Alright, it’s official. This blog has magical powers. Godly magical powers. Or someone among the 24 readers of this blog has magical powers. I rant about not being able to laugh-out-loud in this blog and within ten hours, I am suffocating (no exaggeration) because I can’t stop laughing , as are my my kid, my friend L and her daughter, as we sit around the table trying to eat Thai and Chinese food and having the rest of the diners shoot daggers at us for the ruckus we are creating. There wasn’t even any uterus talk involved ! Either the people at Flower Drum spiked all deserts (“kachang”, there I said that again) with alihotsy, illywig wings, Knarl quills and the like, or our pons were infarcted because that is when things got out of control and the four of us made noises that would scare the hyenas away.
Ice Kachang spiked with laughing portion
There was one particular woman across from me, who was dining with a gentleman, perhaps husband. She shot a wistful glance at us every now and then. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second, and I knew exactly what she was thinking. I could not stop laughing long enough to walk up to her, pat her on her shoulder and say, write your yearning in your blog, it will change.
My stomach is bunched , my voice is hoarse, my throat is sore and head, light.
Thank you magical blog. Thank you magical reader. Most of all, thank you L for the laughs you gave me today.
I am taking this week off work. Of course, I do have a little bit of work to do, but I figured that my stress comes more from the time I think about the work than the work itself. So, I am not going to think about the work. Except now, when I am typing this post and thinking about it. I won’t think about it until I actually do it tomorrow. I should stop thinking about it now.
The first day of my busman’s holiday started with a phone call from my maid announcing her absence. But that’s ok. When I was a little girl, there was a lady who lived next door, with a wonderful attitude. Whenever her maid took off, she would say “ah, my house is lucky today, it gets to be cared for by me instead of the maid”. Every time my maid bunks announced or unannounced, I remember my neighbour. That aside, I love hand washing clothes. I don’t have the energy and time to do it every day, but I look forward to leisurely days such as today that I can do it. The chore I hate is washing dishes, because, as I have mentioned innumerable number of times, the kitchen is my least favourite room in the house because it is associated with cooking, my least favourite activity in life. That said, today’s lunch had me sighing in almost orgasmic pleasure. The aloo parathas were melt-in-the-mouth perfect and the green gram daal was exceptionally satiating. Rarely does my cooking reach such levels of perfection. I hope my family does not expect this to become the norm.
I finished Dirk Gently and started Gutenberg Elegies by Sven Birkerts. Gutenberg Elegies is something along the lines of Nicholas Carr’s “The Shallows” but I am being sacrilegious in mentioning both books in the same sentence. G. Elegies is the best written book I have read in a long long time (unlike The Shallows, which, while functional, is very ordinary, bordering banal). While I think Birkerts maybe exaggerating the ill-effects of technology (I am not saying “imagining” – he is right in that the Internet age has indeed corroded the art of reading, but I wonder if that amount of hysteria is necessary), the lilt of his language is mesmerising. I catch myself stopping every so often to admire the use of a particular word or phrase and imagining scenarios where I would use the word/phrase myself. Lovely book.
Delicious lunch done. Blog post done. Now to cuddle up in the couch with more of the Elegies.
Have a good week, folks.
When you’ve had a bowl of delicious, hot, cracked wheat* porridge thingie (Kichidi, in this part of the world) with buttermilk gravy thingie (Kadhi), and you lick the spoon until it shines, the weekend can be considered to have ended well.
The week promises to be insane. Wish me luck.
*Doesn’t the term “cracked wheat” have a delicious crunch in it?
Just returned from a wedding reception. Got to wearing my new saree, designer jewellery, and makeup. A random woman approached me and asked me where I got my jewellery.
Got to eating a feast, ice cream, and paan.
Ran into my parents’ side relatives at the reception hosted by the husband side of the family. So, wasn’t bored and clueless after all.