sit chup-chap even if her husband is abusive.
Please read this article about the plight of a girl who dared to travel in a general coach of a train in the Delhi Metro.
http://chandni.wordpress.com/2012/07/01/i-have-never-felt-this-alone/

You got to watch the below video as well, a superbly documented video of how our women are viewed by the men of our country. (Don’t get me wrong if you see women in several stages of undress at the beginning of this video, watch the full video to see what exactly the women of our  country undergo.)

Allow women to do what they want to do! You, me or anybody has no right to interfere in somebody else’s personal choices. It is my personal opinion and a feeling that I strongly subscribe to that rapists, molesters,etc should be castrated! Just bloody cut it off! Or maybe they could be subjected to penectomy, thanks to the Malayalam movie 22 Female Kottayam. I do not feel it is a progressive idea, but then, these perpetrators deserve something bad. Very bad.

I do not know if this will ever change. But I am hoping against hope that it will change for the better.

DIET-Getting Fit-Looking HOT: On that journey! Amen to that thought!

Ok, my first post on how I had reduced 11 kgs in two months and the journey that it was along with an ending that said the next two months look bloody exciting! Well, it was exciting, but did I lose any more weight than I already did. Well, not much!

(For those of you lucky enough not to have pored over that article, please do read it here: http://mathewmaniyamkott.wordpress.com/2012/12/11/my-diet-a-path-strewn-with-430-morning-jogsok-i-just-walk-only-saying-no-to-ice-creams-greasy-tasty-vadais-listening-to-the-shit-some-people-actually-say/ )

Did I work hard? Yes and No! Did I follow a strict diet? Yes and No! But boy, did I learn a lot of stuff on reducing weight and body and all and the mighty importance of that intriguing virtue called patience!

Acting on the advice given by lotsa people, I hit a gym near my place in Chennai. Before I paid up, I took a look around the gym and asked him point blank-”You know why I am here?” without flinching his eyes-”Yes I know.” There was never any need to tell him my motive. It was obvious.

The next day I pop in at 5.20 am and I find that the shutters are down. Dejected, I wait for sometime and was aimlessly looking at some of the pics of bodybuilders, with humongous biceps, thighs, arms, chest and it looked repulsive to me. Too big! The crowd started trickling in and most of them looked fit, very fit, not the bulked up bodies, they were still repulsive in my eyes but some of the men there looked ridiculously hot, perfectly sculpted body parts, their tees looked as if it were its destiny to be draped on that body. I decided I wanted to look like them but I knew I had to work my ass off for that. But I told myself “Laters baby, now you look like a pig. A chiseled body can be thought about later”.

Well, apart from the gym body type people, there were also pigeon chested thin guys and the fat ones with man boobs and curves which were wrongly placed at all parts of the body. I should say I belonged to the latter group. Seriously!

Now the biggest frustration with going to a gym is that in your initial days, you are intimidated by most of the people there. So I knew I had to employ my ability to make friends with people easily, here. What is the easiest way to do that? A simple smile! Its the first day and I start smiling at everyone who meets my eye. Some smile back, some don’t, and some stare at me menacingly. So now I know who are the friendly souls here with who I can take a shot at asking a lot of questions on looking good and workouts and stuff, most of them downright dumb questions. I am curiouser than the cat when it comes to stuff that I love and this was something that I was beginning or acting to be passionate about.

On the first day, my master wanted to check how fit I was and thought he could gauge it by making me walk, speed walk and jog on the treadmill. A few minutes on the treadmill, he realizes I am not very fit( This is something I knew all the way!). Within a few days, I realize that I need real help as my gym master sometimes sits and watches movies in the TV at the gym. Well, am guilty too of doing the same,  sat through half of the tamil movie Pizza along with him. If you have not seen it yet, let me tell you, it is a good watch.

My smile worked! there is this gentleman here who is well built, looks strikingly handsome and most importantly, is ready to help me out. And I am ever grateful to him!

So a few days into the gym, I am again into reading up stuff on nutrition, eating good food, etc. The urge to eat reduced, but then, without my knowing because of the frustration of being alone in a place that I don’t really like even after a year, I started resorting to binge eating, when I say binge eating, it is not the binging which ‘normal’ people adhere to. When I want to eat, I can sit for an hour stuffing delectable food into my mouth with the same vigor and exuberance of a Joey Tribbiani or Obelix of the roman city, Gaul, will. Like an elephant on a rampage, but normalcy prevails after that and I vow to ‘binge’ normally for the cheat day!

Visualization for the kind of figure that you want is the biggest motivator. There was this one day when I thought I could employ my visualization skills to benefit me. I am on the treadmill and my ears are being subjected to some superb music and I am all pumped up and start visualizing a scene from the movie Zindagi Na Milegi Dobaara. I imagine that I am Farhan Akthar, of course with the same body as his, is not that why I was running on the treadmill then? The scene where Farhan says “Mera naam Imran hai. Magar mere dost mujhey Majnu bhulathey hain” to Katrina Kaif.  I close my eyes and am running even more furiously now thinking that I am mouthing the same lines to some random woman I just met and within seconds I am thrown out of the treadmill. Whoosh! I did not know whether I had passed out or was it because I had closed my eyes. Was deeply embarrassed, got out of that place and treated myself to some much needed water.

My other visualization is one of my favorite ones, I am somebody who tries to avoid unsavory and violent situations as much as possible. I will scoot and run for my life if I feel that the people near me are gonna exchange blows over some reason, maybe it was because I was fat and did not have the courage enough to step in for somebody as I was afraid I would be taunted for being fat. But my visualization here is a classic that removes that demon as well. I am walking in the beach with some of my female friends and there are some buggers who make lewd comments at my friends. I step in here like a hero and grab one of the fellows with the collar and levitate him with my arm strength. The guy sees death in his face! I tell him with a voice as husky as you could possibly imagine( just for the terror effect you see ) -”Say sorry to the girls” The fellow’s friends beg me to drop him. And after their apologies, I let them go with a warning . Now I walk back to my friends all Salman Khan ishtyle with a straight back and chest popping out and turn into a dance for the song udd udd Dabangg Dabanng.  Wow! I am all muscular and strong you see! I have run this over in my mind like a million times.

More things on my mind and lesser time on hand. So this post warrants another part as well.

TO BE CONTINUED FELLOWS.

Great day!

Roommate rantings!

“This is an account of how I survived one month sharing the same room with a guy who gave me one of the hardest times of my life”

I am writing this, thanks to an article I read in the Entrepreneur magazine today about a fellow who started a business out of an idea which germinated due to terrible experiences with his dorm mates. This guy has had a horrible relationship with his almost neurotic roommate who heckled him with his antics. This fellow ended up creating an app called RoommateFit which has a similar algorithm to the dating sites which are aplenty. My first brush with a dating site was when I registered for a website called StepOut( an Indian website) which provided an excellent user interface and just like Facebook, it had promised me that I could chat for free. We love everything free, don’t we? But it was a little weird that most of the notifications that I received were from guys who showed interest. If there were 6 girls who liked me, there would be 4 boys as well and in this case, this math did not bode well with my interests. Never started chatting with anybody as it was not free as promised People do all crap when they do not have better things to do.

Now back to the roommate thing. I have had the privilege of sharing rooms with few of my good friends for almost 6 months before I had to squeeze in for a month with this bawdy rascal. Just one month! He has given me memories which I will try to expunge for the rest of my roommate life and pray that I never have to share a room with a douchebag like him again.

I remember that it was a beautifully sunny day when I stepped first into that room which I had to share with this fellow and one more chap. I have the habit of keeping a personal diary and I remember writing this at the end of my first day-” My new roommate is a very nice guy. It will possibly be a nice time with this guy. And wowww, he has promised to help me reduce weight. He looks like a gym freak. Hoping to have a good time here”.  

10 days into my stay, the words with which I started describing him were a dramatic turnaround just like the sacrifice drama by Sonia Gandhi by saying no to the PM job in the 2004 Lok Sabha elections. A more  equal comparison would be the brilliantly monikered “Kalaignar”, yes, you are right, Karunanidhi it is. Not many politicians would have backtracked on a decision or an opinion or a threat, as much as he did.

As if things were not all that bad in my room, my condition in my new company was absolutely pathetic as well. I borrow lines from my favorite sitcom, F.R.I.E.N.D.S, to say about my predicament, where one of the protagonist, Rachel Greene( brilliantly portrayed by Jennifer Aniston), says the following lines to describe her life-” I thought I was going through a bad time. But now, there is rock bottom and a bunch of crap below that and then me!”.

The hero of this post, not me, my blessed roommate, had no job, no idea what to do with his life, had no manners, in short, this punk was somebody of  an obnoxious and undignified bearing. And as days progressed, my diary had the choicest of words for him and I would write it LOOKING AT HIM!

This guy had a girlfriend and he would abuse her late into the night on phone calls which lasted for hours. Some of the words used were so rare that even the gangs whose vocab necessary includes all the Fs, Bs, would have had a coffee session to talk over it and add it to their ever increasing repertoire. My living in Pondy and Chennai for 23 years also had no effect on me comprehending any of the words. My mom asks me to pray before I sleep. And yes, I do pray, but my prayer and his love talk entwine and effects a hilarious script for a prayer. “Holy Mary….what the hell do you think of yourself…pray for us..Rot in hell…now and at the hour of our death..#^#^#&^#%^^&(I don’t have the guts or gumption to type them out here).” Now I know why some of those prayers never really worked in the first place.

He had the uncanny ability to sleep all day with no worries. One day, I switched on the lights at 8 in the morning and this guy gets up shouting at me saying that in this room nobody puts on the light so early. It was 8 am! People in their death beds would want to get up earlier. 

Aaaha, did I tell you about the time he drinks with an inimitable style which no one would possibly copy. Let me put it across as simple as possible. He gets the alcohol along with cheap plastic glasses and a bottle of soda. After pouring the alcohol by adding precise amounts of soda to it, he guzzles it and smells the hair of the other guy present. You read it correctly! He smells the hair of the other guy. Not as much as smell as inhale. You would understand it better if you have ever used a Vicks inhaler. Sickening, isn’t it? I lived with this guy for a month. And that bloody month had 31 days, that’s an extra day compared to the normal sized months.

All of these things are duly noted down in my diary. There were also rants about his girlfriend from me. I thought to myself whether this girl did not even have an iota of self respect and listens to him daily. And this goes into my diary as well. It was my birthday and an anna in the nearby room called me to his room and broke a horrible horrible news to me. “He read your diary yesterday and you have written bad things about him. He is cross with you.”. This sounded like a death knell to me! How would he react. He returned to room yesterday with bruises after an altercation with some auto-rickshaw wallahs. Would he even think twice before hitting me? NO was the simple answer to that question. It would be like a David Goliath scenario and I was David without a sling to boast of . I would be battered and butchered mercilessly! Talk about a HAPPY birthday!

But thankfully he had a fight with a bus conductor that day and the  hostel owner came to know about it. He was getting a earful from him and I sheepishly smiled at him. 2 days from then, God blessed me with a vacant room in the same hostel. Shifted there with happiness. I avoided going anywhere near that room like how a Ratan Tata would dread to go back to West Bengal with a plan for a plant. That bad!

It would be about six years till I get a permanent roommate, you know what I mean. So have to stick with this roommate thingy for that long! All I hope is that the roommate finding app becomes famous in India and people like me would never have to endure rascals like him ever. And as I’m writing this, I’m checking in the Android market to download that app. God save me!

How my eggs broke and why I should have made an omlette instead

I was in 6th standard. I was never a maven even in any of the basics of science. If you had asked me back then what an atom was, I would draw a blank! Well, if the same question was posed to me now, I would still have the same moronic expression, but at my age, nobody is ever going to ask me such a question as I’m expected to know better things!

I knew when I was young that my bread and butter would never come from engaging in any of the domains in Science. But I had a reason to be happy when my school announced that we will be having our Annual Science Day! No, my excitement on hearing this news was not for the greater benefit of science or to prove a point on my science skills which I told you, I was a complete dud in. Improving my science skills was never in my agenda at all.

My reasons for the excitement were as follows:

1. I get a certificate. Ok, now tell me, almost all of you reading this would have had an orgasmic expression on your face when you learned that just participating in an event would fetch you a certificate. It was not a deterrent to you even if the event was a “lemon-and-spoon” race thinking that an extra certificate would give you brownie points when you are up for an interview at Google. Lame!

2. I could bunk classes on the pretext of talking to my science teacher or sending a “Thank you” email to Stephen Hawking for helping me out on my experiment. I was immune to probing questions on my absence in classes for long periods of time because of this and I would have surely loved the freedom!

3. My parents would be happy and I would be allowed to sleep extra hours in the morning or not worry about my books lying on the couch or clothes in a disarray spread out in different places in my home as they would handle these trivial jobs as it would be assumed that I would have been busy in a science project!

With all these things considered seriously, I promptly registered my name to participate in it, oblivious to the “Screw you” look given by my friends. I had no idea what science experiment to do! I hit the Higginbothams book shop where I find the first book for science experiments titled “101 Science Experiments” and purchase it.

Now was the all important task of selecting the experiment. The criteria for an experiment to be selected were plain simple and are as follows:

1. It should be absolutely simple to do. The last thing I wanted to do was to put hours of work for a Science Fair. Watching cricket and idling were time spent well, baaah, not a friggin science fair.

2. It should look absolutely dull. I was not fantasizing people haggling me with doubts over silly science concepts. I wanted my experiment to be more of an eye sore to the viewers rather than something that would provide them new realms of pleasure in the world of science!

3. Everything associated with the experiment had to be minimal. Minimal effort. Minimal arousal of interest in the eye of the visitors. Minimal cost. Minimal time to assemble it. Minimal time to explain to any visitor who would dare to come and see my experiment.

Talk about Dullness!

And I realized I just had to glance through the Contents section to find my kind of a science fair experiment. I find my experiment in a matter of seconds! It was an experiment which involved an egg and a bottle. I immediately thought I could use a Horlicks bottle. Simple! I don’t remember what the experiment was except for the fact that I only needed a bottle and an egg and it was probably the dullest experiment anybody would have thought of! I was ecstatic, or as one of my friend would have said-”Completely thrilled!”

D-Day

I have all the necessary paraphernalia and lay it to rest on a table specially assigned for me to exhibit my “experiment”. I still haven’t taken out my items as I didn’t want people to know yet that mine was one of the dumbest projects and tried to avoid being the butt of jokes by keeping them inside. I wanted it to get over as soon as possible. My mind was on the certificate and I was willing to go through all this with dogged determination.

Did I tell that I had a chart prepared with all the details of my “experiment” explained in it which unfortunately and quite predictably, didn’t pan out well. The alphabets in my chart looked as if it were some font which had horribly horribly gone wrong. A big mess up it was, which I realize only after I make a comparative study with the other experiments on the neighboring tables. Neatly written words along with even more neater looking diagrams adorned charts of my fellow “science lovers”. Mine looked as if a hippie had taken care of the writings and the diagram of the egg inside the bottle. Where on earth would you find an egg which wasn’t oval in shape?! Well, mine was!

Now I was loathing myself for giving my name for this stupid stupid science fair. My friends couldn’t hold their laughter when they saw me coming only with a bag for the science fair. They were even more amused on inspecting my bag when I had just two eggs(an extra egg in case one of them broke!) and a bottle for my experiment in that bag. Humiliation and sniggers followed. I was thinking what I had brought myself onto. I hadn’t prepared much to explain anything to the visitors about my project. I thought they would be so deterred by the look of my project that they will look at the chart above my head and leave me alone to the next attractive project on display. I didn’t even care to know what was the theory behind the experiment.

How my eggs broke!

My mind brimmed with feelings of self-loathing when a classmate says that I was asked to come to the Assembly ground to meet the Physical Education sir. I take my Higginbothams cover and run to the ground along with requesting the guy at my table nearby to save the space for me. He gave me a look which meant he would have shown me the finger if he had time to do so as I saw he was busy arranging his Volcano experiment.  Baah

Only when I reach the ground do I realize that I was being called for punitive measures for not having attended my school Sports Day the previous week! My huge belly and fat bottom were sure shot indicators of my abstinence in any sort of sports related activities. I was already down becasue of  my current predicament and I had no idea whether the PET sir was going to indulge in a verbal diarrhea of cuss words or use his heavy arm to hit me.

I was wading myself through the crowd and I was the first one to be called. I stand in front of him fearing the worst! He took the easy route! SLAP! A slap which would have sounded like this.

PATTTAAAAAR. I fly and fall on the ground with the bag clutched in my hand. Now, that was a huge hand and it had the desired effect on me. I collected myself trying to hold my tears back and ran back to my table for the project and reach just in time when the chief guests had arrived to inspect the exhibits. A teacher there was highly displeased with me for coming late. I showed him the hand marks on my face. I had his sympathies and he asked me to have everything prepared soon.

I dutifully open my cover and to my horror of horrors, I discover that the contents inside the cover has turned into a pulp of squishy squashy gross looking mess!

I had no idea what to do. I thought for a moment that this was a blessing in disguise, I went and told the science teacher something that I will regret for the rest of my life.

“Sir, I am sorry, the devices in my experiment are not working”

It was one of the most embarrassing moments in my life! Oh heck, the device was an egg! and it wasn’t working!

I ran to tell my friends that my experiment wasn’t working and they were sweet enough not to probe on it as they were more pleased to have my company. The day went on and after sometime everybody sitting near me made a face as if they were smelling fart!

“Smell the fart” face

Did I tell you that I had the bloody bag in my hand even now. The eggs had started to smell like shit and it was not a pleasant smell at all. I did not want want my friends to know that I was the one responsible for that smell and I copied their facial expressions and made a “smell the fart” face.

I ran away from them, threw out the mess inside the cover and washed the bottle and went and sat back along with them. And then we were on a tirade of teasing other friends who were with their exhibits. Every single exhibit there looked like the ones that I had earlier ignored in my “101 Science Experiments” book and they looked interesting, hard to make and would have drawn attention, haa, the very reasons I ignored most of them!

For a moment, I thought what could have happened to those eggs if I had not cared about the Science Day! It would have been either a chicken or an omlette on my plate! How I wish I had made an omlette instead! Regret filled my mind then.

And for the whole day I had to tell the same dialogue to everybody I met.

“My experiment’s device did not work properly”.

And when I said that, I made such a sad face that they thought I was terribly disappointed and heartbroken  and left me alone, thankfully. Poor me. I was hoping that nobody would ask me what those devices were and nobody did.

I would have looked something like this when I got the certificate

I did get that coveted certificate at last and I did give the orgasmic reaction I was talking about!

 
Next week in school, we were issued a circular which asked us to register for another event which promised us a certificate. I was the first one to raise my hands to say that I wanted to register.

 Its been many years since that day and I realize now that a certificate is worth nothing unless I know the stuff.

And about the bloody atoms, I still don’t know! I still don’t care!

And I hate Maths as well.

This is for you, my dear friend.

I don’t even know how to start, as writing a blog post for your birthday is a decision that was taken in a jiffy. We have known each other for 14 years, now that is a ridiculously long time for a friendship to have lasted.

Pravin is a common name, but your surname cumar is something that I have never encountered anywhere else. Its always a ‘k’ when it is a kumar! What’s in a name, anyway?

If someone had told me 14 years back that we would be best friends, I would have laughed it off. If we put our various traits on paper, both the good ones and the bad ones, we probably would be polar opposites. There was never any chance of us even being the ‘ordinary’ friends. But then, we can never predict or plan most of the things that happens in our life.

I can’t even begin to tell you how important a place you have in my life right now. Anything happens, good or bad, I make it a point to share it with you. You would always be the first person to know everything that happens to me. If I were to fail in something, inadvertently I would call you and you bloody, you do not even know how to comfort me , but still you are the best for me. If at home, it is dad, among friends, it is you.

But I still cannot bring myself to believe that it has been 14 years and we are still our dapper best when it comes to our friendship. Many have come, many have gone, but dai, you are the best.

We have had a million memories, most of them are our alone time, let it be the pondy beach, sitting in the Jipmer stadium and talking about all the crap in the world, our late night studies. Do you remember that we used to study late into the night for our French exams too?!!!

Long drives in your car listening to some of the insanely stupid songs in your player, talking about getting married, settling in some place, higher studies, talking about all the ahem-ahem things(oh, we always had loads of time for that talk), boy-oh-boy, there are so many things, I am running out of time and most importantly, patience, thinking of all of them gushes in a myriad of emotions that I just wanna come to Pondy now and give you a hug. Bloody Friday work days!

Well, we have had our bad times as well. Very bad ones, when we threw all caution to the wind and thought that problems will be sorted out just like that on a pretty sunday morning when the chicken goes cockarakoo in the morning sounding like an alarm clock, sadly, without the snooze button. It never happened. I do not know whether you realized this or not, we have had to work hard on our friendship. But then, you are worth it and so am I! I am a bloody good friend too .

There are so many inside jokes that we could possibly write a book on that, hell, no one will understand that either! So drop the idea for now. We could sit together for an hour and speak not a single word, this is because we are effing comfortable in each others presence. I bet other people to try that out with your loved ones, you will feel the same with them. Trust me! If you have people like that, never let them go. Never!

You get my jokes like no one else does, even a light shifting of my eye brows or an intentional malapropism from me, I know you will get it. That is what makes us friends. There is no “science” or any hard and fast rules on how a bond called friendship happens. In our case, it had no particular route or events that happened that made it happen all of a sudden. It took 14 long years for me and you to realize that this is a friendship that is worth fighting for the last ounce of our blood.

You are the best and am the best too! My prayer is that we grow old in the same town and still be able to talk all the same crap like we do now.

I had thought of a million more things to write, but I am too eager to ask you to read it. And I bloody know what your moronic reaction would be. “Ok. Thank you”. You still do not know how to show your love. ayyey. Love you anyways. May god bless you more than what he planned to bless you with.

And yea, to add to this post, I terribly terribly miss you.

Loads of love,
Mathew.