Now, most of you who read this meet me and text me often enough to know what's happening in my life. For those of you who have been wondering where I've been, here's an update:
Monday, May 17, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The thing about long-distance love affairs is that...I CAN'T STAND THEM! I'll change my mind soon when my better self emerges from the bathroom where it's having a hot, Body Shop scented shower to soothe its worn nerves...but right now I have had it with it being patient and understanding.
Thursday, February 11, 2010
One of the things I love about A is that he loves his work. I mean, REALLY likes what he does. He's a chef (though he says he isn't technically, but whatever) and it's not a world I understand much. I'm a foodie, definitely, but let's be honest, I'm a ghaati foodie. I love toasted cheese sandwiches dipped in tomato sauce. I'll eat anything as long as it's spicy. I cannot appreciate subtle flavours. If the food doesn't make my throat burn and my eyes water, I don't like it. I am however adventurous with my meats, so that's something.
Friday, January 29, 2010
In about 50 minutes, A's flight will be taking off - first to Hong Kong, then onto The Other Home in Melbourne. I'm sitting here, drowsy from all the cough syrup I've been having (no no, not to numb the pain, I am actually sick) and a little glumstoned.
Friday, January 15, 2010
Life's been picking up, in pace, in value. A year of full-time work completed and a need a for change arisen. Sudden illness, even more sudden death. And seeing A.
given to you by Liquifier at 12:24 PM
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
Dear Bal Thackeray,
Do us all a favour and shut up. Seriously. I don't know if you ever did anything good for your precious state, apart from create chaos, but even if you did, I don't care.
I'm not writing as a journalist, Mr Thackeray. Nor as a political commentator and not even as a passionate Indian as such.
I'm simply a crazy Tendulkar fan. Now, we are not to be messed with, Mr Thackeray. We outnumber journalists and commentators and we're nowhere near as rational.
Do you know, Mr Thackeray, on April 24th, 1998, when India played Australia at Sharjah in the Coca-Cola Cup final, I skipped school to watch that match? It was Sachin's 24th birthday and how we partied. He made 134 runs and we won the series. I had posters of Sachin and photos of that match all over my room.
I don't recall anybody staying home from school to listen to one of your speeches.
That is what he inspires, Mr Thackeray. That is how much he is loved.
And how does he do it? How does a short, stocky, squeaky-voiced man rise to this kind of popularity? Maybe because he brings people together, Mr Thackeray. Not by giving long bhashans, but by engaging cricket lovers all over the world to come together and have fun.
He is more patriotic than you will ever be, Mr Thackeray. He has done more for your Mumbai, your Maharashtra and all the un-Maharashtrian bits of India than all your saffron snobbery. Go to Wankhede Stadium sometime when there's an India match on. All the spectators may or may not be Maharashtrians, but they'll be cheering extra-loud when Sachin walks out.
Get over it, Mr Thackeray.
The world loves Sachin. A section of Maharshtra loves you.
Sachin has been 20 years in cricket, is dignified and a damn good sport. You guys destroy greeting card shops and slap MLAs on national television.
You tell me which one of you is the better Mumbaikar.
given to you by Liquifier at 2:52 AM