Where the moments are captured in little tiny bottles of glass

Well. They could be for all you know.

Went and saw Puss in Boots the other day. These dumb cinema fuckers actually make you pay for the 3-D glasses AND also want a fuckin refundable deposit. I mean this requires some serious planning and deep thought. They really, really wanted to make the whole thing as retarded as possible. There was a fukin traffic jam of people at the end of the show cause the chap had to not only collect the glasses but also refund the deposit.

Refund. Like fun returning from a bachelor party.


The movie was quite nice. Inappropriately funny in all the right places me thinks. I think I will go watch it again sometime.

Also attended two weddings in the last four days. I think the best part was the “south indian” lunch where you sit on a loooong table and there is a banana leaf in front of you. And you sprinkle some water on the leaf and then clean it nicely and then those mundu wearing chaps just keep piling hot, hot, hot steaming rice on your leaf and then there is this palya and that curry and kosambari and all crunchy and yummy things. And you just belt it all down, pausing at the very end (just before you take your second helping of paisam) to run your hand over your tummy and look all happy and content.

This one chap kept piling laddoos all over me plate and I was just so happy belting them down that he too got happy and it just went on and on. It was like a symbiotic relationship or something. I like people who enjoy feeding me.

Anyway, at one of the weddings there was a grand plan to invade the couple’s wedding-night room. The idea was to camp in the room and delay the humpity-humpity for as long as possible.


First of all the room reeked of sex. Like REEKED. There was a frikkin bouquet on the frikkin bed man! Plus the bathroom had this translucent wall where the shower-taker could be seen and all that crap. Super-awkward.

So we all just mumbled and humbled out of the room, leaving the newly marrieds to find maternal bliss. Not like they had not found it earlier but still.

I also realised that I very often forget where I am and then proceed to act in a terribly incorrect manner. At the lunch for example, I gave the one-finger salute (accompanied with verbal encouragements) so often that this old gentleman sitting opposite me almost had a heart-attack.

South indian weddings can be a tad boring. That long pipe instrument goes paaaah peaaah paeeaaah and then some stuff happens on the stage and there is a lot of smoke and fire and  you just sorta sit on the plastic chairs and check out the laaadies.

And then there is that bloody camera fellow with the hot, bright lights focusing on you just as you have a spaz moment and/or burp after lunch. Its a bit annoying but I suppose no wedding is complete without. The camera fellow is closely followed by the light/flash fellow who also doubles up as the extension cord/wire holding fellow.

Oh well. Marriages are a lot like budday parties I suppose. Mad, sugar-high kids running about, old aunties going “puchh pucchh” about the “yenger” generation and hormonal-ly charged teenagers eyeing each other through the corners of their eyes.


I went to this lovely little place called Udipi Krishna Bhavan in the Chikpet area the other day. Serves some of the most delicious dosas I have ever had. Soft and slightly plump center branching out into thin, crisp heaven. Dunked in freshly made chutney. Oooh yummy.

Also nicely belted some delicious chicken biryani (double masala) and chilly chicken which made the tears run out of the nose. Seriously. Oh good lord. You know, I think they make little holes in the chicken pieces so that the marinade permeates through the entire chunk of flesh. So even if you take a bite of the fleshy interior, you get a mouthful of green chillies and peppers and OH MY GOOD LORD MAN.

I have noticed that ma homies in bengaluru (looorooo, looo roo, benga looo roo) tend to ignore conjunctions altogether. A massive amount of importance is given to the pronoun; in fact, a lot of sentences rest their weight entirely on the poor pronoun itself.

Like “What you did?” or “Where you went?” or “He gone”, “Where it is?” and the like.

I fully like it.



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4 Responses to Where the moments are captured in little tiny bottles of glass

  1. Nice take on the wedding thing. I can barely remember mine. It was a mish mash of Maratha and Rajput traditions and neither was followed well. I think my in laws took a li’l break to go and sulk in a room. I was also gesturing madly to the crowd from the stage, while my husband sat solemnly with his head bowed and tried to decipher what the pundit was saying. I ‘fully’ liked it.

  2. Aayam says:

    Maternal bliss?? Dude, seems like the Delhi courts are progressively causing the deterioration of your angrezi skills! 🙂

    Am not even going into Oedipus complex, Freud, et al …

    • kroswami says:

      @L&F: Maratha Rajput…hmmmm. For some reason I keep thinking that the OST for Tipu Sultan’s serial would have played in the background before any ceremony….pahhh paah paaah.
      The thing about traditions is that no one really knows what is the correct one, so as long as you look like you know what you are doing, its all good.

      @Aayam: gahahahahahahahah. Saala pehla comment and full head shot! But yes, I should see (another) shrink..this one is obviously not working.

  3. sonal says:

    Gross loafer ! ‘Reeked of sex’ sounds like someone had already used the room before you got there

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