I was watching “The ugly truth” and trust me truth is ugly. It’s blatant in the face, over the top and leaves one shaking to the core. Despondency and despair come to the fore and white picket fences get uprooted.
Karan thought about all this while nursing a beer, reclining on his Laz-boy and wondering when he had changed to becoming a guinea-pig. All this about doing it, producing the heir, why oh why couldn’t we let gentle Mother Nature take its course…slowly and steady in its rhythm lulling them to the final destination.
He was a yo-yo between his mother and wife oscillating like a pendulum!! Why don’t women understand that they also needed there space and also had emotions. They couldn’t perform just because the temperature was right or some mumbo-jumbo said that taking a potency mixture in milk, yes milk!! ensured ……….SUCCESS.
It was much easier predicting who was going to win the India-Pakistan match (at least one could either win or lose); but with mom and Rhea on his case and the waiting, it was ruining everything. He wondered where all the shanti had gone.
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