Aamenu nagnamgaa choosina sanghatana taravaatha aame yeppudu kanipinchinaa aame nagname kanipisthundedi naaku. Paiki yedo maatlaadutoo, aame nagnam me...da nenu nagnam gaa 69 lo padukoni aame notlo naa lauda cheekinchukontoo, naa notlo ki aame pookuni teesukoni naa naalikato aame pookuni dengaalani anukuntunde vaadini. Aataravaatha anukokundaa Manjula anti to sex cheyadaaniki chance dorikindi. Aa chance modalukoni aame nagnaanni pookuni chaalaa yellu enjoy chesaanu. Naa life lo pookuni dengatam. We all have our “regrets”. And we all have our “If only” list. As we get older our regrets take a higher and higher profile. Our “regrets” then outrank the “excuses” and the “If only” list. Regrets begin to creep up on us and take us by surprise. When we least expect it we stumble into a regret. When I stumble I often end up staring at 1984. So let’s start with the “excuses”. What were my excuses? Well I was incredibly young: sixteen to be exact. I was a very horny virgin. I was nervous. It. He had seen something. Out of the corner of his eye. Something unusual.Yes. There. A light, slightly brighter than the others, slightly larger than the others. A light which seemed to be moving.It seemed to be moving towards him.It seemed to be taking on shape.Noise assailed him, a roaring which made his ears hurt. He fell to his knees in supplication.He theorised. The theory became fact.Beings greater than he were angry. They were destroying the night. Could he, he alone, mollify them?Now the. Unexpectedly the flying pillow hit me as you exclaimed that I should take a walk and let a lady shower. Grinning, I headed for the restaurant. You came into the restaurant wearing a loose, flowing white sun dress that left little to the imagination. I tried not to but wound up staring at you, probably with a big dumb grin on my face. Breakfast was almost a replay of the previous evening, fingers touching, eyes undressing each other and great conversation. We did not ”talk” about the night.
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