Thursday, March 29, 2007
Back From The Red
So, I'm back from Calcutta, and thought I must list down my Loot.
- Ransacked my dad's cupboard and fished out two great-fitting coats - in black and grey - and a really nice suit-piece. So, there I am, all ready to get well-dressed! *shucks*
- Also, got Mum to buy me a niiiice blue shirt from Fabindia, a coupla tshirts from Pantaloons, and one from Shoppers Stop.
- And while this cannot be officially be termed as 'looted', I also brought back this cream silk churidar kurta I had stashed at home, and some neat brown formal shoes I can use for the workplace.
Other things I did:
- Visited my old college - St Xaviers.
- Finally did the tour of the Victoria Memorial Hall - I always thought it was a palace, and it actually turns out to be a glorified exhibition hall!
- Rode the Metro again. :)
- Hogged on Bong sweets, Calcutta confectionery, street-side rolls, my fave Honey Chicken at this chhottu Chinese joint and other stuff that has resulted in me gaining 3 kilos over this week.
- Saw Alisha Chinai at close quarters, as my friend did an interview with her.
For ore, gossip, visit the photo-blog.! :)
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Soul Fried
Back home in Bombay, and sometimes I wonder if that phrase I just used is true. 'Back home', I mean. Daresay, it sounds terribly cliched and world-weary of me to say that, but gosh, sometimes I'm really not sure where I feel most at home. Calcutta, Delhi or Bombay. Not Chennai. Never Chennai. Chennai never entered the scheme of things, as far as 'homely' status was concerned. It's always the hot and wet place with the gorgeous fort (St. George).
But here in Bombay, as I'm back after a week-long sojourn in Calcutta, it fees like... home. My little wrought-iron bed here, and then I think of my (not so much bigger) wooden bed in Calcutta, with the bolsters and the mosquito net, and I'm at a loss as to come up with a definitive answer as to which one I love the best. That's what I get for being an unabashed sleepyhead - a bed anywhere feels like heaven. (Anyone's bed, for that matter.... *grin* )
... And I might be hitting Delhi next week on a short work trip. A place whose wide open roads and relatively smaller rentals add soooo much to its charm. No hunting for cramped little apartments, through crowds of teeming people, like it is here in Bombay. And yet, this is where I am, Carter Road and Marine Drive and Lower Parel and all. :)
***
Popped out for lunch today at this brand new restaurant at Fountain - an offspring of Bandra's Soul Fry, we have Soul Fry Casa. Very Goan look and feel inside, and the food is great, even though the service isn't very quick. They still haven't bought covers for the cushions, which are all crinkly under the plastic wrap. :) O, and Mad Bawi says that the solkadi is actually spicy - something that I have never heard of. I had a nice fish caldine, with pav bread, and was quite satisfied.
For once, not a Parsi joint! :)
Friday, March 16, 2007
Retro at the Sports Bar :)
D.I.S.C.O
D.I.S.C.O
D.I.S.C.O
She is disco
She is D delirious
She is I incredible
She is S superficial
She is C complicated
She is O oh, oh, oh
She is D desirable
She is I irresistible
She is S super sexy
She is C such a cute
She is O oh, oh, oh
D.I.S.C.O.
She is disco
She is D disastrous
She is I impossible
She is S super special
She is C crazy, crazy
She is O oh, oh, oh
She is D delightful
She is I incredible
She is S sensational
She is C sweetest candy
She is O oh, oh, oh
D.I.S.C.O
She is disco - Ottawan
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Confide in me?
While in this relationship last year, I often faced the complaint that when I was privy to unpleasant matters (professional insecurities, financial troubles, emotional bewilderment, and the like) I wasn't very good at reacting to them. It was alleged: I was very much the sweep-under-the-carpet type. I tut-tut and say nice things about how things will get better and while I try to understand the problem and am a sympathetic enough listener, I offer very little usable advice. Hmmm... not very nice feedback from someone I planned on spending the rest of my life with.
Later on, when I thought about it, I realized that what the said individual required of me was a strangely morbid acknowledgment of how baaaaddd things really were, summed up in the end with a perky "o, but I'm sure things will get better, so don't worry", which completely belied all the worrying that preceded it. and I found that silly. But learnt to deliver on that score because I was in love, and thought, o, why not!
And then, the other day, my best friend calls up with the blues, and we're working on cheering him up. And I wonder: am I really any good at this thing? I mean, this whole Emotional Florence Nightingale thing - is it simply beyond me?
I mean, I'm this weird combination of a cynic and a mush-pot, a comic and a pokerface. When people tell me how things are bad and I think they have it REAL good, I usually tell them so. I usually tell them that they're giving way too much importance to all this temporary shit, and the really big thing is Themselves. That's your typically egoistic Leo advice. And yes, I do tend to give examples from my experience, if I've been through something like that. We all have phases, I say, and this one is going to pass soon, too.
But does this sound silly? Does this sound excessively simplistic, like I'm trivializing the whole issue? Honestly, even while saying stuff like "Things will get better", I'm acutely aware that it's a terrible cliche and I find it funny. But then, what's the alternative?
On the bright side: my conversation with said best friend seemed to have a positive impact on him, and he sounded much better when we spoke again later in the evening.
Monday, March 12, 2007
Pictures Speak Louder Than...
Saturday, March 10, 2007
Saturdays at work
The Livinghigh Logic: if one must indeed work on Saturdays, then one might as well go laaaaaaaaaaaaate in the day (afternoon) to the office. So in I stroll at 12.45 pm, after grabbing a nice frankie roll at Churchgate station, and I say a 'hello' to my boss. And I explain to him, very nicely, how it's much better if I come in late and stay till late in the afternoon, when everybody has left. That gives me peace and quiet, boss, I argue, and he pipes down.
It also affords me the leisure to listen to great songs on the computer while I blog. Aaa, come on, there's hardly any work on Saturdays anyway - just some silly ego massaging on the phone if dimwit clients require it, and some jotting down plans for next week. I'm a glorified secretary on Saturdays, and I may as well pop some bubblegum now.
:)
Copied some nice songs from a friend over onto my computer here. Old style Phil Collins and John Denver and some Elvis Presley. :)
Friday, March 02, 2007
Super Stomach
Mad Bawi told me the other day, "My god, at the rate you eat, it's a surprise you're not fat!"
Well, personally I think I am fat, but that's not really stopped me so far from hogging it over the others. Come lunchtime every day, I peek over the Bawi's cubicle and ask her what her mum has packed for her - and I usually poach one of the two chicken cutlets, one of the four salami sandwiches, some of the akhuri she has, and so on and so forth. And yes, my waistline has not been the slimmer for all that.
Met a friend today for lunch at Ideal Corner, and I realized that I've ventured into all the famous Parsi restaurants in the area. There's Ideal, which is my staple, then Military Cafe near the Stock Exchange, Piccolo which is also behind the BSE, Cafe New Excelsior right opposite the movie hall of the same name, Brittannia of the famous Berry Pulao at Ballard Estate, and most recently, Jimmy Boy's at Horniman Circle.
That makes me some sort of a surrogate Parsi of some sort, surely! :)
