November 04, 2005
À la recherche du temps perdu
remember the leeches in coorg?
here are some from god's own country.
this time there were no tears or anger. ruthlessly, i peeled them off and flicked them into the lilyponds. in a few generations the fish will mutate into god's own pirahnas.
À l'ombre des jeunes filles en fleurs
remember the charming lil uns in the train to pune? this time round, a 4 year old asked me my name and then loudly whispered to her mum "kiti funny naav aahe!" well your boat's kinda weird too, i muttered.
round two went to her too, i had the headphones on, so pretended i couldn't hear the comments about about me. but the ears turned deep pink.
she finished her dinner before the railways gave me mine and did a little victory dance, cos she was first and i was last. that was when i opened my orange pudding and slowly spooned it in. *she* hadn't had any pudding. and here i was, toying with a whole bowlfull of orange glutinous stuff under her very nose.
the battle ended right there. she tottered away and i slept in peace.
i grow more like mr bean every day.
apocalpsye now: redux
i love the smell of barood in the mornings.
spent diwali night as a conscientous objector. wouldn't stop anyone from bursting crackers, but wouldn't join in either. dodged rockets, helicopters, snakes, atom bums, anars, chakras and chaklis.
Du Côté de chez Swann
actually, make that schezwan. hold the garlic, garçon!