Saturday, January 30

At last, a post.

Five. SixSeven. Eight. 

That, my friends, is how many tries it took to get this line written. Not kidding. And, trust me, you don't want to know the kind of things that kept me from trying to post. But did I get the hint?  Obviously. Will I do anything about it? Of course not.  I write and you read.  That's the deal.  Go jump in a well if you don't like it. Or better? Watch Phir Mile Sur Mera Tumhara

So where did we leave off? *Goes to check* * Shudders* *Returns*  Well, after that, I returned to J.  It's at this point, before I venture further, that I will tell you about my trip from HYD to MAA.  I booked myself on this obscenely expensive Paramount flight which as y'all know is fully business-class. So, I'm thinking that I'm going to be seated alongside dashing-Forbes 500-young-entrepreneurs-of-the century-who-just-came-out-of-a-Raymond's-ad type men. What I got, I'll come to, in a moment.

Meanwhile, I'm checking-in and the lady at the counter says that I may not be allowed my brand-new-digicam in my hand-baggage because it's the Airport Security Awareness Week and so, I, being the really really retarded cow that I am, shove it into the nearest bag. The guy there falls all over my bag trying to load it and then finally puts a snap on it to lock it. 

I board the flight. Get seated next to Mr. Anchappaswammy who had just entered the 13th month of his pregnancy; wore bright orange and also ate half of the measly little sandwich that I was served instead of the four course meal that anyone said I'd get. The gorgeous guy that I imagined?  Sat next to a housewife whose ermm, god given girth and bosom blocked my view and thereby prevented me from stealing a single glance across the aisle. What with their size and all, we are the cattle class? I don't think so.  On second thought or look, in my case, these might qualify as poultry. 

Baah! The raison d'être of this 'animal story', is to tell you that the guy who fell all over my bag? The bloody f*** face flicked it! I can see it in my head now, very slow motion action-replayy and all. Yes, my brand new camera. And, my old memory stick and all the photos in it. In the Airport Awareness Security, no less. His Kārma is so going to screw him over, he has NO idea.

And so, I live. In angst and agony. Licking my wounds in private. Trying to let it go. 

Which is why, in the need to take my mind off it, I've been getting myself into so many kinds of things that I think I could as well have bought myself a new camera with all that money I spent. But hey, in my defence, some people drink when they are depressed. Others shop. I, spend.  

Last week, for instance, was so completely worth it!  Sunday or Monday or just call it what you want, watched Sherlock Holmes, I did. Now I would liked the movie if it was called anything else.  But this one, no. No. No! Didn't do a single thing for me.  The next day, a whole bunch of us went to Eden, this swanky all-vegetarian italian/indian place for dinner and guess what? I spot Krishnamachary Srikanth.  The chairman of the selection committee guy? Yes, that one.  I didn't even talk to the guy but I already know one thing about him - Henceforth, I'm not eating anywhere he eats. Eden sucked. So big. Another bait-and-switch. Seasoned non-resident Chennai people that we are, we didn't even bat an eye-lash.  

And day before? Kiwi Boy and I set off to the beach for some peace and quiet and the beach is lit up with a gazillion lights and had about two gazillion people on it.  A shooting scene in some Tamil flick, I understand. Don't ask me which one. I can't tell between one squiggle and the next wiggle in the language. What to do, tamil terriyada.  Whatever it was made the beach, for a change, seem quite pretty. 

Pretty takes me to yesterday when I finally made it to Dakshin Chitra - the awesome arts & crafts village on the ECR road. Trust me when I say, it's beautiful! Non-psuedo in a very non-aurovillian way and damn picturesque at that. I learnt pottery,  Kolams, basket weaving etc. etc. I'm out of steam. So all I'll say is that I clicked thousands of pictures for the tabloid (some of which I'll soon put up here, so I don't have to write a 1000 words)

I think after yesterday, I'm now fully qualified to be the perfect domestic help or for that matter, the yogya south-indian bahu. Hmmm. Nice choice, don't you think? Soon enough, the placements will start and since no one will ever pay me to write, I might as well decide between these and keep. The former, I'm thinking.  At least, I'll still get paid. 

Oh, oh, oh.  Tell me you guys saw the 22⁰ halo around the moon, last night? Really, kill yourself if you didn't. Okay, so I'm not too sure if it was even visible wherever you were, but out here, oh, it was so awesome. Before we knew what it was, that is. Once we found that it's not once-in-a-life time, we stopped with the UFO/poltergeist/werewolf/moonbow theories; yawned and went to bed. 

And today, boy, did we have some kick-ass visitors or what?  There were people from Sangam House come to deliver a lecture and it was such awesome fun! First, the speakers were cute. Very very cute.  Especially the goras - two Germans, a Korean, an American, a Brazilian and one Danish. The danish guy was a rake, wearing a blue shirt that he kept wanting to take off, he read us stuff that had us applauding for hours. And trust me, in J, that never happens. 

The week is not even over yet. Tomorrow, a bunch of us are going to watch Rann, lunch, an appointment at the salon, landmark and then, the turtle walk from midnight! Followed by an equally taxing Sunday when I'm going reviewing to at least a dozen restaurants.  Moral of the story being that I have to be tucking in now, if I have to be able to do any of those tomorrow.  

Off you go then. Toodles.

No comments:

Post a Comment

What say you?