SUNDAZE

It's the weekend; when you work in an industry where Saturdays are not a holiday, you really cherish the shit out of that one Sunday. You want to know how I spent my Sunday? I went to my hajaam, Zeeshan, who had to neaten my beard (yes, it takes a lot to look naturally scruffy). The way women have to go to the parlour every two weeks or so to stop looking like men, members of the bearded brethren have to make the trip once a week to keep hair from going into their nose.

I have a nephew, who is a year and some months. Truth be told, I love the shit out of him. Not in a 'he's-my-nephew-so-I-have-to-like-him-or-I'll-be-ostracised-from-my-family' way. For the first four months of his life, I used to look at him and wonder if he would do anything besides stare. The most interesting thing he had done was blink twice. He was just a tiny person who happened to be living in my house. Boy, how that's changed!

Since he lives with us, every weekend he goes to his nani's house. Which I completely understand. But I HATE IT. The house just feels so bloody empty. His two favourite things are the IOHAWK and the aforementioned FENDER guitar. Now, when I see my guitar, I miss him. He's got good taste. Let's hope our Gujrati genes don't fuck it up for him!

If Test Cricket is a movie, then the IPL is an item song. And while we may bitch and moan about the bastardisation of cricket, I personally think the IPL is great. It's cricket, it's entertainment, it's top class cricketers. It's the most perfect background noise you can have. The problem arises once it gets over. Then the silence haunts you.

Well that's not true. But it sounded dramatic enough.

Once a month, a very close friend and I, let's call her Dynamo, meet for dinner. It's our date night. We've been friends for over twelve years now. We go way back. But now with life happening and making time to grow up, we don't get to hang out as much. Kids, keep your friends close. Really close. Because they will move away with time. Then it's up to the bond you've built to see how far they go. One thing though about growing up together is that you learn to embrace each others flaws. You learn to laugh about them. And accept them. You can be you, without any feeling of judgement, and that truly is the beauty of friendship.

Okay this post is becoming preachy. Say something stupid fast. IHAVEBIEBERFIEVER. Also, I can't spell 'fever'. There, balance is restored.

Do you know which is the most honest ad on TV right now? It's an ad for Pan Parag. The ad goes like this: tacky green background, a Pan Parag dabba comes on screen followed with the jingle (pan parag, pan masala) and the voiceover says "Pan parag khaya kya?" No bull-shitting, no hard sell. In comparison, the ad for Vimal Pan Masala shows Ajay Devgn getting his future told to him by a man who looks like the love child of Dumbledore and Dobby. Then all the world's elaichi comes together to form these bridges and spires on which comes the 'hoor pari' looking for her Axe man who has the elaichi wala aphrodisiac in his pocket. Guys, it's Ajay Devgn. And pan masala. Let's chill our tits a little?

Okay the ads are over. Match is on.

Until I feel like typing again,
M

COMPLETELY INCOMPLETE

Apologies to the people who were sitting by their computer screens, waiting for yesterday's post. That means you Mom. Though judging by the content below, I hope my mom sits this one out. 

Its 4/22. 4/20 was supposed to be the day where smokers everywhere light one in unison. Or something to that effect. My 4/20 was rather interesting. It felt like 420. A scam *insert no mouth smiley* 

Arrangements were made to pick up goods from Worli. What I didn't realize was this gentlemen who we were supposed to meet with was busier than Modi's PA. 

Shouldn't have referenced Modi in this post. Fuck.

We got there. We waited. And waited. Our good friend, dear sir, refused to answer his phone. Refused to. And we didn't call him once. We probably called him more than Salman called Aishwariya after their break-up. 

Shouldn't have reference any of those people. This is probably my last post. 

So I went to change my guitar strings yesterday. Yes, I know you thought that the story was going to continue, but then I got bored writing it. This is that type of blog. 

So yes, guitar strings. I was lucky enough to be gifted a Fender Stratocaster by a very cool person who I won't name (see, I'm learning!) For those who don't know,  the Fender Stratocaster is the holy grail of the guitar world. I enter the store. Tell them I needed my strings changed. The man at the counter shrugs me off saying, "Saturday ko mileaga." (You'll get it on Saturday). It takes 15 minutes to change guitar strings: surely not 72 hours. Anyway, I was in the process of unzipping the case and removing the guitar, when he saw the headstock with the word 'FENDER' on it. His tone changed, I kid you not. He backtracked and said, "Shaam ko aapko guitar mil jaayega" (You'll get your guitar in the evening). Racism exists all around us.
Okay now I'm hungry. It's lunch time. Somewhere in the world. 

Until I type www.blogger.com again,
M

LOSING MY BLOG VIRGINITY

Ive always admired people who write blogs. In fact i was so inspired, i even made an email address called "aagesewritelena@gmail.com" That was three years ago. Obviously that didn't work out. But here I am now. Its 35 degrees, it feels like its 45. Every year the heat in Mumbai keeps getting worse. Add to that the humidity, and you sometimes feel like you're stuck in the blouse of a fisherwoman, beating the heat to sell her wares! Yes, thats not a pretty image. But hey, there was fair warning in the description of this blog!

Holi. Do you guys know what holi is? For people not in India, you think you have an idea. What they don't tell you is that the bloody color doesn't wash off. My toe nails are still purple. People look at me and say "Goth is out bro" Well fuck you too!

Coffee. Who doesn't like a cup of coffee? Its my saviour, my juice, my release and my solace. But when its hotter than an african rainforest outside, its so hard to have that first sip. You just let it sit there. And simmer. Waiting for it to cool down. Then you get distracted because you're writing a blog. And then it gets too cold.

Hey its 420! Who doesn't enjoy a good joint once in a while? I didn't use to smoke "drugs" until two years ago. Then i saw the light-er. Sorry. That was a two rupees joke. Do you know what a two rupee joke is? This blog!

Until next time.
M