That four letter word

Fuck. (No tricks here.)
I miss the word. Really do. I missed hearing it for over two months now, even if I used it only when I had to express extreme emotion. In fact, I can probably count on my fingers the number of times I have uttered it.
Mostly, I miss hearing it from others. Of course, there are substitutes, but nothing comes close to the succinct, pregnant meaning and emotion that the single-syllabled word signifies.
Why don’t people use it as freely in India? Or do they? Perhaps I’ll be hearing it often pretty soon, when people warm up to me, or when things get tough at work.
It’s weird that I miss it, because I’m not one to use it. But I’ve heard it said so many times by friends, colleagues and bosses in the U.S., that it sort of became a part of my “hearing” vocabulary.
The word used to bother me in the beginning, but gradually lost its edge, like a razor used to shave your underarms a zillion times.
Not once have I thought of its literal meaning when I've heard it -- only anger, frustration, overjoy (is that a word?) and surprise. I think it is a homophone, and means two entirely distinct things.
When I was in college doing my journalism, I was shocked at the generous use of obscenities by friends of mine. I had never heard swearing, certainly not by men (forget women) of the middle class. Slowly, I got used to it, then immune to it, and slowly, graduated (or downgraded) to using it myself, but carefully, and within my circle only.
Just today, the passport office got to me. Won’t start my sob story, suffice to say that my first brush with the hyped-up “online registration” system was not all that positive. I felt like shouting the F word at the top of my voice. Might have given me some relief; instead, I swallowed my anger and poured it all out on an auto driver who dared quote an exorbitant price (nothing new about that, only about my pressure cooker situation).
Now that I’m back in India, I find traffic irritating, and usually shout obscenities to rid myself of the stress, but am forever looking over my shoulder to see if the offender (at least in my eyes) is following me with a vengeance.
V. gently prophesies that I’ll probably get beaten up badly one of these days, and I think he may actually be right.
Oh fuck!