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latest object of desire

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With renovations in the house there have been many objects of desire which cannot be had. Handmade tiles in colours with polysyllabic names- chartreuse, turquoise and so on.. but priced at a 100 each. But one cannot, even in one's fantasies, only think of the unreachable. It is necessary to reach into the inner pocket of your soul and find the thing that fulfils your most visceral desires. In my case, this: The Built NY Cargo Computer Sleeve. Those orange thingys are pockets. Sigh. Need I say more? Other than - I must have it?

What big, umm... you have mama

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I'm all for niche markets but this defied even my evil imagination. Anyway, all the mama bears out there, you cannot say you are not prepared with this handy helper. It is a book that tells you how to help children cope with MUMMY'S PLASTIC SURGERY!! And there's more to be had HERE

Jhoota kahin ka mujhe aisa mila

http://entertainment.oneindia.in/bollywood/news/2008/shahrukh-loses-six-pack-abs-160908.html Not that we loved Shahrukh for his muskels... but it's hard to love him for the amount of dissembling he's been doing of late And before anyone casts aspersions on my character or surfing habits - I only found it while looking for the show times of Mamma Mia! Speaking of abs - I saw the broadway show of Mamma Mia! in New York last summer. There were a couple of items with very gorgeous effotlessly 6-pack boys. Maria who'd come along said she was seeing it for the second time and she did not remember all these half clad men from that time. I figure the show figured out its primary audience soon enough - women near-abouts 40 (who might have ABBA nostalgia) and gay men. So they rewarded us for our loyalty - any problems?

a certain azaadi

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A producer I'm writing for says - I'll call you in the afternoon, after I've read the draft. I say - actually you won't be able to reach me between 1 and 5 because I'll be at the Queer Azadi march. ""Oh," he says, "is that today?" Yeah I say enthusiastically. I wait for him to say, "Maybe I'll come too." He says, "Ok I'll be sure to call only after." The day of the march my aunt and uncle stop by for raksha bandhan on the way to their farm, where they go on weekends. My aunt says, "why don't you just come along with us?" I say, would have been great to. But today's the day of the Queer Azadi march, so I definitely don't want to miss that. I see her trying to look poised even while her brain makes loud noises - is that why she's not married? But unlike in my youth when I would have only zoomed in on the disconcerted look in her eyes, today, I am impressed by her desire to remain poised,

no more rain checks

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For the first time in years I've been in Bombay over three months running with only a two day trip to Poona in between. And luckily for me it's been in the monsoon, which has been pretty here - as if to underline the ironies of life: those of us who kvetched about the South and North Bombay divide as proven through drainage in the 26/7 floods never think of the ironies of the say Bombay and Bihar divide: where for us it's romance, for someone it's death. Although that also applies in an everyday sense here in Bombay for those who live on the street. Because the monsoon light disguises the passing of the day I am less anxious and more able to think; yet unable to find the exact right answer of how to live with one's own pleasures without blocking out others' pain; to be compassionate of others' pain without disregarding of the small daily pleasures that sustain. To figure out that balance is obviously to be at peace, to be less pointlessly self absorbed

Searching...

...for a recording of this ghazal sung by who-ever (I don't know who sang it though I thought it was Begum Akhtar) Bas Ik Jhijhak Hai Yahii Haal-e-Dil Sunaane Me.n --Kaifi Azmi Bas Ik Jhijhak Hai Yahii Haal-e-Dil Sunaane Me.n bas ik jhijhak hai yahii haal-e-dil sunaane me.n ki teraa zikr bhii aayegaa is fasaane me.n baras pa.Dii thii jo ruKh se naqaab uThaane me.n vo chaa.Ndanii hai abhii tak mere Gariib-Khaane me.n isii me.n ishq kii qismat badal bhii sakatii thii jo vaqt biit gayaa mujh ko aazamaane me.n ye kah ke TuuT pa.Daa shaaKh-e-gul se aaKhirii phuul ab aur der hai kitnii bahaar aane main The only person I ever heard singing this was my dad, who'd sing it beautifully. He was of the generation that had never studied Hindi in school. He couldn't even write his own name in Hindi (his name was Ravi, but he'd write it and say - see - and it would be Ram - someone had obviously taught it to him as a joke). He'd studied Urdu so his relationship with Urdu po

the b-side of this whole rock music thing

Sunday releases me from my newspaper dilemmas - I get 6 papers and spend the mornings voluptuously drowning in their various registers. Today's Times Life! quoted Riddhima Kapoor sister of Ranbir, saying "Ranbir has a wide social circle compromising both sexes." Now I see why the boy is a gay icon.  Also I read one of those survey type interviews with the heroines of Bachna Ae Haseenon, where they were asked to complete lines like - I am turned on by a man if he.... /I get bored by men who... etc. In a bad habit I have had since I could read These Are a Few of My Favourite Things in Stardust, I imagined myself as a famous and sexy person being asked these sorts of pertinent questions. This would qualify as the most serious thing I did today unless you count eating last night's left over olive hummus and drinking a glass of rose as a noontime snack. I agreed with Minissha Lamba that what I like about men is that, well, they are men, my most heartfelt response was to