Gaay ka ghar

I’m dying of laughter here – tears rolling – tummy in convulsions – the works.

The subject of our humour is Lucy-poosi-puchki. Our...who? Gayatri and I. Gayatri began by imitating the way Lucy scratches herself, “Like Bharatnatyam,” it seems. Suddenly Gaay contorts herself with a twist at the waist, and one leg lifted like she’d just had her love kiss, the face looks pretty much like the spitz’s anyway, and then she sticks out her tongue like one too. And then begins the scratch. That cracked me up. You know the silent laughter I laugh, when it becomes impossible for me to laugh any more helplessly?

Then I couldn’t help it so I asked G what Puchki was up to last night, making that strange noise jumping about on the giant pink stuff toy hippo’s stuffed foot. “Masturbating,” said Gayatri matter-of-factly. Imitation Round 2. In the kinky mind, I’m sure it already gives rise to plenty of ideas.

It would be of vital importance to describe Gayatri here.

My landlady is a short, stout Assamese 35-year-old. Well endowed, but not pretty. Neutral features, the Bollywood costume designer knows how to look good in whatever she’s clad – and she knows in what to be clad. A trendy haircut and clear skin, Gayatri is a strict landlady when it comes to tidiness. She is clean, hygienic and extremely minimalist-stylish. And considering the amount of screaming she does at Tania for leaving the house in a mess every so often, she does not come across as someone who would be funny. However, I wouldn’t call her menacing per se.

So I’ve seen Gayatri do the occasional jig of a Freddie impersonation in her high pitched voice, “when you call him to slap him also he comes wagging like-this, like-this (and she’ll do a little butt wiggle) and come as if to say ‘yes yes slap me now!’” Freddie’s a total simpleton. You kind’a come to expect dumbness out’a him. But really he’s just the tolerant man of the house, who takes shit from ALL the bitches in the house and keeps them humoured. And sometimes be the butt of their humour.

But mentioning Lucy’s romp was just the thing to get Gaay started. Since she wanted to avoid having to get out of bed in the middle of the night, and have the act carry on elsewhere, the hippo went into the living room. As Lucy followed close behind, Gayatri went, “Go! Go have fun with your King Kong Hulk boyfriend!”
And as Lucy turned to have a go at her new giant dildo, Gayatri says casually, “her tail is longer than her body.” Lucy the spitz is the strangest little hooch. I didn’t think lapdogs would be so hilarious – not only to look at but also in their mannerisms. She jumps all the time. She jumps when she runs, she jumps when she barks at Fifi, she jumps when she greets, she jumps when she wants a chewy, and of course, she jumps when she’s jerking off. Lucy is one jumpy bitch. If ever there was one.

And then there’s Fifi. Fifi and I have found each other. When I’ve barely opened the gate of our building complex, Fifi is already at the door waiting in anticipation. What of? Frankly, is still a mystery. All I do is play ball with her. But the deep blue doe eyes (a dog with doe eyes, yeah right) are the nicest thing to wake up to each morning and come home to each night. And the ivory ringlets are almost a dog’s-world representation of Belinda’s locks from La Belle Dame Sans Merci.

Sometimes I identify with Fifi. Sucker for a little bit of love. Slave of just the tiniest gesture.

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