Monday, November 21, 2005

A very satisfying weekend

In spite of Tits not being in the picture, I got a lot of goodness accomplished.

Firstly, rented 3 movies to watch at homestead. Fever Pitch, Wimbledon, and Alfie. 2 out of 3 were ok. Alfie sucks. Pls avoid. Jude Law, I love you terribly, and in a wildly unladylike manner, but really. Nevermind.

Received Birth Announcement Card from the Febi, with a dreamy picture of little Yasin. Yay.

Saturday: Went with Pinkai to drop Deedan to the airport. She was off to Calcutta to binge with brother-and-other kin.
Aloks and Pinaki followed suit Sunday morning. Returning on Dec 3rd.

Met with Laura Love after ever so long. We decided to catch up over [and after] a movie. Time-and-choice being of the limited edition sorts, we ended up going for a movie known as Garam Masala. Hot Spices, if you please. The horrific title had already given me a sense of Impending Doom, but we went in nevertheless. The only saving grace was that we bought Gandhi Class tickets, so that's not too much money wasted. [Although this again is debatable, because any money spent on that crap is a waste.]
Within the first 15 minutes, we began to dream up imaginative ways of escaping in the dark. It started with little fidgets. The forced laughter we attempted [it was a comedy, and we thought, let us try] tapered out soon enough. Gave way to whimpering.
Brave as dammit, we weathered the maddening assault on all senses up until the Inter val/mission. And then, my, but how we ran! Like Speedy Gonzalves multiplied by 2.

Let me mention that I have sat through pretty atrocious movies in my time. But, this was just taking it to another level. There comes a Tide in the Affairs of man, which taken at the Flood, leads on to Greater Fortunes? Yes, Mr. Wodehouse? Well, we thought that the tide was up, and we swam for it.
The Greater Fortune turned out to be soothing eatery known as The Bread Bar, on Church Street. Frazzled nerve endings were patted into silence by mammoth sandwich I ordered and devoured. Accompanied by chilled pineapple juice which is very good for you. And you, also.

That was Saturday. Ooh, yes, and also received exciting invite [re-invite actually] to head to Boomsa's manney for luncheon on following day.
Could hardly sleep, what with the anticipatory drool that comes before sampling Shout's cooking. Or is it Scream? I forget.

Sunday dawned bright and byootiful, but I was asleep when it did. Reached Boomsa's post-noon. The Boys were preening on rooftop. Somu wanted a tan. Hyder didn't know why he was there, but he was. [He came down later, and oh-my-God, what funs.]

Yeeeaaaaaahhhhhh!!! I met Boomsa FINALLY, and my dil went hmmm-mmmm-mmm. Of course, that's what it does nowadays, don't you know?
Met Poatato!!! Yeeaahhh. So nice. So very amazingly nice it was.
Met Potato's Pink, and didn't know it!! Yeeaaahhh. [*slap* I know, quite pathetic.]
Was truly all gladness. He's a lovely, and together, they are a lovely.
Met Uncle Anand. Yeeaahhhh. He did his Baywatch act and got Hero#1 for 5th year running. There's no matching up to this dude.

Boomsa did some nifty work with baby potatoes, of the botanical, not human, kind. A pinch of this, a dash of that, some magical hand-waving, chanting, spell-weaving, and vee-oh-lah! She had readied the most lip-smacking Potato-Pallya ever.
*resounding applause*

Frunds arrived. My toes did inevitable toe-curling exercise. [I really need to do something about this, it can be awkward for the hosts.] Fortunately, live match b/w Pakistan and England was going on, and I could direct my super concentration that-a-way, and away from lower digits. Inzamam, I love you. Also, Mohd Yousuf nee Youhana.

[Speaking of lower digits, thanks yous, El, thanks yous, I am loving all the sockses.]

THEN.......*drumroll*... LUNCH BEGAN.

Ach Crivens, the spread that was! The aromas, the tastes, the overall effect! The ghee, the love, the magic! Eeks. We all tried our best. No stone was left unturned. We dug deep into our innermost selves to pile in as much, and then some more, of the Foods. When no more was humanly/pigly possible, we had to stop. After all, haha, there was dreamy creamy chocklit cake and ice cream to follow, was there not? There was.

I could go on and on, but I am feeling faint.

In a word, at the end of it all, we had to loosen out belts. [And if possible, discreetly undo our topmost pyjama button.]

I could've and would've stayed at Boomsa's for many more leisurely hours, but, ye Gods, prior commitments had been made. Had to vroom away to pick up Chy and then change into our witch-robes, just in time for the Harry Potter-Goblet show, or so we thought. We were late. Missed the Quidditch Cup, and the Veelas. Hyuk.

The video quality at Symphony sucks. Ptttthhh.
Cedric Diggory is dreamy. I shall watch out for this lad to grow up into something very interesting. Heeeehhahah.

Post movie, we upped and downed Brig Road. Very bad idea on a weekend evening. But this was emergency sich-way-shuns.

Bye-byes to Chy, and headed homewards. Was aching, creaking in various muscular regions. I never knew muscles could creak, but they do. Shows how much you know. Bah.

If I were a sensible person, I would've crashed immediately on return, in accordance with early rising for MY JOB.
But the, I have never yet been accused of sense or sensibility, so what I did was, by mistake started checking the movie channels. And yahoo. I found Monster. The second half of which I had never managed to watch, and lways wanted to, and tadaaa, that's what I did.
Brilliant, Ms Theron, very brilliant.
Butt seriously. [And there's another story behind this] How did she do that? How can a flawless beauty, manage to look and act like Aileen Monster.
I loved it/her/them/all. After suitable weeping at end of flick, finally did the needful and curled up in the dark.

PS: I always get the loveliest sleep after sobbing my heart out for a movie. Is it a universal phenomenomenomenon?

Wednesday, November 16, 2005

The Other Morning

Was having breakfast in our Pork [Pantry at Work].
The fare included Hot Veg Channa Something, along with hot chapatis.
And steaming cups of chai. Nothing to complain about.
Except that the chapatis were slightly overdressed in left-over flour.
Mr Baker had forgotten to do the dusting that morning.
With the end result, that by the time I was done smacking my lips and patting my full stomach, I had white powdery particles all over my clothes, and more obviously, all over my LongBlackVeil [yes, yes, there is a reason I call my blog what I do!]. Mins like to say, I was looking tardy and as though I had just dunked my head in talcum powder.

My kind frund Ruth pointed out to me that I needed to get the muck off me, and I said out loud: Ok, then. I'll just head to the loo and get De-floured.

Umm, really. You try saying it out loud. In a room full of grownups.
That's my story.
This here is a direct Copy-Paste job from Roger Stevens' Blog.
He writes beautifully. Go and see off.

Hey Diddle Diddle

Hey diddle diddle
The cat and the fiddle
The cow jumped over the bed
The little dog laughed
But not for long
Because the cow landed right on his head.

Tuesday, November 15, 2005

Ladies and gentlemen, presenting.........YASIN.

Absolute stunner, Masha'Allah. Based solely on that fact, one might think he may not be Febi's , but it turns out he feeds a hundred times a day, so he's definitely got some of her genes. Much love to you, my Febi. Take good care. *hugs*

Have a look-see.

Monday, November 14, 2005

Looooooooooooooo.....oooonnnng day at work.

PS: Boomsa, pls to excuse ellipses, and their entire kith-kin.

Friday, November 11, 2005

The Weekend- Part 2

Almost into the next weekend, and I have thus far been shamelessly putting off writing the sequel to the gripping post in re of the revelries of last Sunday.

Frankly, I myself am quite bored with the whole deal. I can only assume that you will be even more so, and yay, much to your good fortune, I shall only give a short synopsis of the remainder. [Yahahahahha! You thought you'd ecsape with nothing at all? Well, well, well, just goes to show you who's boss around here!]

So, to conclude. Tits collected safely, we made with the luggage to her apartment. Slept in late the next morning. Woke up and had a long, serious, heart-rending tete-a-tete with Tits about how best to spend the rest of the day. At each turn we drew a blank. Nothing. Absolute flummox deal was happening.

Finally, in the nick of time [meaning before all was lost and we had had lunch], we decided to do the risque thing. Throw caution to the winds. Be all-out Take-That-In-Your-Faces-Haha!

Yes, we decided to rent some movies, laze around in our PJ's [Tits' had sheep on hers, I wore a sedate peach], and in general, try and change the face of the Universe.

So, we got Big Fish, which is beautiful and mad all things nice. That Albert Finney guy is something. Ewan Mcgregor is splendid to watch, and I'm not even close to being his fan. Jessica Lange is lovely. So is daughter-in-law. The son was very bland. Will Bloom I think. Ho hum.

And that was that.

Shortly after the crazy movie finished, I upped and made for my room. Bid teary fare thee well to frund Tits, and spent last happy solo night at my digs.
Slept fitfully in apprehensive state of mind, thinking evil thoughts about impending arrival of roomie on the morrow.

I have concluded my story. Fanmail should be directed to my official cllections site. Only envelopes with Hard Cash and/or Sodexho passes are accepted.

Monday, November 07, 2005

The Weekend- Part 1

Still recovering from long weekend, followed by a well-tried-but-who're-you-trying-to-fool 2 days of work, and then another long weekend.
The grand newses is that Tits [photo alongside- She looks saucy in blue, yes?]
is back!
A rowdy bunch of individuals [being her Ma, Pa, Parsi-Bhai Nousher, and Me] went to collect her from Bangalore Airport, this Sunday morning at 0025hrs. We made a grand success of being a nuisance to all and sundry. (Especially to sundry, whom we took a dislike to from the word Go.)
Before leaving to get her though, we made a Saturday night of it by ourselves.
We played some mad Scrabble and had a shamefully late dinner at 2330 hrs.
Once again, Aloka took the cake and ate it too. With a blush-indusing word like GROPERS, she creamed us at Round 2. Then on, we played just for the sake of playing. 'Twas all a lost cause. She finished up at almost 300, and Nousher and me hadn't even scraped together a respectable 150 each. Sigh. Oh, well, let it never be said that I'm a sore loser. I grinned and bore it. Again.

At 0000hrs P.D. [Post Dinner], we had this mad craving for a round of decadent dessert. Thereupon ensued a lambasting of The City We Live In, for not having any respectable Patisseries [or for that matter any ol' place] open after 2300hrs. Hugely disappointed, fuming and other suchlikes, and with no time to spare to vent further emotions, we left for the Airport. One faint glimmer of Hope seemed to be a Cafe Coffee Day [or Cofay Caffee Day, as Aloka would have it], at the Airport itself...... Suspenseful music ran in the background while we drove to said premises.
And..... Yayyyyy!!! What a joys when we saw it was up and running. Forgetting fastly about impending arrival of Tits, we headed for a feast at ze Cafe. Had something hilarious called Chocolate Funda.
Pls note: The nomenclature was hilarious, but the taste wasn't.
Oh, yes, it was a lovely.
Grabbed a capuccino, and decided we might as well pick up Tits since we there already.
While whiling away time, waiting for her, we passed snide comments at Tom, Dick and Hari. We hooted. We whooped. We giggled unabashedly. We visualised silly situations of Tits taking so much time to come out because she was going to stroll out with a blond, blue-eyed, tall Swiss hunk, and say: Ma, I have something to tell you....
Then we changed the situish around to make it more plausible- that she'd walk out with a tall, blonnde, blue-eyed Swiss bimbette lady, and NOT a hunk. [This thought truly scared me to the bees of my knees].

Anyway, all said and done, out pop Tits, thankfully all alone and without the blonde vamp of my nightmares in tow. Reached home late [or early, depending on whether you're a glass half empty/full sort].

Sampled Swiss chocolates immediately on arrival of home, just to ensure that her baggage hadn't been swapped and goodies switched with fakes. Err, yes.

And that was that.

Also, my right wrist is paining, and I don't want to type anymore.
There is much more to be said for the weekend, but that will have to be tomorrows.
Oh, please, nahiin nahiniiin, don't hold your collective breaths.

Thursday, November 03, 2005

Dear Blog,
Eid Mubarak


This past Saturday was going really well. Met up with Tits for her last-minute shopping. Met Quasimodo after a long time. We were just 3 gals hitting town, shopping out, giggling maniacally, acting seriously juvenile and all such things that go hand-in-hand with the above scenario. Felt elated at the end of the day for all the good shopping we managed. [More elation at the thought that all the heavy bills would be footed by the parent comapny of said Tits. Yay!]
And so we trudged to Chez Tits, with many, many obscene bags of goodies.

And we were still in mid-grin, when we noticed something on the telly.
Familiar sinking feeling in the abdominal area. Familiar slow-mo sitting down, and sudden silence as we quietly watched the ugliness unfold.
Shiny, happy people out to enjoy 2 of the biggest festivals of their worlds. Having fun times just like we were having that day. And then, in a matter of moments, their lives were turned over, messed up.

News stories about incomprehensible things like this always manage to hit me hard. Oftentimes I'll be sobbing while watching documentaries by BBC [who do a very good job of it]. I'll watch the late night news and go to sleep disturbed and , there's no other word for it, sad. So, of course the Delhi blasts left me upset for the entire night. I was full to overflowing with opinions, anger, disappointment and what-have-you.

And then, just like that, I clean forgot. Got on with life, wot.
And I really find that quite disturbing. On a personal level.
I believe I was seething, raging, fuming, yadda-yadda-yadda on Saturday, when I watched the news streaking in across various channels. Ready to jump up and bellow out at whoever-the-hell-they-thought-they-were.
So, what is this? What's up with my mind? How gross.
That's about it. Now I'm disgusted, so I'll just leave off.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005


1]Looooooooong weeekend.
2]Happy Diwali. More sound, less light this year round. To be precise, the explosions started at 0547 hrs Tuesday morning. And went on till well past midnight. What larks. Still, if one stuck one's fingers in each ear, and gritted one's teeth, it all looked pretty pretty from the rooftop. So now you know what I did.
3]The Shro has flew away to Geneva on work. My heart aches*.
4]Met frund Thirtha after oh-so-long and it was nice. Same old same old.
5]Slept in late on many days.
6]Grinned and watched as Pinkai sweetly lit up diyas in and around the house.

*To make up for said heartache, I crashed at Shro's place..*lopsided half-grin*
About my last post. I can see people reeling in the streets, not getting it. Smile!Here's the smallish explanation.

My dear crazy Fabida had a beautiful boy express delivered to her by a Stork, the Sunday prior to the one just gone by. She was undecided on a name. THEN, she became decided on a name. That name is YASEEN. And it is a gorgeous name for us Muslims.
To clarify further, Yaseen is the name of one of the chapters in the Holy Quran. That is the link I had put up on the previous post. Or rather, it was the translation of the original Arabic. It is quite stunning in the Arabic, and English, of course, doesn't even come close to capturing anything like its true meaning. Still, there it is.

Hope some brows are unfurrowed.