Monday, September 29, 2008
Cook, Cleaner and Driver broke into smiles when they discovered Beloved H was out of town- it's slack-off time for all of us. Esp. Cook. Don't blame her- am persuaded that Beloved H was a rabbit in his last life. Eats loads of greens and is very starchy about take aways. Cook has to spend at least an hour and a half slaving over a hot stove for him. For me, it takes 10 mins. max- I'd much rather eat out.
Did a spot of work in the day and wound up at 2 pm coz neck was screaming in pain. Degenerative tissues suck. Then lay down and spent a couple of happy hours reading Decline and Fall of a British Matron (by Mary Mitchell). Marvellous book. Caustic to the extreme and leaves you feeling a wee bit uncomfortable. Was first published in 1937 - those days the Brits could write! These days, um, not really.
Did my vampire thing after I was done with the book-waited for the sun to set before slinking off to the gym. Did a desultory work out, endorphins stubbornly refused to surface. Was obsessing over Pot Pourri's Pizza Funghi with bacon. Sternly kicked lascivious thoughts of 500-calories-a-slice-pizza out of head and went to new steak joint next to Toto's after gym. Glanced at the menu but did not order a thing. Am ashamed to say I could not read a word, point size very small. Okay, so I forgot my glasses. Once again viciously kicked thoughts of pizza out of head. Bought gigantic bar of chocolate from shop near Pot Pourri instead. Kicked wicked thoughts of Thums Up out of head too and started to wend my way home.
Had a temporary black out (alien abduction?) and when I came to, discovered that I was at Pot Pourri. Ordered a take away pizza, since I was there. Then went back to shop and got a bottle of Thums Up. Oh well. Will penitently ask Cook to make karela for me tommorow. Though knowing self, her dog will probably eat it the day after.
Friday, September 26, 2008
I clearly recall Mr. Patil jumping up and down and going purple with outrage over the bar dancers. Compare that to his benign reaction to Raj Thackeray's actions.
Tsk, Mr. Patil, if you really believe that citizens are totally blind, what harm would the bar dancers have done to us, hmm?
Thursday, September 18, 2008
So I wake up this morning with a song in my head from way back: Animal Nitrate by The London Suede. How wierd is that? Haven't heard that song in years and it just pops right into my head. Wasn't too crazy about it either, come to think of it. Oh god Freud- where are you when I need you? This is driving me crazy!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Friday, September 5, 2008
Written in moments of extreme frustration!
Just few days back only we is went to Mr. Makarand sir’s house,
After 8 hours Navratan co-op housing society meeting.
As I am telling to you before,
Mr. Makarand sir is hon’ble building society president.
Boss, he is so chakaas, this year we has made profit that will make Ambani & Sons look like beggerts,
even after paying fees to rat catchers, dog neuterers and ghoos to municipal corporation.
Hence we are unanimouse to get giant Ganpati this year, just fewer inches smaller than Lalbaug cha Raja.
Makarand Sir is in very excellent mood, and is asking gents members to take rum
and different different types chakna to celebrate,
But ladies committee members is getting rasna and puran poli because they are delicates.
We is all having jolly good time and going ha ha hee hee,
When Mr. Baburao is saying, ‘And what you piples is thinking about those nekkid dancing girls at sarvjanik dahi handi contest?’
Then party is becoming like trust vote parliament session-
Only Ms. Lata is doing blushing and whispering ‘hai la’,
Rest all is shouting angrily at sacred Indian culture being defiled by Western indecencies,
Arrey, why those imported girls can’t wear proper clothes, no?
But Mr. Makarand is saying ‘Oi chad yaar, ki pharak paaida’ in loud voice.
We is all shockinged. What if train-chaap party heard? He is not talking native Marathi, no?
I am most worried because Mr. Makarand is like blessed big brother to me
And my missus and myself is suspectful that Mr. Mangesh is party worker-
I swear on you we saw him on TV smiling and throwing stones at taxis few months back.
Silence is falling and we is all looking at our plastic paos Bata chappals.
Nobody is wanting to go against Mr. Makarand because we is all respectful of him.
Mr. Makarand is looking like cat who has eaten stolen surmai fry and saying,
‘You tell to me, which man is not secretly liking to look at nekkid ladies?’
Distraction is caused because Miss Lata is vomiting out her puran poli.
After Mr. Makarand’s missus is cleaning chattai with nimbupani-bena-shakaar look on her face,
We is getting back to discussion.
‘Krishna is bigger flirtatious than Sallu Bhai,’ Mr. Makarand Sir is saying jovially,
‘You is having guts to pass comments on god?’
Miss Lata is now urgently requesting for Patiala rum with rasna
And drinking it like pani-puri pani in one gulp and then asking for more,
Just like shameless girls in chicken little novels.
We is now more shockinged.
What this country is coming to I can’t tell,
Where our morals is gone if even Makarand Sir and Miss Lata are behaving like nonsense piples?