Now I know why I feel so lonely. All the chatting with pretty girls is not the solution, its the problem! Damn!
2008-11-04
Lonely no more
Now I know why I feel so lonely. All the chatting with pretty girls is not the solution, its the problem! Damn!
Three? Already?
Just read this. "Hamilton targets title hat-trick" reads the headline.
Woah!
Dude, you won it this time by 1 point - on the last corner of the last lap of the last race. That is the smallest margin in the history of ever.
Yes, you are just 23 and the youngest ever. But you also rear ended two guys waiting at the traffic lights.
I know its exciting and all, but if that head gets too big, you'll exceed the weight restrictions next year.
Piece of advice, my friend: Chaddi mein rehneka.
The Best Burger in New York
An episode of How I Met Your Mother (4x02) has this impassioned speech by Marshall when they spend a whole evening running around to find the 'perfect' burger that Marshall had had eight years ago.
While I later found out that it was lifted from Amadeus, obviously Salieri wasn't talking about burgers. The scene was great, balancing the comedic tone of the series with the poignant, passionate appeal of a man who has spent eight years looking for his long lost 'perfect' burger and is one hat-tip away. And we are shaken out of our reverie when Lily gets her riposte in
Just a Burger? Just a burger. Robin, it’s so much more than “just a burger”. I mean…that first bite—oh what heaven that first bite is! The bun like a sesame freckled breast of an angel resting gently on the ketchup and mustard below—flavors mingling in a seductive pas-de-deux And then…a pickle…the most playful little pickle! Then a slice of tomato, a leaf of lettuce and a…a patty of ground beef so exquisite; swirling in your mouth breaking apart and combining again in a fugue of sweets and savor so delightful. This is no mere sandwich of grilled meat and toasted bread, Robin: this is God…speaking to us in food.
While I later found out that it was lifted from Amadeus, obviously Salieri wasn't talking about burgers. The scene was great, balancing the comedic tone of the series with the poignant, passionate appeal of a man who has spent eight years looking for his long lost 'perfect' burger and is one hat-tip away. And we are shaken out of our reverie when Lily gets her riposte in
And you got our wedding vows off the internet..!Me? I was thinking about the Tandoori Chicken at 'Toni Da Dhaba' back in the days when childhood (mine) was carefree and youth (parents') was forgiving. When driving half way to Lonavala in December to sit on a charpoy with a fire-in-a-drum nearby was not a big deal. Nothing has come close since. Has it been 8 years? Probably more....
2008-11-03
Sorry to Disappoint
Why are some people so obtuse about certain things?
Before trying so hard to 'draw me out of my shell', did you pause for a moment and think that maybe that is how I am. I like it in my shell, thank you very much.
I am sorry I am not as ebullient and outgoing as you are, but we are not exactly stormtroopers in the clone army, are we?
I am sorry I don't share your enthusiasm about the music you listen to and the movies you watch and honestly, sometimes I don't even give a rat's ass about it. But I don't recall either of us conferring soulmate status on the other. Hell, I don't even recall conferring 'friend' status. So just let it go.
I am sorry I am not in the same league of 'coolness' or of the same wavelength as your old friends, but lets not pretend we are in this by choice. I feel your pain. But do I say it out loud every time? No.
When you ask me for my opinion on every bloody thing, and I just nod or say nothing, it doesn't mean I don't have an opinion. Trust me, I have an opinion on everything. But when I am silent, take it from me that it is not something you would want to hear.
I have a name. Its all very well adding '-ya' to someone's name to make it a nickname but do you really expect me to respond when you add it to my wireless SSID and address me by the concatenation?
Its ok if we are in the same room and there is silence for 10 minutes. Seriously, no pressure.
Regards,
Before trying so hard to 'draw me out of my shell', did you pause for a moment and think that maybe that is how I am. I like it in my shell, thank you very much.
I am sorry I am not as ebullient and outgoing as you are, but we are not exactly stormtroopers in the clone army, are we?
I am sorry I don't share your enthusiasm about the music you listen to and the movies you watch and honestly, sometimes I don't even give a rat's ass about it. But I don't recall either of us conferring soulmate status on the other. Hell, I don't even recall conferring 'friend' status. So just let it go.
I am sorry I am not in the same league of 'coolness' or of the same wavelength as your old friends, but lets not pretend we are in this by choice. I feel your pain. But do I say it out loud every time? No.
When you ask me for my opinion on every bloody thing, and I just nod or say nothing, it doesn't mean I don't have an opinion. Trust me, I have an opinion on everything. But when I am silent, take it from me that it is not something you would want to hear.
I have a name. Its all very well adding '-ya' to someone's name to make it a nickname but do you really expect me to respond when you add it to my wireless SSID and address me by the concatenation?
Its ok if we are in the same room and there is silence for 10 minutes. Seriously, no pressure.
Regards,
2008-11-02
Illusions are meant to be shattered
On Halloween, I decided to tone down the scariness and get myself a haircut. I have been blessed by hair that is absolutely unmanageable when longer than 2 inches, which has been compared by my aunt to a nylon floor mat. And she was being nice. So getting a haircut is a chore that is not very tolerant to the usual procrastination.
And thus I found myself walking to the hair cutting place just outside campus at 5:30 on Friday. Weekends being sacrosanct in the land of the free, no self respecting establishment would be open. But the fact that it was after 5 in the evening made it quite possible that my long walk would be for nothing and I would have to plod my way back with the mop on my head intact.
Things turned out better than I hoped. The last time I had been there, they had been planning a renovation and it was complete. Very nice indeed. Apparently, in a bid to actually pay for those renovations, they had decided to keep the place open on weekends too (and raised prices by a dollar, but then who hasn't). But better than that, they were open till 6, which meant that I could potentially go home light headed and free. The problem was the two people in the chairs and the two people waiting their turn. But the guy told me not to worry, they'll close after finishing with me. So I waited my turn outside and spent that half hour in a most pleasant manner, something I had almost forgotten. But that is not where the tale is headed.
I must reveal at this point that the reason most guys go this certain place outside campus is the prospect of having Danielle run her fingers gently through your hair, which has its attractions. Sharply contrasting with the on-campus hairdresser where you face a Rastafarian guy attacking you with clippers while bhangra music plays in the background (I kid you not). Men who have never paid more than Rs. 20 for a haircut and are morally against all forms of tips have returned with gelled spiky hair, misty eyes and wallets a couple of dollars lighter than the necessary 15. The reason why Chandler mouthed 'Oh my God!' when Kathy was trimming his hair becomes crystal clear as the shampoo is gently but firmly massaged into your hair.
Among one of my many social failings is a total lack of the ability to make small talk with random people. This was no different. I sat there in stony silence while she went to work. Then out of the blue ....
D: So, you heading out to any Halloween party?
A: (surprised) Nah. No parties. Have work to do.
D: You are doing Electrical Engineering, aren't you?
A: (barely masking :-o) You remember me?
D: Of course I do.
A: (smug look coupled with usual loss of words)
(couple of minutes pass by)
A: How about you?
D: huh?
A: Are you going to any party?
D: Oh no... I'm going to stay at home, put out candy for the neighborhood kids.
A: Oh.
D: My son and his dad are going though. He's dressed as the Hulk.
A: Oh.
(cue sounds of shattering glass or, like in recent bollywood fare - a flush)
A: (forced smile)
The forced smile stayed in place even as I shelled out the 2 dollars tip and trudged home with a heavy, broken heart.
And thus I found myself walking to the hair cutting place just outside campus at 5:30 on Friday. Weekends being sacrosanct in the land of the free, no self respecting establishment would be open. But the fact that it was after 5 in the evening made it quite possible that my long walk would be for nothing and I would have to plod my way back with the mop on my head intact.
Things turned out better than I hoped. The last time I had been there, they had been planning a renovation and it was complete. Very nice indeed. Apparently, in a bid to actually pay for those renovations, they had decided to keep the place open on weekends too (and raised prices by a dollar, but then who hasn't). But better than that, they were open till 6, which meant that I could potentially go home light headed and free. The problem was the two people in the chairs and the two people waiting their turn. But the guy told me not to worry, they'll close after finishing with me. So I waited my turn outside and spent that half hour in a most pleasant manner, something I had almost forgotten. But that is not where the tale is headed.
I must reveal at this point that the reason most guys go this certain place outside campus is the prospect of having Danielle run her fingers gently through your hair, which has its attractions. Sharply contrasting with the on-campus hairdresser where you face a Rastafarian guy attacking you with clippers while bhangra music plays in the background (I kid you not). Men who have never paid more than Rs. 20 for a haircut and are morally against all forms of tips have returned with gelled spiky hair, misty eyes and wallets a couple of dollars lighter than the necessary 15. The reason why Chandler mouthed 'Oh my God!' when Kathy was trimming his hair becomes crystal clear as the shampoo is gently but firmly massaged into your hair.
Among one of my many social failings is a total lack of the ability to make small talk with random people. This was no different. I sat there in stony silence while she went to work. Then out of the blue ....
D: So, you heading out to any Halloween party?
A: (surprised) Nah. No parties. Have work to do.
D: You are doing Electrical Engineering, aren't you?
A: (barely masking :-o) You remember me?
D: Of course I do.
A: (smug look coupled with usual loss of words)
(couple of minutes pass by)
A: How about you?
D: huh?
A: Are you going to any party?
D: Oh no... I'm going to stay at home, put out candy for the neighborhood kids.
A: Oh.
D: My son and his dad are going though. He's dressed as the Hulk.
A: Oh.
(cue sounds of shattering glass or, like in recent bollywood fare - a flush)
A: (forced smile)
The forced smile stayed in place even as I shelled out the 2 dollars tip and trudged home with a heavy, broken heart.
