Chapter 2: Opal

This blog is second in the Opal series. My position vis-a-vis Opal is yet unclear. I wish to explore it via this series. For unlike dubya I believe the world has many shades of gray. Let me milk till the last drop.

Other than Zahir, Opal blah blah happens to be the only other novel which got better of my mindless determination, irrespecting and uncaring of any issues to see every books end. Zahir heavy boring stuff. Whereas Opal Mehta is in klingion I say and squeaky. I couldn`t comprehend her nor hold myself against those soggy sobbing words.

Before mehta thing happened, I was positive. The smooth sexy me was sure of handling any women. I was so confident that I decided that I would give patient listening to only chicks with long hair and nice boobs (and with patient ear I fantasized that I would fiddle my hand to her bossom,err to her heart). Over confidence sprouting from reading Men are from mars at an young age. I never been in a relationship and if women really turn out to from furs, aka venus l. I am in real need of a horrible reality check.

But sure did Opal Mehta put a hard stinging slap across my face. I was shown the truth. My literary diet, which entirely consisted of pips of Great Expectations and Human Bondagae. Or that Raskolnikov elk and sweet little harry once in a while, was unprepared for anything Mehta served. Really I wonder, women why are you so uncomfortable with your unhappiness. Now let me rant the reasons why I gave up opal around page 40.

1. Opal is sad and hopeless and so were all the above three mentioned characters, I read to enjoy pain no other way around.
2. If somebody asks, who are your best two friends? Ya moron I would be dumbstruck, so would you. Ofcourse I have really good beer guzzling asses for buddies, but I would give them up rather the 20 bucks I lost in a pool game. Infact if any one asks such private questions, that person is surely gay and is fantasying you in bed, avoid him. Break your rumer bone rather than going to any coorg trip with him.
3. You commented on your best friends boobs, what should I comment on, penis. We are proud sons and husbands of bharathi. “hum indira key patti betay hi”. I don’t go to western style lockers and any talk bout your mr.junior talk is strictly illegal.