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(Long rant upcoming about my love life....more like failed love life)
DJ yesterday was bullshit up until like the last 15 mins of my time there. The guy was an amazing singer but GODDAMIT PEOPLE ARE HERE TO DANCE ON MERA NAAM MERY HAIN AND SHEILA KI JAWANI, not some roadside mellow english song T_T.
sooo, I was very confident yesterday I looked fabulous for the first time in forever, i had a red lip and fishnets and a pretty short dress(WHICH KEPT RIDING UP OMG I THINK I WAS BUSY PULLING DOWN MY DRESS MORE THAN I WAS DANCING).
So was like *deeeeeeeeeeeeep brethes* i'm gonna ask out a girl today(I had asked her out earlier and she'd said yes for a date but for reasons we couldn't meet up and it kinda just fizzled out after that), so I took her aside when the music wasn't too loud or important, and I basically rambled "My father, ever the wingman, gave me courage, and btw you don't have to answer me or anything, and if you say no this changes nothing we are still best friend and ily platonically<3, but you maybe wanna go on a date on me, ik im asking for the second time haha lmao, oh wait, i forgot to ask, are you even single, you're probably not haha"
And she looked so sympathetic, she was like "The guy who has been standing beside me the entire time is actually my boyfriend, I'm so sorry, I swear this Changes nothing I still luv you bestie mwah"(kissed my cheek).
And qe were hugging like for sure dw bout it, just shooting my shot, if you even break up, call me up jk haha lmao.
Okay, but to be fair, I had a GINORMOUS crush on her in 2023, and then throughout 24, it kind of just died down a little. I still really like her, but she's not occupying my every thought like before. I'm still disappointed, and I would absolutely jump at the opportunity if she's single again, but it's fine. I'm not crying over it; I'm just a little sad.
but BRO
her bf is like a fucking tank, I noticed later that guy was standing and looking us over the entire time, Not in a creepy way he wasn't listening in, and she prob won't tell him but more of, i swear if something happens to my gf i will rip you to shreds kinda guy.
Observations from the Random Access Horny Memories of Ayush Pujari â III
This works as its own self-contained story, but thereâs also Observation I and Observation II in this little series. This one takes place in late November of 2008, which is only very slightly relevant. Featuring a drunk and frustrated Ayush, a sick and drunk Cal, and general gay panic.
He only identifies it as a hitch in retrospect, but itâs an absurdly loud hitch. A gasping breath, the worldâs most dramatic inhale, like heâs doing a cartoonish impression of surprise, like heâs taking in a single breath before he dives to the bottom of the ocean.
Truly fucking theatrical. A one-man show. An exaggerated, frustrated, unabashedly noisy struggle.Â
âHUH! hehâYIZSSH! HYYESSHHâhu!â
Ayush would recognize that sequence of sound anywhere, considering how easily it could be conjured in his mind. Caliph Chowdhuryâs Greatest Overheard Hits, mentally recorded, sounds repeated often enough to carve themselves into at least semi-permanent grooves in Ayushâs brain, played back like a record whenever he wanted.Â
Sometimes when he didnât.
People who werenât even talking to Caliph bless him. It is the kind of sound that steals attention and demands recognition.
So perhaps itâs not strange that it turns Ayushâs head and dislodges his own sentence, even though he isnât within spitting distance. His eyes dart toward the source to find Caliphâs face emerging from where heâd nuzzled into the sleeve of his jacket. Ayush doesnât remember what he was saying afterwards. Doesnât have to, it turns out, when the group heâs talking to exceeds a sustainable number of conversation partners and theyâre all waiting to dive in atop each other anyway, but heâs happy to cede the stage for another opportunity to glance. Voyeuristically stare. Whatever.
Sometimes the recovery from it is sexy in its own right. An exhale rendered visible in flagging shoulders and⌠oh is he going to sneeze again? Ayush is betting on yesâ
âPeople are acting like itâs some huge leap forwardââ
âYouâre such a pessimist, dude.â
âseeing as how heâs yet to put down the arm he used to cover with and is sort of faux-casually resting his hand on the opposite shoulder like it isnât just a way to more easily⌠there you go, Caliph.Â
âURREISSHH!â
Oh youâre not even done, what is so intenselyâ
âHUDâJESSHH!â
thoroughlyâ
ââURREZSSHâyue!â
God, inescapably bothering you?
Ayush tries to disguise whatever it is thatâs happening on his face, makes quick eye contact with the people heâs pretending to listen to for a couple moments and then, that done, proceeds to watch Caliph cough into a fist, and reach into his pocket for what seems like it must be a tissue to bring to his nose, wait holy shit, is he sick? Is Caliph sick?!?
ââwhen really if you look at the make up of the Senateââ
He must be sick. People donât just carry tissues to a party unless they need them. Oh Christ, oh poor Caliph, oh god how he wants⌠to do⌠something, heâ
âWhat do you think, Ayush?â someone asks.
I think the election is over and you should all shut the fuck up about it and please fuck off and donât talk to me right now.
âTotally,â he says, hoping this to be a passable response but honestly not giving too much of a shit either way.Â
Ayush had greeted Caliph and Naveen when theyâd arrived, directed them to where they could set down the beer they came with, but it was over in a flash and any signs of illness must have escaped his notice. He finds himself suddenly despondent about being stuck anywhere besides a dozen paces to the right.
Every time he thinks the conversation is dwindling to a place where it wouldnât be rude to leave, someone needs something or someone who just arrived greets him and heâs forced to exchange how are yous and compliment haircuts and ask people if theyâre still with whoever it was they were with before. Whatâs the same, whatâs different, oh cool oh good for you oh thatâs too bad oh that sounds interesting.Â
There are several times over the course of several similar conversations that Ayush has to stop himself from blurting out something to the tune of Yeah yeah, we all want to drop out of our grad programs. For far too long heâs not even able to get any closer than the same twenty-ish feet away from Caliph, who every ten or so minutes is devolving into another desperate displayâof course he would be one of those rare people who actually sneezes a ton when they have a coldâand Ayush is stuck in a revolving door of dull and repetitive but increasingly spirited conversation as the night comes of age and its suitors grow steadily drunker.
He laughs at a joke and wishes a private curse on whoever just joined the circle talking to Naveen and Caliph and effectively blocking him from Ayushâs view for a particularly emphatic fit of four. He feels like a bratty child throwing a tantrum as he stares longingly at a favorite confiscated toy sitting on the refrigerator, out of reach. Why must he have other friends? Why did they invite so fucking many of them here?
In the alembic of his lust and blood alcohol content he becomes impatient, increasingly desperate, easily annoyed by people he likes, borderline rude to people he doesnât really like, ââtense and agitated by his secret watchfulness and the physical inability to look in two directions at once. He says mildly unhinged things like, of the president-elect, âI do worry about the country running out of bulletproof glass,â and, of a cute picture of someoneâs newborn triplet nieces, âIâm just saying overpopulation is a thing,â and, of law school, âIf I ever change my mind and decide to go, please do me a favor and end my life.â
It is a throbbing ache. It is an itch spreading under his skin. Not once but twice he makes the mistake of answering yes when someone on their way to get another drink asks if he wants one, and thus forgoes a perfect excuse to excuse himself and he has half a mind to fully chug the second bottle heâs handed. A few extensive swigs into it, Ayushâs attention is caught again by a particularly sharp opening note.
âSZIISSHH!!â Rushed and ridiculous, sounding something like the startled bark of a dog in the night. Naveenâs laughter rings out, which may or may not be related.Â
Caliph takes a few steps backwards from the group heâs with, probably for the sake of courtesy, and in his spatial aloneness takes the opportunity to more bodily give himself over to an exclaimed continuation.
âHUZZIISHHâhu! HUHâZYYIISSHHhoo!â
God fucking bless you, Caliph.
Itâs followed by excessive wiping with the sorry excuse for what is probably the same tissue, and when the magnetic force that continues to tug Ayushâs head in that general direction finally results in him and Caliph catching eyes from across the yard he feels his face flush.
Well now he has to go talk to him.
He leaves ungracefully mid-conversation with a disingenuous promise to be right back, and dodges several other friends on the way, more easily brushed off when heâs walking like heâs on a mission. Heâs asked by a group of people he does not know if they can use the kitchen table for beer pong, and though he technically does not live here he says itâs fine by him.Â
âAyooosh!!â Caliph says, fixing him with an excited but slightly unfocused gaze when Ayush reaches him and Naveen by the porch.
Ayush grins to match, reaches a hand to Caliphâs arm. âCan I get you some tissues, bhai? What is that, a sad little wadded up piece of toilet paper?â
Caliph has to laugh for a moment before he speaks. âIt is exactly that. I would be incredibly grateful for tissues.â
Up close the redness about his nose is obvious. Either Ayush missed it before or itâs been worsening throughout the night, which, considering how much heâs been sneezing, seems very possible. The flushing, when combined with his dark skin and warm complexion, has created something like an angry almost-coral, glowing around his nostrils and where the soft, rounded edges of his nose meet his upper lip. The color suits him.Â
When Ayush returns with a tissue box itâs welcomed by a look of undying gratitude that undoes him so entirely he almost trips down the porch stairs.Â
âAhhh bhaiya,â Caliph almost moans, âyouâre too good to me. I came underprepared.â He asks Naveen to hold his beer and proceeds to take a few handfuls of tissues to stuff into his pockets.
He looks like the final frame of a cold medicine commercial, appropriately dosed and relaxed but still clearly ill, a mussed lock of silken black hair that would normally be swept back with a little more promptness spilling lazily over his forehead. When had he begun graying, this twenty-two year old?
âYou can just take the box if you want.â
âOh this should be good I think. Itâs not quite that dire,â he says, still with that beamish smile slightly too big for his face.Â
âYou sure about that?â Ayush asks, because it honestly almost looks likeâ
âYou know what actuallyâŚâ Caliph suddenly shakes his head, tugs another tissue from the proffered box, pants twice in breathy inhale-exhale combos as he brings the tissue to his nose, turns sideways and immediately sneezes into it, a panicked, âhuh-hh, hhH-HH! HYYESHHHhue!â which, thanks to the physics of a quick stream of air and the imperfect seal of his cupped hands, puffs enough of his exhale back into his own face to wind-ruffle his hair.
Since both Naveen and Caliph, once heâs able, are laughing, Ayush joins in weakly, in the pale imitation of a normal human response.
Naveen says, âAmazing timing, bhai.â
âThank you,â Caliph snuffles, taking three more tissues, as the events of the past few seconds clearly warranted reassessment.
It occurs to Ayush just a moment too late that he could have touched him very casually just then, when he was within armâs reach, could have placed a hand on his arm or his shoulder afterward. Perfectly casual. Maybe a little sweet but in a plausibly platonic way. Casual hetero bro affection.
Ayush is finding it impossible to keep his eyes from drifting down to Caliphâs nostrils and the low glimmer of wetness that clings to them, and heâs been staring from afar for so long that itâs a bit of an adjustment to not continue doing so.
He says, âUm. Bummer to be sick over break.â
âWell I have very few responsibilities at the moment so itâs actually a great time to be ill, snhff! comparatively speaking.â
Ayush laughs probably too loudly as he sets the tissue box down nearby.
âWeâve been talking to some of your college friends.â
âOh I like fully hate sixty percent of the people here,â Ayush deadpans immediately and Naveen and Caliph both laugh so hard that itâs almost worth every unbearable moment Ayush endured in order to create such a successful sentence.
âI was actually about to say they seem really cool,â Naveen says at last.
âPfft. Well who have you been talking to?â
âRichie was over here for a while.â
âOh. Okay yeah Richie actually is cool,â he admits, and heâs about to go on when he notices Caliphâs mouth become quietly unlatched and fall open.
âHold on a second,â he says, tilting his face to the night sky like asking a god for help. Like he needs a purer breath. Ayush doesnât know what it is that brings people to do that but he certainly doesnât mind it.
Caliphâs eyebrows zigzag into a furrow as he grabs the collar of his jacket, brings it over his nose and ducks down into it with a sound issued almost in slow motion.Â
âHURRIISSHH! Huh! URRIIZSSHH!hyue!â
He straightens up only long enough to briefly open his eyes before theyâre forced shut again, lurching back into his lapel for another shoulder-shuddering performance of a sneeze that really does need to be seen from the front row to be properly appreciated.Â
âURRRZSSHH-shyiuu!â
An insisted final syllable that itself sounds dizzied.Â
âBless you,â Ayush says, struggling to keep the carnal hunger from it.
ââScuse me, thank you.â Afterwards he swipes away a tear thatâs already made it halfway down his cheek. The sheer force of it always seems to make his eyes water.
Utter ridiculousness. Stupid. Adorable.
âOh my god, I must have sneezed a hundred times today,â he says, snuffling.
Ayush makes a noise by mistake and disguises it with a throat clear.
âProbably more than that, bhai. Youâve sneezed like ten times in the last ten minutes alone,â Naveen says, because apparently Naveen can just say things like this.
âWell this has been a particularly sneezy past ten minutes, it may not be representative of my entire day,â he says. âBut Iâm pretty sure itâs driving my father up a wall, snff! Heâs been turning up the History Channel real loud.â
âOh yeah, how is olâ Rajesh Uncle?â
âHeâs⌠good, I think? Hard to tell.â
Rajesh had always slightly frightened Ayush. He was a perpetually angry person, which Ayush kinda figured was why Caliph didnât seem to have an angry bone in his body. It was like he was deeply familiar with what happens when you indulge in anger and wanted no part in it. Like an alcoholicâs kid who has no interest in ever having a single sip to begin with.Â
Caliphâs sweetness was all Priyanka.
Ayush finds it hard to think about Priyanka Auntie. She is not his to grieve and that makes the grieving easier the same way as it ensures it will never happen. Priyanka Auntieâs non-existence exists in an impossible liminal space. So itâs okay. Pesky for a moment on occasion, if anything, but nothing more.Â
It was seeing Caliph like that, the way he was right after. Before it was buried beneath too many months. Thatâs what Ayush finds difficult to deal with. The thing that chafes. Because he still has to see it sometimes in little glimpses. Still has to be reminded that Caliph is motherless when âHow are your parents?â needs to be amended to âHow is Rajesh uncle?â and worse still when he has to say it like that it feels like less of a routine check in, the words âhow are you doing,â and more a targeted probe with an unspoken, tacked-on, âin the wake of the whole unfathomable tragedy thing?â Like a handholding and a hollow âI know it must be hard,â as if he could do anything, as if anyone could do anything, to make it softer.
Inevitably Ayush is asked about his parents then in return. Inquires about Naveenâs parents (theyâre good too). They ask how Shravya is (fine but dating a humanities major). He asks how Naveenâs brother Vijay is (starting a promising career in data science but arguably spending more time playing FIFA than anything else).Â
Heâs asking the same questions heâs volleyed around all night but suddenly actually caring to hear the answers when he isnât only half present in the conversation, when heâs standing where he wanted to be for the past hour. Though heâs still paying more attention to Caliphâs symptoms than anything else, tongue feeling too big for his mouth for a moment every time Caliph addresses him from over the top of a tissue as he gradually goes through a couple of them, his nose insisting on both of their attention and often receiving it.
They all talk of academic burnout, because with finals coming up itâs certainly the time for it. While Ayush doesnât like to hear that his friends are struggling, itâs kind of comforting to know heâs not the only one of them questioning everything lately, especially considering Caliph and Naveen are two of the most accomplished people he knows and truth be told heâs always felt like the underachiever of the three of them.
Maybe thatâs how it spills from his loosened lips, The Shameful Thing, a topic Ayush hadnât intended on getting into with them tonight.Â
Still he doesnât look at them when he says it, preoccupied with his usual unconscious drunken fidget tactic of peeling at a cold, dewy beer label until his fingertips find purchase on the sticky glue residue beneath. Rubbing at it until itâs reduced to pulp. âI havenât done any of my assignments all semester. I canât bring myself to. Iâm on campus fucking around but Iâm not going to class. Iâm basically just trying to figure out what the fuck I want to do instead of this.â
Itâs quiet for a moment. He looks up to see sympathy.
âHonestly bhaiya, good for you,â Naveen says, tilting the neck of his beer in Ayushâs direction.
âI totally agree,â Caliph says. âIt takes a lot of insight to figure that out, especially when you have parents like oursâsnhff!âwho can kind of unintentionally blind you with pressure.â
âThey might actually murder me when I drop out of this program,â Ayush says, raking idly through his hair. âIâm gonna have to fuckin move back in with them.â
âIâm sure theyâll be glad to have you though.â
âOh theyâll be ecstatic to have me, thatâs not the problem,â he says, and Caliphâs chuckle spawns coughing. Not a wet cough, not yet, just something ticklish and irritated that makes his chest stutter in little spasms, but heâs having trouble wrestling his breath away from it.Â
Naveen pats his back. âYou sound so healthy, bhai.â
Caliph smiles wryly from behind his fist, coughs the words, âI know-ho.â
âBetter to bunk with your parents now than when youâre thirty-five, na?â Naveen says, and Ayush takes an exceptionally long second to turn his thoughts back to the conversation he started and away from how sniffly Caliph is in the wake of the coughing, the way he keeps fussing at his face with a crumpled ball of tissue, quick little upward swipes and pinches of his nostrils.Â
âUm⌠I guess so. Honestly I should just drop now before the last day to withdraw with a âWâ or whatever, but I donât want to move back home now, I wanna stay on campus. Suckle at the tit while my parents brag to their friends about things Iâm not doing for a little bit longer. I think if I told them now theyâd tell me to finish out the semester anyway.â
âFair enough, bhaiya,â Caliph says.
âYou think?â he asks, not meaning for the question to sound so needy.
âYeah absolutely. Give yourself time to get a couple months closer to a new game plan before your parents know.â
âOr a couple months more certain that you definitely donât want to go into law,â Naveen says.
âOh that is definitely not the issue, like Iâd honestly rather die.â
âYeah thatâs how I felt about medicine, snf! I changed my mind and started over too and Iâm really glad I did,â Caliph says.
âBut I mean, you graduated at the same time you would have anyway.â
âSo thatâs⌠factually accurate but I wouldnât hold what I did up as some shining example, snff! As I think you may have noticed I also lost touch with everyone I ever cared about for a couple years.â
Ayush nods, somewhat absently. âSometimes I have this dream that Iâm back in high schoolâthis is so specificâIâm back in high school and Iâm in calculus but I havenât done any of the homework for three weeks and I have one weekend to finish it all.â
âBhaiya oh my god I have the same fucking dream,â Naveen says.Â
âNo you donât,â Ayush grins.
âNot exactly the same but similar nightmares about academic underpreparedness. But you had no idea what the realities of this would look like and now you do and you know it doesnât fit you and thatâs a good thing.â
Ayush nods again, wanting to believe them.
âHey,â Caliph says, prompting his eye contact. âI know it feels like youâre farther away from knowing where youâre going. But knowing that what youâve been doing isnât it? Thatâs you getting way closer.â
A smile comes over Ayush, entirely involuntary. âSo does wisdom come free with these gray hairs or what?âÂ
Caliph laughs. âYeah Iâm earning my stripes.â
âYo, I said some wise things too thank you very much,â Naveen pouts.
Caliph explains on Ayushâs behalf; âYeah but youâre not going prematurely gray.â
They really do make Ayush feel better, and the response is so supportive that he pondersâfrom that sober place that can only be accessed at a certain level of drunkâwhy it is heâs been dragging his feet on coming out to them.
Somehow it was so much easier to tell college friends than it would be to come out to people he had known for so long. The natural implications people sometimes came to. Ayush has to wonder now whether it doesnât have more than a little to do with the fact that âDonât worry I was never into you, dude,â was not⌠universally applicable.
Naveen is saying something when Caliph holds up a finger with an unhurried, âExcuse me a second,â but his nose is not quite so patient, and before he can extract a new tissue from his pocket he canât fight it any longer, a sneeze he directs hastily into a lifted elbow. Usually Caliphâs sound is nothing if not compliant but this one is anything but. Constrained. Consonant-heavy. Clipped in his throat and giving the distinct, guttural impression of being more miserable for it.
âHiiigk-KHâSSHHhuue!â It ends in an almost-sigh of an exhale that seems a direct reaction to the sneeze itself.
He has given up on the tissue and instead wraps the other arm around himself too, like these in particular need to be doubly contained, huddled and straining under the weight of them.
âHUHâRIISSHH! Hh-! HYYIIZSHHâu! Oh my guh-HH-! HUHYYIISSHHzhue! Oh my god, snfffh!â
An overwhelmed Ayush wishes he could offer more than âBless you.â It doesnât feel like acknowledgment enough.
Caliph thanks him and stumbles sideways into Naveen, who appraises him with a worried, âCaliph, baby.â He says baby the way he says it to Barkya. The way Ayushâs own parents say it to him. Beh-beee. âAre you okay?â
âHoo. I gotta stop doing that,â he snuffles.
âDoing what, sneezing?âÂ
He nods, wipes at his eyes and says, âsâmaking me woozy.â
âAwww Caliph, youâre really struggling,â Ayush says, alcohol blooming through his blood, reaching out a hand and briefly squeezing Caliphâs shoulder in a way that feels natural enough for all it sends electricity through him like a tripped wire.Â
Caliph gives him a wholehearted half-smile and says, âI am kind of.âÂ
Itâs barely any words at all; really itâs two and a qualifier to lessen them, but it speaks volumes. Caliphâs drunkenness has segued into sleepiness, evident in languid movements, heavy-lidded eyes, the third heartbreaking yawn in less than a minute. Heâs dressed appropriately for the weather but looks cold even so, arms folded tightly and sleeves clasped in fingers like clothespins so they stay put. Â
You poor sweet thing you should be in bed.
âYou probably shouldnât be outside like this.â
âThatâs what I keep telling him.â
Ayush is about to say, âWe could also talk inside,â but he isnât fast enough.Â
âIâm starting to think I should maybe go home,â Caliph says, with a forceful sniffle and a swallow thatâs even more so.
Later Ayush will wonder if he inadvertently pushed Caliph to leave. It is not the intention, but really he just looks so sweet and pitiful like this that Ayush could never dream of doing anything but encouraging it.
âYeah thatâs probably a good call. Youâre only gonna get drunker and sicker if you stay.â
âSolid points, Ayush, solid points.â
He and Naveen will leave together because Naveen drove. He promises heâs good to drive, he had a single beer and he didnât actually finish it because itâs bitter as hell. Ayush accuses him of having the taste palate of a toddler, and thanks them for coming.
âOh I probably shouldnât hug you since Iâm sick,â Caliph cautions at the last minute.
âI donât give a shit imma hug you.â
âAww!â he laughs, accepting the embrace, running a quick hand up and down Ayushâs back, issuing a sniffle during that brief stretch of time theyâre pressed together closely enough that when Caliphâs chest jumps with the quick intake of breath Ayush can feel the pulse of it in his own chest, like theyâre sharing a heartbeat.
He wants him. Heâs not really sure in what context he means, itâs just a feeling. A Lack Of. Heâs not even sure what he wants to do with him. What he would do if he had him. It is directionless Want, unspecific but no less excruciating for it.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
â Live Streamingâ Interactive Chatâ Private Showsâ HD Quality
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch ⢠No registration required ⢠HD streaming
â Â Salman has now roped in his brother-in-law Aayush Sharma(who made his unsuccessful debut in 2017âs Loveratri produced by Salman) to co-star with Isabelle in the war drama Kwatha. Karan Lalit Bhutani directs this film which is officially not produced by Salman.â But for all practical purposes this is a family film, another attempt by Salman to launch the so-far failed careers of his brother-in-law and Katrinaâs sister,â says a source close to the Kwatha project.