India Ink

A week after the holiday ended, as always, it seems like there never was one. 6 weeks should keep me happy, right? Wrong. I am greedy…

So in a nutshell:

First on agenda was a nadi visit along with a friend. A decision I regret in hindsight. Not because bad things were said or not said… simply because it seems like an unwarranted worry. What if by some freaky chance he was dead on?
One of the things he told me was ‘abdominal ladies problem at 46’ after which I will have ‘nerve, head, mental problem at 48’. Thank you, but no thank you. I could have lived without that prediction.
But he said a couple of things bang on from my recent past — meaning the last 6 months. He also described two women — eerily familiary — whom I need to beware of. Hmmph!

Then the big event of the vacation took place — my parents’ golden jubilee bash.

Also…

In between all that I spent a long day at the parlor to get my shine on. That's how my face contour looks. How pretty, no?

Madras is looking greener, cleaner… some of those flyovers are a real blessing. But somethings never change… unfortunately. The metre continues to be a mere decoration for the autorickshaws.

But the real fun was the week following where we weathered 40+ hairpin bends for girls' getaway. More on that on another post.

For now, let me just say Vaalpaarai is beautiful. I am loving it…

Did the Delhi-Gurgaon-Simla circuit. Delhi I don’t love. I feel more foreign there than I do in Doha. And can people get any ruder? The place is filthy. Shamefully filthy — it’s the bleeding capital, can’t they take a little more effort in the parts that VIPs don’t frequent?

 

The monuments however are mindblowingly brilliant. Like the Qutb Minar complex for instance. Now, pray tell me who recruits these jerks to man the entrance and ticket counters? Rude idiots, refusing to converse in anything but Hindi. For goodness sake, these are international tourist sites, you've gotta be friendlier than that.

Brought back memories when I saw the wire sculpting outside Raj Ghat (where there were pan stains too). I bought a cycle 27 years ago. Picked up some pieces this time around too.

The Delhi metro is convenient. But people can't follow instructions obviously. Right below the sign is pan stain at the 1-day old Rajiv Gandhi Chowk station.

The words on the vehicle in combination with his ass tickled me. Jobless!

Managed to get time for some reading too. These are the four I read –actually 5, but the 5th is a different post.

 
 

Loved it. The man can tell a story. Take basic human cruelty, add an anthill and some gaming — voila! Didn’t like the ending though.

 

A surprise. Worth a read for sure.

What was the point?

Skip it!

Both brats had a blast…

 

For O it was the usual fooling around.

And N, seen using my nephew’s prized camera lens cap as a snack plate, was spoilt beyond belief.
  

Sigh! And that, my dears, was 6 weeks that disappeared before I could say ‘I hate Hindi chauvinism’.

  

 
 
ps: In case you wonder if I had anything but a blast, let me tell you — the return was horrible! I fell really sick hours before leaving Chennai and puked and crapped my way to Doha, and took a good week to recover with a dose of emergency IV aid and all. Ha! so evil eye already kapput.

 

 

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