Sunday morning 5 am: Holy shit! I think I should sleep now. Trashy "50 Shades of Grey" can wait till tomorrow. *Inner Goddess screams*- Two more pages please. C'mon!
5:30 am: Kindle reads- 75% of the book has been read. *Inner Goddess satisfied and says* get some sleep, kid.
11:30 am: While brushing my teeth I go over in my head about the book, the cupboard which has to be sorted, the saffron man who passed away, a day to myself which I gladly welcome, the promises which I have not kept. Splash! i wash them away and victoriously walk down the corridor to my room.
12:00 pm: Tea in one hand, phone in another- do I have to call anybody? Like really? Home- check. Brother- check. Granny- check.
12:30 pm: Phone beeps. Person 1- "Am so loving the house arrest." Person 2: "Oh! Death of Shiv Sena chief has brought the city to a halt." Person 3: "Can't step out, Bombay stops." A slight bit of annoyance runs through me. You say it doesn't bother you that a natural death has happened in the city, but every moment you are talking about it, sulking, being angry, and rejoicing. If it doesn't matter, then just sit back and let go.
12:35 pm: Bored and tired by the tweets, BBM status messages, and broadcasts, I wonder what should I eat to make it a not-so-sulky-day. Of course regular places from where we order- Metro cafe, Geet Bhavan are shut. So, when in doubt have an egg.
12:45 pm: I start cooking with room mate. Goan egg curry (you guessed it- my room-mate is a Goan) and rice is on the menu. Awesomeness happens and we make incredible egg curry and some out of the world plain rice :| Yes, we didn't depend on Maggie this time around.
1:15 pm: I switch on the radio to hear some Sunday afternoon music. Instead I heard that 2-3 lakhs people have gathered at Shivaji Park for the public cremation of the Big Guy. Bored again- I put on some stored music. Cooking egg curry and listening to Luv Shuv Tey Chicken Khurana- spiced up the afternoon.
PS: The shady characters of the book are going on in my head and am loathing to get back to it.
2:00 pm- Awesome food is ready. A Sunday is perfect when you laze around, eat, and watch BBT (read: Big Bang Theory). I watch about 10 episodes back-to-back of Sheldon Cooper annoying the shit out of everybody. But boy, that is guaranteed fun.
......
.....
Suddenly 6:30 pm: I hear a vehicle outside. I rush to the balcony. I see cars making hurried drives, water tanks quickly parking themselves, taxis breezing through the streets, and Bombay crawling back to life.
7:00 pm: I scratch my head this time to figure out about food as stock doesn't look very encouraging. And then I look at the food cupboard and think- When the world fails you, Wai Wai/Maggie doesn't.
7:30 pm: Good friend returns from Diwali vacation. So food stock goes up again with gujia/gaja/petha/mathri. Bite that bitches!
yap
yap
some more yap
9:00 pm- Now I think, a glass of wine or a beer would have ended this day perfectly. Blasphemy. It is a dry day- You Nut Case! Remember I told you- I have a Goan room-mate? Wine it is. Some wine, some cup board cleaning and finally- after a tough tough day- I get back to the book!
Monday morning 2:00 am- Keeping up with the "Spirit of Bombay," I have to get back to work tomorrow, alas- I should sleep!
This is how my life was affected on Sunday- November 18. Something happened? Somebody died? Except eating Maggie for dinner and not meeting friends for a Sunday supper, nothing in my life was different. It doesn't mean I want to say more people should die, but I mean- get over it. Let's talk about Ponty Chaddha instead.
5:30 am: Kindle reads- 75% of the book has been read. *Inner Goddess satisfied and says* get some sleep, kid.
11:30 am: While brushing my teeth I go over in my head about the book, the cupboard which has to be sorted, the saffron man who passed away, a day to myself which I gladly welcome, the promises which I have not kept. Splash! i wash them away and victoriously walk down the corridor to my room.
12:00 pm: Tea in one hand, phone in another- do I have to call anybody? Like really? Home- check. Brother- check. Granny- check.
12:30 pm: Phone beeps. Person 1- "Am so loving the house arrest." Person 2: "Oh! Death of Shiv Sena chief has brought the city to a halt." Person 3: "Can't step out, Bombay stops." A slight bit of annoyance runs through me. You say it doesn't bother you that a natural death has happened in the city, but every moment you are talking about it, sulking, being angry, and rejoicing. If it doesn't matter, then just sit back and let go.
12:35 pm: Bored and tired by the tweets, BBM status messages, and broadcasts, I wonder what should I eat to make it a not-so-sulky-day. Of course regular places from where we order- Metro cafe, Geet Bhavan are shut. So, when in doubt have an egg.
12:45 pm: I start cooking with room mate. Goan egg curry (you guessed it- my room-mate is a Goan) and rice is on the menu. Awesomeness happens and we make incredible egg curry and some out of the world plain rice :| Yes, we didn't depend on Maggie this time around.
1:15 pm: I switch on the radio to hear some Sunday afternoon music. Instead I heard that 2-3 lakhs people have gathered at Shivaji Park for the public cremation of the Big Guy. Bored again- I put on some stored music. Cooking egg curry and listening to Luv Shuv Tey Chicken Khurana- spiced up the afternoon.
PS: The shady characters of the book are going on in my head and am loathing to get back to it.
2:00 pm- Awesome food is ready. A Sunday is perfect when you laze around, eat, and watch BBT (read: Big Bang Theory). I watch about 10 episodes back-to-back of Sheldon Cooper annoying the shit out of everybody. But boy, that is guaranteed fun.
......
.....
Suddenly 6:30 pm: I hear a vehicle outside. I rush to the balcony. I see cars making hurried drives, water tanks quickly parking themselves, taxis breezing through the streets, and Bombay crawling back to life.
7:00 pm: I scratch my head this time to figure out about food as stock doesn't look very encouraging. And then I look at the food cupboard and think- When the world fails you, Wai Wai/Maggie doesn't.
7:30 pm: Good friend returns from Diwali vacation. So food stock goes up again with gujia/gaja/petha/mathri. Bite that bitches!
yap
yap
some more yap
9:00 pm- Now I think, a glass of wine or a beer would have ended this day perfectly. Blasphemy. It is a dry day- You Nut Case! Remember I told you- I have a Goan room-mate? Wine it is. Some wine, some cup board cleaning and finally- after a tough tough day- I get back to the book!
Monday morning 2:00 am- Keeping up with the "Spirit of Bombay," I have to get back to work tomorrow, alas- I should sleep!
This is how my life was affected on Sunday- November 18. Something happened? Somebody died? Except eating Maggie for dinner and not meeting friends for a Sunday supper, nothing in my life was different. It doesn't mean I want to say more people should die, but I mean- get over it. Let's talk about Ponty Chaddha instead.
