Hmm…I’m in Chennai since the last few days. I like it. The food (one of my prime concerns in any city) is good. I pounce on every chance of devouring a dosa. And every time I do, how I curse the convoluted versions of dosa that we get back in Mumbai. I love the sambhar, and coconut chutney that they give.
Okay, I suddenly realised I’m very hungry, gotta go. *Poof*

Psst: People here are also generally very courteous; and honk much less (again comparative).


Ramadan brings with it some fond memories. Though, I admit, I’ve never fasted for more than a couple of days, purely because of my laziness…going through the ordeal of waking up in the wee hours of morning, and stuffing yourself up. And it’s not that one cannot fast in the absence of this early morning grub….it’s just that I never did.
Anyways, so, Ramadan was a whole different time back home. In the local marketplace….almost all the shops seemed to gear-up for it. You could see street-vendors with loads of dates, sweetmeats, snacks and what not. Then as evening approached hoards of people flocked the market…preparing for the much-awaited Iftaar in each home.
The small market was decorated during the whole month with criss-cross ribbons, and small flags. Some enterprising vendors decorated their wares with aluminium foils, which glittered in the sunlight. Then as technology improved, people started decorating there shops with flickering lights. The spirit, however remained the same. The whole aura used to be different. It was surprising to see how the hustle and bustle before the Iftaar time gently got replaced with an awkward silence of about half-an-hour when the devout broke their fast.
Coming back to the original topic of my fondness for Ramadan…the reason was totally selfish. I didn’t fast, but my sisters did. Sometimes for the whole month. And at home it was a protocol that everyone in the family has to be at the Iftaar…whether or not you’re fasting.:). Umm…I’m still reminded of the awesome food mom used to prepare. On an average, I guess, I used to gobble much more than my sisters, or anyone else in the family.
Then as we grew up, Iftaar parties at friends’ place became common. And we used to wait for some specific Iftaar parties… friends’ whose moms were awesome cooks. 😉
Miss it, I do.

Vox Populi?

Instant justice…delivered by the people seems to be the latest fad. Or maybe it’s is just that it’d always existed, and thanks (or no thanks) to technology we’re able to witness it. But anyways, it seems to be catching-up…and how.
Seems, in the time to come, we might come across such advertisements:

Are you angry?….d’u want to channel out your grudges about something on someone?…are you discontented with life on the whole?…d’u have any personal problems?/financial?/marital disputes? Wait no more….join the ‘beat-the-sh*t’ club!

We provide intensive 2-weeks training on throwing chairs, pulling hair, kicking, and tearing clothes. Our methodology concentrates on imparting theoretical, as well as practical knowledge. Tune-in to CNN IBN/IndiaTV anytime of the day to watch some of our patrons on-the-job (*wink wink*.)

Sign-up for the premium membership and you stand to win a gift hamper with lots of goodies (like punching bags, foldable-chairs, aanddd…hold your breath, a DVD of the choicest of abuses from all over the country.)

So what are you waiting for….call now!! Call Jaggu our toll-free number 1-800-BEAT-THE-SH*T.

Specialised short-term courses on “how to befriend the local police” also available.

Although, it doesn’t look like people need much of a training. But maybe such clubs would help make things more organised.