I sometimes wish there was really a Big Brother. Then I would do all sorts of things just to freak the bejesus outta him. But then, he probably would have seen it all by then so perhaps it would be a bit difficult to surprise him. Challenges challenges.
I wonder why its Big Brother and not Big Sister. Or Big Aunt (oh and the good lord knows that everyone has a BIG aunt) or Big Uncle or Big Chacha or whatever?
Where the English language really mucks up is its inability to have different words for family. Like in Hindi there is chacha, and mama and saala and jiju and bhabhi and tai and tao and maci and all that.
In English there is just uncle and aunt. Really. Thats about it. Oh and cousin.
Must get real boring at funerals and weddings. “Oh and that handsome man is the uncle of the girl….and she is the cousin of George etc etc”
Sometimes this ideas spring into my head and then leave and all that is left is this footprint and my mind feels like a rather inept hunting dog…and so the mind tracks down the footprints and the scent of the idea until it leads to a pond and then my mind goes “wtf dude” and sorta lumbers around.
Scent of an idea.
Hmmm….. I do wonder what ideas would smell like. Oh and then you could actually take a sniff and say “Oh that smells wonderful!”
Oohhhh and if you are ever in Gurgaon, do drop into this tiny Bengali restaurant called Love and Mustard. Its at this shopping complex called Galleria (pronounced Ga-lay-rrrreeea by the autowalla). Yummilicuous.
It did feel a bit strange to have (fairly authentic) bong food in gurgaon of all places but what the hell, stranger things have happened. Have the thali (the “lavish” one), sit back and enjoy the ride.
Luchis and dal and the most heavenly kosho mangsho (I mean seriously, that is what mutton was made for) and rice and saag and that slightly sweet chutney to counter-balance all the spicy food. Luchis and kosho mangsho my friends. LUCHIIS!!!!
Of late, I have these recurring desires to break into my very own version of “Hum kaale hain to kya huan dil waale hain….” Proper Mehmood style. With pelvic thrust and ghaati dance steps.
Do you understand what it means to taste something “hot”? And I don’t mean temperature or spices or anything like that but proper heat. The kind which gets into your skull and your skin and your tongue and fills up your thoughts so that you can feel the blood rushing into your ears?
Nope. I dont think you do. Too bad.
Any day now there will be judicial pronouncement with my name in it. Just mine. Arguing counsel!!!!
Can’t wait. La lalalalalalalalalala