Showing posts from February, 2008

so gone

Am going here So tags on return Anita!

extraordinary, just like a straw-berry!

I have worked very hard the last few days. Been reading scripts submitted for a workshop - several of them and it's mind numbing in so many ways... I've earned me a drink. But I want a special one. A deserved one not a functional put the water in the vodka and the vodka in the girl one. So, here it is: a Dirty Pink Girl Recipe: Take 2-3 large strawberries and take off their shendis Make sure you've washed your hands before - no need to take the name literally Squeeze the strawberries, letting the juice run past your fingers, then mash the a little more between your fingers Drop them into glass Add vodka to taste, or need Top it up with water or soda Add ice Piyo Meri Jaan It tastes perfect and clean. Just the flavour of strawberries but no sweetness. Almost virtuous. And try not to see the resha resha of the strawberries as flaking doll's hair. Think of sea anemones instead.

the business of mixing business of pleasure

My house is smelling like America. People always talk about the smell of foreign that used to burst out of people's suitcases when they returned from abroad. But when you finally go to foreign you have your own idea of how it smells I think. The first time I smelled what I think of as the smell of America (to be correct the USA) was about ten years ago, in Crossword, when there was only one Crossword, next to Mahalkshmi temple. I had just started teaching at Sophia college and the occasional honorarium of (then ) Rs.450 seemed good for pleasure only, not the business of daily groceries. So I'd usually go to Crossword and buy a book, take a cab to the station instead of a bus after. And then one day standing like an upside down L in Indian fiction, then a modest shelf or two, I smelled the smell of good coffee, mixed with warm baking mixed with the heady smell of new books. I experienced severe disorientation. This was a smell that I smelled when I went to Louie's in Balt