Skip to main content

Hairy Dreams : My entry for the Gillette 'Divine is You' Contest

This post is a part of the Gillette Satin Care contest in association with

She was with him in the moonlit shore and the ruffling waves.
Looking into the faces of one another,
they were engrossed in love.

When she drifted her gaze to the sand castles he had made for her,
she felt her happiness brimming and
it outshone in her face through her wide smile.

He gently caressed her cheeks with his masculine hands,
warm and soulful was his touch,
when her arms met his to hold,

"Scrunnnnch" it rubbed on his,
hairy, rough and barely fluff it was,
he took away his hands with an awkward smile.

Hairy hands don't work when in love,
Oh, Gillette! Where are you my love?

You save my day with your smooth blades,
they penetrate through my hairy arms,
make them soft and give them charm!


  1. that was a very beautiful one.

  2. now men are also expected to do this??crazy topic for a competition!!


Post a Comment

Speak your mind

Popular posts from this blog


                                                                    Image: Internet
If you had missed the previous chapters of the story: Click here Chapter 1Chapter 2


It was the fall again, they had gone for a stroll outside the university campus into the beautiful park where snowy trees surrounded the white spread and there were very few passers-by due to the freezing chill.
The two of them hovered around enjoying the beauty carpeted around them. Maureen had already gone down, working her gloved hands into the snowy layers. She started rolling a huge ice ball with a grin on her pink face. Steve looked at her dazed by the tinkle of her eyes and the jingle that her laughter spread in his heart.  The moist wind ruffled her blond hair, some of which fell onto her face like a wave onto the shores.
Steve just stood there with his hands folded, his lips curved into a mesmerizing smile and his eyebrows were arched in sheer amazement of what was happening to him that moment.   He felt…

Being humane

Every dawn dooms with wail

I never opine but in my daze,

For I am human, humane.

Image courtesy: Internet

To write is to dwell

FEBRUARY 15th, 2012

What writing means to me...

As lonely as a cloud, as boring as boredom itself, I was. I grew up as a typical child at school but a very hefty one, I am still the same. I managed to cheer people with my innocence but did not manage to make happy friends to last a lifetime because of my gross physique. I couldn't play as I had no playmates at home and my only hobby was to sit and watch tv.

When I was studying in kindergarten, I used to visit a nearby shop with my dad. My dad was busy shopping for groceries and I engaged myself in observing things around me. The people who had mixed emotions that outshone on their faces, an old man cycling with a lot of strain, probably getting back home, the lady vendor with her dirty saree pinned up to her waist and squatting on the floor, selling vegetables, the autowala bargaining with his potential customer, the green trees which arched high with its countless leaves, the flowers that smile at me on the road side, happy child…