Archive for authorSrini

Distracted as ever - by life and its vibrant hues, Srini discovered writing recently when a bushy eye-browed Muse with luscious lips tickled his senses with her couplets. Fat man grew up to be a fitness conscious cook, a gardener by grandma's inherited green thumb and an Agnostic who used to believe in myriad rituals and gods and goddesses of the Southern landscapes, landscapes where rice paddies and Gopurams made people believe in the gifts of music, culture, art and nature's miracles. With a face that's expressive enough to throw off a couple of stubborn people off their stools, and an arse that can dance to drum and base, he's constantly trying to bridge his semi-German thoughts with his roots back in the Land of the Peppers. He writes, occasionally.

Salvation Star Turns 4

Salvation Star turns 4 and it will be an night to remember! Surprises galore for everyone with DJ Bunty from the famed China House Club of Bombay playing his foot stomping music.

Beyond The Blub

Don’t look at my moobs (man boobs = moobs you dummies). Don’t look at my hairy nipples, do you stare at Harry Potter’s nipples in the movie, the way you …

Bombay Dost Turns 20 : Special Edition on Sale !

The 20th anniversary issue of Bombay Dost – India’s first gay magazine – features Imran Khan on the cover. In a candid interview, Imran talks about the success of Delhi Belly, his new films with Katrina and Kareena and why he "locked lips'' with dost Ranbir Kapoor on Karan Johar’s show.

Surf My Couch Or Crotch

Surf my couch, or my crotch?

Leo, Singapore

“You’ve got a big dick”, said Leo as he slurped on my tool, my Salman Khan as he termed it Bollywood Ishtyle. …

Powerless Night

It’s that time of the year and one of those odd days, when a waxing moon’s light is good enough to awaken a city drenched in darkness with its cool, …

Basic Rights

I’ve got the basic right to pee

Not on the wall

The basic right to shag

Not the neighbor’s child

I’ve got the basic right

To live, not to kill…

What A Confused Mind…

‘Finding home’ determines the focus of the discussions, eliciting arguments, agreements and applause. An occasional journalist-cum-god-knows-who seeks sensational views about the community’s active involvement in the nation’s activities, its own legal and social battles and maybe some Masala for his write-up in some column. The crowd raised eyebrows, answered some queries, ignored some, and moved on.

Sita Eliya

Dark as jaggery were his shoulders, luscious were the lips and the dark curls that adorned his sun-kissed face; those arms could tear apart banana stems, wield bows and arrows …

Annals Of The Old (Part 3) : Maari

Amma and Daddy were never at home on Saturdays. If anybody was, then it was the one who kept the house clean – vessels, clothes, fans, window-sills, sinks, bath, toilets, …

Annals Of Old (Part 1) : Doraisamy

Rickshaw service to and fro the schools with a bunch of uniformed children was his only occupation. A skin tone closer to Amma’s ‘Pulikkachal’, oil dripping across the sweaty skin, …

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