Aashima Talwar. Loves sex.

Remember me.

I’m Aashima Talwar, 23, the bitch who is arguably a floozy, promiscuous as hell. If you know me by my previous adventures/letters then you may think you know who I’m but fuck no, you don’t. Let’s fill the gaping holes. Let’s give it a shot.

I’ve blonde hair (L’Oréal), fair skin (courtesy mummy), 5’7 tall (not bad), perfect rack (yummy) & I’m a true-blue cunt (ouch!). Yet I’ve never slept with anyone’s BF/Husband. I swear on my dead cat. C’mon who would lie on someone dead (unless they’re fictitious?)

I love all girls who aren’t bra-burning feminists, rich-boy-chasing whores & shop ‘sirf & sirf’ branded shit. Boys, oh boys. I love boys from a commodity perspective. As much as my mother will frown upon this I love sex. And unmarried sex is so much better than married sex. Aditya Chopra & married sex: who the hell knows if they’re even real?

Now I’m not sure if this is a recent phenomenon or that’s just how it has always been with desi lads. They’ve become all the things women have been berated for thousands of years. Boys have become shamefully sissy, total cunts, nauseatingly melodramatic, & PMSing tons more than girls. But one thing that men have maintained over millenniums is that women are secondary to them. And here I do not talk about radical Taliban Muslim men. I talk about all men of the Indian sub-continent. Girl, I know you’re offended by such pathetic generalization of all men as your father is an angel. Yes he is: To you he is. Surely not to the junior assistant he’s fucking so she can keep her lousy job.

All you basterds must feel that I’m a man hater & only use them for awesome sex (it ain’t always awesome). Don’t bullshit yourself that you know me. You just aren’t that smart. Oh yes, I forgot to tell I scored 1595 on my SATs. Mark Zuckerberg scored 1590. Somebody just got bitch-slapped…….bam...bam.

There are men so splendid that they blow my mind away. Hint: These men usually speak less, real less. They don’t speak less coz they’re scared to offend. They speak less coz they don’t feel the need to bark their opinion on every single topic on earth. They speak when they really want to & they tell you exactly what’s on their mind. They won’t try to impress you. They’ll come meet you wearing an unironed shirt. Real splendid men let their women do what they feel like {even meet their ex-boyfriends after sunset (haye allah!)}. They tell their women upfront when they get fat & bitchy. They aren’t gorgeous, rich men. They aren’t even articulate like George Clooney. Their rooms are messy & even their toilet seat isn’t in the right place. But their hearts are. They don’t follow religion or parents blindly. They question things & say sorry when they’re wrong. They won’t open doors or pull a chair for you. They will open their hearts to you & pull all strings to ensure you get what you deserve.

These men aren’t fictitious. I know that coz I’ve met them, known them & had the fortune to make friends with them & date some. You’ll ask then why am I still screwing around & not settling in with the real men. Good question. The answer is rather simple: I’m not good enough, they deserve so much better. I see you girls & boys are stunned by my answer. You will ask why on earth I ain’t good enough. I’m gorgeous, smarter than Zuckerberg & level-headed.

I’m gonna tell you why but don’t be scandalized, make faces, contortions & noises that only a person of Indian fraternity can make without being ashamed to death.

I’m not into marriage. I don’t want to marry. I’m not into kids either. And I’m not into parents & definitely not into someone else’s family. There’s plenty girls out there. And almost everyone marries. I like it the way I’m. I love it.

There are things I will never be able to do if I got married. I know that for a fact. I got one life to do what I’ve to. What my heart asks me to.

Does that make me selfish? You all will say: Fuck yeah. You’re right & I’m perfectly ok with it.

Will my mother, my family ever understand: They won’t.

Will my decision break their heart: Absolutely.

How can I be so selfish: That’s who I’m.

Will I stop having unmarried sex as it’s against our social mores: Fuck no. I love sex, idiots. P.S. Sexual morality & god are manmade.

Big Question: What the hell do I have to do that’s bigger & better than a beautiful family & someone to grow old with.

It would be stupid to chalk it all out here all so perfectly. Life isn’t a puppet of ours. It doesn’t follow our instructions to the T. But I’ll give you a rough sketch now that you asked.

Last year I convinced my dad to give me the 40 lakhs that would otherwise have been spent on my modestly lavish punjabi wedding. Boy, it took some convincing.

That’s approx. sixty-seven thousand dollars. If it weren’t for Manmohan Singh’s UPA, it’d have been so much more. No hard feelings, Sardar ji. Tussi toh ji best ho.  

In two weeks I’m headed for California. I’ve heard so much good shit about this place I must eat it till I’m fat as a Sumo wrestler. I’ve procured a 6-month visa & a limited-work permit (20 hours a week). I intend to stay the entire length of my visa. Coz unless you’ve lived somewhere for at least 6 months, you’re just another photo-junkie tourist.

I don’t wanna burn all my wedding money so I’ll work part-time in a grocery store or as a sales bitch at Marks & Spencer or as a counter girl at 7-Eleven or KFC or serve drinks at some shady place like Hooters. I told you I’ve a massive rack.

Toward the end of my stay I will show my real cards, real motive. I’ll knock the doors of Red Cross & pledge my life to them. Wherever there is someone in need I will go to feed, teach, heal or tell stories or listen to theirs. No questions, no reservations. I know they’ll pay me bare minimum & I will have to live in ghettos with people with all kinda diseases & mangled lives. But that’s all good coz this is what I really want to do. And I will do it coz I’m one selfish bitch.