A birthday and more...

Strato's birthday has come and gone. Can't believe it has been a year since this. Can recount a thousand happy tales from the past year and a few sad ones as well. The happy ones are centered around evenings spent watching movies, strolling in the dark and creepy campus gardens or giving surprises. And oh yes, those first times - (The first walk, the first movie and many things more suited to the confines of my mind and heart! ) Let us just leave the sad tales alone.
All in all, the lady in question has a rocking love life (by her own admission). Wish her all the luck and happy moments !

It felt nice to celebrate a birthday the way kids do. Bursting balloons, donning the birthday hat with all its frills hanging around, playing music in the background and smearing a pretty face with dark, black chocolate cake - I did all this and more. And to top it all, a nice piece of cake did the cameo, perched triumphantly on Strato's nose, making her resemble Mickey Mouse more than I resemble Hulk Hogan. Alas, I don't have a million dollars to dole out to Strato in legal suits, so cannot publish the photographs here.

In fact, the whole weekend was dominated by this agenda. I bought a nice French liqeur bottle, a few scented candles and in general, cleaned up my room. On Saturday, I also made aloo ke parathe. Bhagwan ki kasam, they were very delicious. The first one looked like a disgruntled amoeba, but the next two wore a more proper parathaish appearance. Then we had a nice get together with a pseudo-Surd friend and an old grouppie with her Mister ( the adjective old, by the way, is only for the association). Had a nice laugh and a not-that-nice dinner.

If you are in Mumbai and looking around for a place to have dessert/birthday cake, do try Birdys. Not immodestly priced and tastes like heaven. Very few things known to mankind could be more pleasant (and sinful?) than eating that rich chocolate cake. However, Pritam da dhaba turned out be a disappointment. The Rogan Josh had a faint bitterness reminiscent more of choloroquinol than curry patta. The Veg Makkhanwala was sweet. Overall, the food was something I wouldn't like to torture my palette with again. But there was something about the ambience that made me feel good. Can't say whether it was the open space, the rural setting or just the occasion.

There comes a time in everyone's life when you decide that you can't take it any more. Whether it is excess of work or lack of it. Excess of food or lack of it. Excess of vigorous physical activity or lack of it. The former makes you resemble a kid from Ethiopia, the latter makes you a true baniya with a waste size in nervous 50s . Right now, I have developed expertise in hunting houseflies, mosquitoes and other members of that gharana. And in the process of taking revenge, a spider has made me resemble a distant relative of Angelina Jolie.

It has also been a year since I attended the Oktoberfest last year. When the festival is on, even the trees in the gardens get to drink huge amounts of beer. Six million visitors, infinite amount of beer and only limited numbers of toilets - you get what I mean. It is one of those times when irrigating the trees no longer remains the forte of Indian men. The overflowing imagery aside, the atmosphere is as festive as it gets. I miss those times for the spirit in the air ( not the spirits in the masse ).


[http://home.kiski.net/~maury/poems/eliot.html]
"If you sit down at set of sun
And count the acts that you have done,
And, counting, find
One self-denying deed, one word
That eased the heart of him who heard
, One glance most kind
That fell like sunshine where it went--
Then you may count that day well spent. "
-George Eliot

Cherish thy friends, kyunki:


zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate

phool khilte hain,
log milte hain
phool khilte hain,
log milte hain magar
patjhad main jo phool
murjha jate hain
woh baharon ke aane se khilte nahin
kuchh log ek roz jo bichad jate hain
woj hazaron ke aane se milte nahin
umr bhar chahe koi pukara kare unka naam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate
http://www.free-lyrics.org

aankh dhoka hai
kya bharosa hai
aankh dhoka hai kya bharosa hai suno
doston shak dosti ka dushman hai
apne dil me ise ghar banane na do
kal tadapna pade yaad me unki
rok lo roothkar unko jaane na do
baad me pyaar ke chahe bhejo hazaron salaam
woh phir nahi aate
woh phir nahi aate


subaah aate hai
raat jaate hai
subaah aate hai
raat jaate hai yuhi
waqt chalta hi rehta hai rukta nahi
ek pal me ye aage nikal jaata hai
aadmi theek se dekh paata nahin
aur parde pe manzar badal jaata hai
ek baar chale jaate hai jo din raat subaah shaam
woh phir nahi aate
woh phir nahi aate

zindagi ke safar mein,guzar jate hain jo makam
woh phir nahin aate,
woh phir nahin aate