Someone wrote some where that stories are just paintings made with 26 colours. Or something like that but I was struck by the idea behind the observation. So relevant and poignant and all that.
One of the things about this city which makes it endearing (at times) is the fact that you can always bump into all these accents and languages. Walk around and you will almost always hear some regional language or the other. Even in the metro, you can casually eavesdrop a conversation being held in the mumbaiya slang way (par meino to uska bol diya kya) or a bong mom (shit that sounds hilarious) giving little pontu a piece of her mind (aaiiii kee korhce!!) or two mallus doing the head shaking thing while talking to each other (rubber necking attains a whole new meaning in those parts of the world I tells you).
This chap called Chuck Berry sang this song called My Ding a ling. Quite superb I thought.
I think I should sing on stage at least once in my life. Like a proper rocking audience with all the trappings and lights and all that shit. I would totally rock it.
Of course, there are times when I wish that the words would stop munching chips in my brain. You know, that annoying sound which only chips and teeth can produce?
I find it a bit odd that Odiyas have not really made it big in the national psyche. I mean sure they have their dance but that is about it. Not really come across any Odiya actors or any super duper people from that State. Even the politicians from that part of the country seem to be easily subdued. Mild-mannered lot it would seem.
Haven’t heard much about Odiya food either. Never seen it on the menus nor being highlighted in the form of an Odiya Food Festival at some hep hotel somewhere. On Odiya Day or whatever.
I would really like to have a watermelon over my head. Just to see if it actually has a cooling effect or whatever.
And those rambutaamamn things or however they are spelt. Hairy balls.
I think fruits make ideal missiles. Their shape just lends them to being chucked about.
I would stock up on chotta kelas (firmer, easier to store), apples (hard, good trajectory), sugarcane (close combat, nutritious), coconuts (obvious right?) and maybe some oranges (squeeze skin into eye).
Anyone who wishes to raise some sort of technical point concerning the “fruit-ness” of the above mentioned items may kindly do the same after bending over. Right about now.
With the funk so rubber.
Fuck that song entitles on to making up some absolutely fantastic lyrics.
Right about now
Am gonna funk ur motha
Right about now
Skin like leather
Right about now…….right abboooooouuuutttt naaaaaaoooow.
Like I was telling a friend of mine, the only reason why I would want to become Prime Minister is so that I can have a group of wise, dedicated and experience individuals as my Cabinet. They would then offer me some sound advice, based on which I could plan the future.
Right now, I have a Council of Retards. Really. Each one of them is a complete loony. The kind whom, upon reflection, I thinks “I took advice from that moron!!!!”. A Cabinet of the incompetent. A Council of Fools. Gaandus.
I would like to think that the perfect woman is right around the corner, furiously driving the scooter on the side walk, one manicured hand flailing in semi-panic while the other furiously dabbles at the Berry as she desperately tries to check the horoscope, business section and tweet at the same time.
I would also like to think that whiskers are more than just over grown bits of hair.
I would also also like to think that the sound which is produced when jerry pulls off one of tom’s whiskers (“twaaooing”) will always remain in my head.
Tom and Jerry. Those bastards will always make me laugh.
I wonder if you can have a disease which stops you from laughing. Like it does not take away your sense of humour, it merely prevents you from laughing. Fuck. That would be scary. You would always remain that dik with a smirk on his face, standing at the back of the crowd and the partially hidden face in all the photos.
Speaking of which, I got me self a new camera. It is a pocket sized compact. 14 MP with 10x zoom.
I was seriously considering the S2500 from fuji cause I used to have an s1800. Decent quality with just enough controls to teach you the meaning of aperture and white balance but not so many buttons so as to intimidate the crap outta you. Plus it was 7k on the black (err gray?) market.
But the problem with such cameras is their size and then you have to carry a bag just for them and it is just so convenient to have one which fits the pocket (in both ways).
Perhaps when I have some money, I will go in for a Nikon D or even that fuji x100. The x100 looks especially gorgeous and is not too bulky either.
But a 1000$??? frikkin hell man
This fortnight’s Time Out Delhi is filled with the names of all these shops offering some sort of local, rustic artsy things. Pretty cheap and just the kind of stuff you would buy if you had a studio up in Hauz Khas Village or even Green Park or say some new-age construction in Gurgaon. It would be out of place in your mansion in Civil Lines and a definite no-no for the opulent residence in Vasant Kunj.
Might go with the tastefully done up studio in Hauz Khas though. Just might.
I would move but the location is soo bloody central that its perfect. Must. Get. More. Money.
Accommodation is such a great leveller that I often feel like kicking it in the balls and spitting on it’s face.