#$@%$**!

When you can’t stop cussing…πŸ˜‚

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Profanity was never taught to me at home. My parents are kind people and despite that my mother gets ticked off quite easily, she doesn’t actually delve deeper than comparing her victim with a petty animal. 

“You’re a goddamn buffalo. She’s a goddamn  bitch. My neighbours are goddamn fleas. This mosquito is a goddamn dog. “She’d use such language and that would be a cue for us to be careful for the next few hours, and also to cook our food ourselves. 

Everybody learns motherfucker at school. That, and several other words and phrases that relate various parts of body to various relatives of a person. I remember how innocent I was in std. 4. I believed girls had penises. Then, one day, my friend told me what fuck meant. I have no idea where he learnt that from, but he kept saying fuck for quite a long time. It sounded funnny. Next year, he taught me a few more words. By the time we passed X, we were eligible to sit an All India Profanity Exam, and I was sure I’d have gotten a decent rank. 

Even though we cursed each other for fun, and slowly, it became an indispensable part of our sentence construction, we never spat the most extreme words for each other. I mean there was a mutual respect for everyone’s mother and sister. We were happy calling each other dick and cunt and asshole. 

But then, be**nch*d Delhi happened. People here are more open minded I guess, because they never get tired of mentioning their friends’ mothers’ cunts or their friends’ fathers’ dicks. And somebody’s sister gets fucked at the end of every sentence. Cuss words are used as punctuation marks in Delhi. And it’s used everywhere and all the time. I have a giant sized friend who can’t help cussing. Yesterday while playing chess, he cussed at the rate of 12 words a minute. As I moved my queen to a safe spot, the room plunged into darkness. It was a power cut.


“Be**ch*d. It’s a power cut. Dick. What a dick Kejriwal is! What a dick Modi is! Be**ch*d. ”

I heard him patiently, relieved that he didn’t call me a dick. We waited for a while till he made a rap song entirely composed of the word Be**ch*d. And then, when my ears had bled enough, the room lit up with a fluorescent white. 

“Be**ch*d. Holy cunt of a mother! “He said. 

Rohit, his roommate, is sick of his profanity. He had been humbly requesting him to give up on dirty words for a few months, but all his requests were met with only more intense and verbose curses. 

“Be**ch*d. I do want to stop this. But it’s fucking automatic. Like I don’t have, dick, control over it. Be**ch*d. ”

Rohit gave him a tongue cleaner, and asked him to clean his tongue every time he spoke filth. He was told to shove the tongue cleaner up his anus. 

My neighbour, the Kota Guy, is quite fond of the word motherfucker. As you already know about his recent debacles at gambling (he is currently at a loss of 500) he maybe got pretty pissed at his rival, who is also a good friend and a classmate. So after they were done choosing their players for the game, the Kota Guy thought of telling our ex neighbours on this WhatsApp group. 

He wrote the message like this –

My players :- XYZ

Motherfucker’s players :- ABC

And sent it. 10 minutes later, he realised he had put it in the wrong group, where it was seen by all his friends, the girls in his class, and the motherfucker, I mean his friend, himself. 

“Shit happened again, Barbossa. “He came running. I thought he lost another gamble, but then he explained how he’d called his own friend a motherfucker and how his friend had seen the message and hadn’t replied yet. 

“I convinced him, “he pointed at his ex-roommate, and said, “to play the role of Motherfucker. I told the motherfucker that it wasn’t he who I called a motherfucker but it’s this motherfucker who managed to chose an entirely similar set of players as the motherfucker. ”

I burst out laughing. I was thinking about the motherfucker, the really intended one, and what he would be thinking of the Kota Guy now, and if he’d be bringing men to beat him up on some isolated street. 

“Even the girls read the message. And nobody said a word. I can’t meet their eyes. Why does all these fucks happen with me? “He said, and looked at his saviour, the ex-roommate. 

“Bro, please play the role of motherfucker for a while. When they come for poker, I’d call you motherfucker, and act angry. ”

“I’d beat your ass up, to bring some reality in my acting. “He hissed. 
I suggested him to stop cursing. Or be careful when sending a message. 

Author: ravish raj

● 17yearoldboy ● capricorn ● artist ● pornaholic ● victim of the great INDIAN EDUCATION SYSTEM ● Googlebhakt ● amateur writer ● confused and devastated ● UNATTRACTIVE ● still a virgin ●

3 thoughts on “#$@%$**!”

  1. I’ve never been comfortable using these words, but this post was so relatable, because of my classmates. It’s really interesting and funny the way some people curse. I mean, how my classmate from Andhra said ‘mother ch***y*, yeah he came up with this! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚
    I feel like writing a post sharing my experiences with profanity after reading thisπŸ˜‚

    Liked by 1 person

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