what i've been eating when the steam-roller was taking a break

in the blur that has been my my life of late, a few food places and individual dishes stand out, here's the listing:

1.
masala prawns, made to order, at (of all places!) Hotel Rudra, Pune (don't ask me where it is, somewhere near Pimpri)

wierdly enough, you'd expect the average highway-hotel in India to serve up indifferent food, off an eclectic 'Indian-Chinese-Continental' menu. and it does. but here's the trick, go off the menu, and ask them to make simple stuff, ghar-ka-khaana, the way you like it (it helps if you have a big-chested booming voice, and a don't-fuck-with-me demeanour; my photographer had it in spades!)

almost every night we ate there, we had the same set of starters; excellent fish fingers (moistly-crumbly insides, and seasoned, crisp, crumb-fried outsides), and these prawns - de-veined, tossed in oil which has been heated with red chilli, curry leaves, a 'leeedle' crushed garlic, and then lightly salted. AND I MEAN TOSSED! only enough, to take away rawness and send the heat right through. perfect! you can lime'y them up if you like (i hate lime), and then have them all compete with your beer or whiskey under a cool, pune night-sky. which is exactly what we did.

2.
a good khichdi. fuck the menu! when in doubt, anywhere in middle India, order daal-khichdi. you CANNOT go wrong.

3.
some stuff at Banyan Tree, Worli/Prabhadevi: the chicken thingie i had, the 3-cheese pasta salad Jonty had, the goopy chocolate thing we dug into (was it mississippi mud-pie or death-by-chocolate?) was also luverly.

Jonty, jog my horrendous memory. as you can see, i recall the evening, mainly cause i was hanging out with you guys after such an age, but my dotard, sieve-like recollection has let all the other details get hazy. i didn't think the menu was consistently great, the service was kinda slow (and it was a slow night) but if you're at a loose end, and want a nice meal in a casual, yet not down-market place, go.

4.
another wierd entry: great chicken tikka at Geofferey's, who would have figured? but then, it's an upscale watering joint, so the fact that they have good starters, does stand to reason.

in an unrelated aside, that evening TOTALLY drove home the immense benefits of drinking GOOD HOOCH! i put away an astonishing amount of it that night (by my considerably-lessened standards)

Jack, on-the-rocks (SODA SUCKS, people!!! how DARE you!?!) less than 10, but only just; and i made it to work very respectably the next morning, with only the suggestion of a head-buzz. SUPER!!! YAAY!

5.
enough now... have marked this spot, No. 5.
shall get back to this list in a bit. gotta go now:

a. gotta pee
b. rejoin the human race
c. watch Ma make lunch (horrible, lazy-arsed, bitch me)
d. bathe myself (squeaky-clean, cucumber-soap smelling, swishy-haired me)
e. and perhaps, join the salivating multitudes thronging for the new Harry Potter flick today (yes, i'm a FAN, so shut your cake-hole if you're about to even THINK anything disparaging!)

to sign off, i plan to watch Shivaji tmrrw!!
hahahahahaha! am rolling about just imagining it.
let's hope Thallaiva Rajini lives up to the absurd hype!

Thallaiva Rajini Vaazhugge!
Thallaiva Rajini Vaazhugge!
Thallaiva Rajini Vaazhugge!

that's 'long live Rajini Leader!', for you cretin-types that didn't figure that out :p

steam-rolled, cause i'm stoopid

it's official, i'm an ass.

an ass who lets life (more specifically, WORK!), stomp all over her, kick her about, spit on her, scuff her up and tan her into "sense"lessness and then leave her ogling at the sky wildly; while WORK! goes on its merry way, smoking a cigar and being its ballsy, smug self! bastard! and i use that in a non gender-specific way; WORK! is sometimes a man, sometimes a woman; akin to Desire from the 'Sandman' graphic novels.

as you can imagine, i have been masochistically rolling in it for some time now, deluding myself somewhere along the way, that i do this cause it's fun (duh! that's what masochism is, stoopid!)

yes, work's fun. tons of fun. and since mid-may, i have coordinated 3 still-shoots, one ad film shoot for 2 commercials and a couple of tactical print releases (which, are definitely NOT fun!) and there's still more in the offing.

the point though, is that i've let everything else slide. no swimming, barely any reading, no movies, minimal hanging out with my friends, and worst of all, my mom thinks i'm a stuck-up, anal, work-bitch. true Ma, i am.

and my love-life? or even the bonk-bulletin (two sometimes-separate, sometimes-entwining concepts)? puhleez! let's not even GO THERE!

so where's the respite? all i see is cloud, where-the-fuck is the lining? i'll take a lighter grey, we can chuck silver for now!

my new name for me: stoopid manilal

pull me out of the mire, my darlings, please!

of tan-lines and the dirt beneath my toenails

aaaah! i'm home. after an AMAZING 2 weeks in Pune.

i find these stints reduce me to a spazzed-out, idiot-IQ'ed & saucer-eyed freak concerned only with where her next nap and meal are coming from, so i'll refrain from trying to post.

just a quick shout-out to all my loves. hola peeps, i'm back!

have i told you lately, you're a dumbass

this title has NOTHING to do with the post.

sing the line to rod stewart's yucky best though, and it's hilarious. enough to lift me out of the sludgy 'i hate everybody, everything!'-mood that work has put me in today.
P.S. it's 10:30 p.m., and i'm in office (so much for the cushy life of The Client!)

am now in a tearing hurry, here's the afore-mentioned poem, another ode to pointless crushes.

another wasted sigh

it can't only be about
the moles by your mouth,
two clichés on one face.

or your lashes, cow-like
and shameless; in the way
they beckon me to stare.

it can’t be, your crooked teeth
within that lopsided grin, pardon
for the sin you won't commit.

or your amusing taste
in music, so dated; and happy
in its own’ness.

it must be me then.
my willing foolhardiness,
so ready for choppy seas.

It has to be me,
and my horrendous need
for brick walls to break against.