The world famous compilation containing 30 abjectly GROVELING, SNIVELING, PATHETIC odes to a royal Goddess and holy, dominating FORCE OF NATURE like never before. She truly reminds me of why I was put on this earth, to be LESS than the dust under her feet - or the COCKROACHES SHE CRUNCHES, and crushes, and TOSSES away.
Rarely, if ever, has a woman impacted me this way, even a downtrodden lady I SO enjoy worshipping.
This woman is the smartest, canniest and most cunning ever. She is HOLY, I'd drink her spit all day, and more.
I'd drop down and debase myself ANYDAY for her in public.
I'd wear a dog leash for her. In public.
I'd give my life for her. Well, not to that extent - but you get the drift!
Pooja Madam was the last downtrodden lady, or any, that took me so expertly, and this lady has taken that x 1000.
Read on, and find out what it means to meet, serve and worship your female superiors, the way it is, always was, should be, and always will.
Best,
Mike Watson
Going SUPERLATIVELY WELL on Amazon and my own WEBSITE!
15.Bhagwati, you're my Dadi, Goddess, everything, supreme BEING!
Yes, I know there was a reason I wrote the odes to older ladies, a reason I keep seeing my PATERNAL grandmother, never maternal in my dreams!
She smiles, always benevolent.
Thinking about it, thats Bhagwati Ma'am to a T.
"Dadi bani ghumti hai", my SO says.
She thinks she knows it all!
And more on maids tattling ...
And she does, and she's wise is this lady.
One of the endearing memories of my childhood was my PATERNAL grandmother, and her relaxed in bed - feet splayed apart so dominantly!
She was one of the most dominating women ever.
She ALWAYS helped me - as my own parents never did.
And those feet, I've often wanted to press them!
That doesnt mean my maternal granny was any less "alluring" from that angle.
This explains it all -
The sun shining in through the curtains, and me pressing the old lady’s feet -thats all I could see, her big, bare (BIG!) – broad (BROAD!) feet – the soles, actually!
The rest was covered by a white dress.
The sun’s rays would shine in through the old window, bathing the room in those early morning rays, the crows and all “cawing”outside – and I’d press Granny’s feet repeatedly as she relaxed, the old lady on the bed, me on the dusty floor.
Now, this never actually happened – for once, it’s more fiction than reality – but the Granny part – not fiction!
And I still remember her feet, she used to be sick a lot, so cranky and ill tempered most of the time …
(Unlike a certain Saloni Ma’am I once Wrote about, I dont know why she came to mind too!)
But anyway, last night …
I was pressing Ma’am’s (Granny’s) shoulders!
She was TIRED!
