Yesterday was something freaky.... I happened to be at a place in the city, eating Momos (what else??) and things from a street food place. In comes a gal and orders Pasta Primavera, and I was like, okay, this chic has spunk, to order pasta from a place that's serving Aloo Tikki right on the same Counter.. All my life, I've been a challenged eater of food, trying out new places, trashing or trolloping over them as I reach my faves, and they are the same ones as yours, depending on choice of cuisine, choices made comfortably, as you & me read about the interesting places to be in the City papers.
I stand right next to the Chef(??) as he starts making the pasta, at the same time handling an order for the tikkis, one hand on the karaari tikkis in the boiling oil and the other spatially gliding the spatula in a non-stick pan, bouncing and tossing brocolli, corn, carrot et al. As the tikkis browned, he managed at the same time to take another order of them, and introduce a cellophane packet worth of fusilli, penne and angel hair pasta into the pan.. Voila, the pasta came to life, so did the tikkis. Lesson learnt from this mindless exercise while my mind was full of the tang of the chilli sauce (Slurrp!!), I wouldn't stop myself from eating at street places, anything at all.
Okay, the lesson wasn't worth nothing at all to you, but you are still on. Like me, a trivia freak, poring mindlessly over the labyrinth that my blog is becoming. I know you are here, to read about things that are, or could be. Because you think I have a say, and then you'll have your say too, for all its worth, let's juice this piece of HTML code for everything that you and I have to say.
Today, its my comfort food that I want to talk about. Its a piece of crackling browned omelette with Brown bread, followed by a crisp yellow sunny-side-up egg with Bread (again..) and a pitcher full of choco-flavored milk with Rusks. Once all this is inside me, as it is now, I turn into something else. I breathe deeper, think fuller, expereince eustress, get goosebumps more often, read more and can write for nothing at all.
Last night was a long one, I traversed around the city to meet my gal at a party at a happening nightspot of the city, only to find it choked full of oldies, people trying to be there.. There was this Uncle ji, who wanted to swallow his partner in embrace or something, it was another thing that the DJ was playing Hip Hop and Rock, which necessarily isn't your hug and smooch kinda music, but then, love is blind, and probably deaf and dumb too, as the case that follows will show-
Uncle stepped on my toe thrice, bumped against my gal twice, almost smothered a PYT nearby, and when the gullible me asked him to watch where he's going, he told me to watch my step. ha!
And then my gal, decided to confront him, out comes his cell phone, yelling to his partner, let me call some guys around... yawn... I was as bored by the predictability of this encounter as you are by now. To boot, the guy looked like Ranjeet, the villain from 80's movies.
By the way, what is it with DJ's these days, why do they think that if they've dedicated the place to a particular genre of music, that they then have the right to heave upon us all the crap they think is their idea of music?
Why do I have to listen to songs that make me flip the FM switch at a time that I truly, madly deeply want to freak out? Sample this, Salaame Ishq?? In a club at 2 in the night? Dunk Me..
Okay pals and slaves of the written word, here's where it ends today. For the next 2 hours, I'll be out in a sunny park, watching my freinds' 3 year old play, and watch their play of emotions as I let them know that they forgot my Bday (I carry my grudges for 1 week, you see...)
A hug and a bowl of confetti at you. Sunday afternoons Rule!! May I remain smug as I am now..
With a wipe of my chin of the leftover milk (arrgh..) and another wipe off the keyboard of the broken bread crumbs..
B Y E
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