“What a nice smile you have. Wow! And you’ve definitely lost weight. You are looking so fabulous! My god, these jeans make you look HOT! And curvy in all the right places. You look perfectly marvelous in this color, too. You simply must wear it all the time. It brings out your eyes so well. We really don’t see you often enough, you know. It’s lovely to have you here, you make the place light up. Really…” 😉
Tiny kiosks selling “American Corns” have become both cottage industry and franchise opp nearly everywhere in metropolitan India. I see them in every market and every mall and movie theatre.
The other day, near a stall that sell the steamed “corns” (in masala – yum, Chinese – too salty, Italian – too much oregano, and American – absolutely bland flavors) I found the discarded packaging of the frozen kernels.
It gives me the absolute heebie-jeebies every time I see it written down as corns (plural).
I always, always get a mental visual that grosses me out. In fact, a simple google search will show you exactly what I mean.
Ick, ick, ick, ick.
Long gone are the days when posters and billboards were painted by a human being, lovingly and sometimes with hilarious results. But some of us can’t help deface the photographic posters that adhere to every single surface, I guess. I found this ‘improved’ Titan ad featuring an even more ruffianesque Aamir Khan utterly brilliant. I wanted to juxtapose the original but, alas, was unsuccessful in finding the image online. If you spot the original, in Delhi or anywhere, do email me a photo!
Incidentally, I’m far from being the only person documenting this. Check out the poster-art by the very funny, very talented Annu Palakunnathu Matthew (whom I interviewed for the now-defunct Masala magazine eons ago).
As pretty much anyone who will listen long enough to hear me complain knows by now, I fell down the stairs last week and got pretty severe whiplash. I finally succumbed and got myself a stupid neck brace (also called a ‘collar’) (Please. I’ve already heard all the jokes) and, to my chagrin, it does help support my neck and prevent extra strain.
The brand of my brace is “MGRM.” In cursive, the acronym is spelled out below the trademarked logo: “May God Rehabilitate Mankind“. I was rather hoping the manufacturers of the brace would step in there, honestly…
There are several of these dudes who criss cross our neighborhood on these decked out bikes, crying “jhadoo, mop, wiper” in their sing song voice. I just love the sight, though I confess I have yet to give any one of them business… but when I lived in the States, I often yearned for an old fashioned stoop-and-sweep ‘jhadoo’. I never got the hang of the witch-type brooms.
I think I like the Rastafarian feather dusters best, though the red halo type rings are very intriguing, too.
This was taken in Goa — right near the NON-path through god knows who’s backyards to Curly’s at South Anjuna. So much for beating around the bush, this is precisely where our cab driver chucked us out, threw his car into reverse and left us standing in the dark.
The sign I wish I had been able to take a picture of, however, was better. It said, in big red letters on white, “PLEASE. YOU THINK POSITIVE” (yes, really!)
I was on my way to the airport, pretty sure I’d miss my flight, so we didn’t stop. 🙁
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