law school and its mysteries...

i thought the worst question in the world was - "why do you want to study law?".
and i also thought that i am done with this question after one semester in law school.
and yes i definitely am
but now, arose another question...
a worse one... much worse...
"are you related to Bipasha Basu?"
and if anybody wants to know why this is worse...then obviously they haven't seen me...
disclaimer: the title has nothing to do with the post. it was just a whim. a mere fancy.

here i go again

people reading my blog are sure to think that i am some psychotic female who has an obsession for foreigners eating in indian restaurants...and i must admit it has become quite a past time...
today i saw three men eating naan and kababs...it reminded me of the last time i had chicken tetrazzini with dinner rolls...and i laughed( u may not find it funny). i laughed all the same.

A Fairytale Ending...

fairytales never failed to leave an impression on my mind and i think i can safely generalise it for everyone who has been introduced to this magic very early on. the one most striking and one can say symbolic aspect of fairytales is the ending- "...and so they lived happily ever after". often accused of running away from reality ( which i must admit is true), as i tried one last time to think of an excuse, a defence, an argument in my favour...i hit jackpot- fairytales...that was the reason of all my woes. i read to much, i read to many...i wept with the ugly duckling, i flew on the flying trunk, i lost my dainty glass slipper, i pushed the witch into the oven, i ate the 'porridge that was just right', i bit the poisoned apple and i pricked my finger and finally i fell asleep...for a 100 years (or so i'd like to believe) but whatever be the case i always lived happily ever after.
A fairytale ending is not an ending nemore but merely a beginning for everyone...it is a vision, an utopian illusion with which we start our journey and over time rationality starts to take over, practicality interferes and pragmatism disillusions...
Call me a loser, an escapist, a foolish romantic, a fantasist, a lethargic arse...but i shall continue to live ever so happily ever after...

saunff da saga

i was eating out with my parents that night. went to an old favourite of mine called mirch masala. i had been craving for cheese naan, murgh methi malai and hot gulab jamun with chocolate ice cream for a long time. so there i was, too busy concentrating on my food to notice anything else but somehow this one did not manage to escape my eye. no i am not talking of eye candy but just a very minor incident that stayed with me. There was this 'firang' couple sitting at the table opposite to ours ( europian i think) and at that very moment their bill had arrived along with the customary bowl of mouri/saunff with mishri (indian version of mouth fresheners) . yes i am writing about an unimportant, insignificant, inconsequential bowl of saunff. it is something that i am so used to that i suppose i have always taken it for granted. but that incident forced me to spare a thought for a poor little bowl of saunff. i had never before in my life seen anybody stare so suspiciously at a bowl of saunff . i tried to imagine what was going through the couple's mind but just failed to come up with any plausible explanation as to how a bowl full of saunff could instigate such apprehension. maybe indian cuisine with all its abundant mirch and masalas was playing excruciating games with their tender dispositions and that had prompted such a reaction but i shall never really know for sure. As for saunff it shall continue to please customers after a good dinner and also enjoy occassional paper napkin outings(if u kno wat i mean)

we came, we saw and we waited...

indian standard time - bad
west bengal standard time- worse
It was debo and me, sitting there, amidst a few social workers who munched on jhalmuri and cracked extremely bad jokes. we were waiting to be delegated some work...and a long wait it was. As we sat there on the dusty sofa, i was confused( as usual) and was wondering what to do, how to behave, whether to laugh politely or to take the liberty to grimace at the poor display of sense of humour that surrounded me. My thoughts suddenly disrupted ( due to the arrival of two bowls of jhalmuri for us), i turned to talk to debo. Seeing the hassled look on his face i ventured to ask him what was wrong. he whispered- "my butt is aching!". Although people might find this complain rather strange but everyone acquainted with debo are aware of the sorry fact that unlike everyone else he is unfortunately not blessed with an arse per say, so if he sits in the same posture for a long time, his bony bottom tends to revolt.
After giving him a sympathetic pat on his arm, i returned to my thoughts. i realised that having nothing to do, absolutely no intellectual or physical exertion(except for munching on jhal muri), especially with lunch long overdue was quite frustrating. I concluded that waiting with repressed hunger and odd "butt pains" can be really tiresome especially when there is no way out but to sit like demure, soft spoken students representing their alma mater.