Where Time beckons, a short, pudgy cock-eyed bastard with stinky breath and crooked fingers

Speaking in this whispery voice, “Come here child. Come here. Let me see what I have done to you.”

And so you have to edge and shuffle slowly towards Time, stare right into his shifty eyes and hold your breath cause Time stinks like a million rotting skeletons. Eyes half closed and hands trembling and shaking with fear.

I wonder what you would see.

.

Some times, not so often that it becomes a habit, just some times I insert the world around me with magic. But since I am not a trained magician, the magic is weak and does not last too long. So sometimes I can make an entire building speak out and wave to me, for a split second, and wink its windows at me in this super-secretive way. And then there are other times when I spot witches and wizards zooming around on bikes, their robes flaring up in the wind.

Went to India Coffee House on Church Street the other day. They have the most fantastic scrambled eggs on toast in the world. I iz not shittin you. It is light and fluffy and just has this hint of egginess. And its plomped onto this soft, almost-juicy, thick slice of bread. So after your knife slides right through the egg, it hits this piece of bread. And you cut that and top up the bread with the egg and cram it into your mouth. And all the butter that has been lathered onto the bread comes screaming down your throat.

Waah. Whattey dish. I think only T3 on Park Street could come close to this masterpiece.

Chal chaiyya chaiyya chaiyya chaiyya chaiyaa. Chal chayyai chayyai chayyai.

Whattey song. All them people shaking their booty on top of the train. Of course Mallaika had caught me attention much earlier. With her gori tere ishq na na na na. Man, that was a long time ago. That was the time when Hindi music videos were the shizzle. I don’t think any era had so much cheese.

Purani jeans. And then “Johnny johnny joker” and of course “Made in India” and “Boom boom”. That last one is full one double meaning song now that I think about it. And then that other chick, Pari hoon mein.

Mujhe na chooona. Pari hoon mein.

Sang the fat  bastard. Dressed only in a giant diaper and with angel wings stuck to his hairy back.

fkfkfkfkfkfkkfkfkfkfkfkfkfkfkfk.

It has taken me a while to realise this (and even longer to admit it) but a large amount of creativity stems from just meeting people. I don’t know how, and this is quite pissing off actually, but I need to hear new thoughts and ideas to get some of my own. Full cheh moment I think it is.

Went to Ujwal last night. What a place man. Just what a place. Full sexy, cheap, killer food and killer service. That coconut chicken kebab thing is a bit over rated but I would still order it every single time I go there. Served in this thick, chilly-filled gravy with lots and lots of garlic and just this hint of coconut. So when you bite into the chicken, its the chilly and the garlic that greets you first. But then, as you chew, the coconut flavour drops in to say hi.

Lastly, whattey woooman:

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This entry was posted in Addi veno, mera naam johnny hai, picche se bhrastachaar, pointless categories and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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