Lazy Sunday inventory

So I went home to Delhi for Diwali, and stayed on cheekily at the expense of my salary being halved. (Except it's Gurgaon now, and a good hour and a highway away from the capital.)

Bombay touch down last evening. For the novelty of super delayed flights, fly Spicejet. Feel the time difference.

Delhi was nice. Buying Diwali lights near Sarojini, ingesting copious amounts of smog, while screaming SHAADDAP to drivers honking at the back, hearing properly north Indian MC/BC/GC/PVCs in the bargain; what phonetic melody! And I feel like a traitor, for not being abreast with the wonderfully inspiring progress the Delhi metro is making. Shiny and silver, sharp too, like an infant's deceptive nails. And growing rapidly, stretching the same kid on lactogen. City flyovers incite less passion in me, but analogies can always be thought of.

Perfunctory chakkars of Khan, CP, Univ, and all things Central and Lodhi were made. How I hate my slummy Bombay residence in unfair comparision. There's no red Diner here, not even a Dilli Haat. And I do so miss my pseudo Delhi kajal and mojri dressing. Bombay is more mixed fibres. And crepe de chine. (Hear the sound, corect my spelling.) And I've answered the so bacche, are you liking Bombay question, so tepidly, so often, that I'm feeling a bit pale at the insipidity of the whole thing.

Oh, there's now a bicycle stand outside the Vishwavidyalaya metro station now. Much credit due to the planners. Brav-o! Rent a bike for ten bucks. Rick guys are mighty pissed we presumed, but a two wheeler victory isn't to be downplayed.

D-School canteen being redone. Fingers crossed it doesn't turn out characterless and completely tiled. The white-liveried Diwan sa'ab there letting out a haan ji madame, badde dino se nahiin dikhei. Me grinning, Bhaiiya ji, humne padhai hamesha hamesha ke liye chhod di hai. And having paid a fifty for 2 rajma chawals and 2 Mazaas, off we went. The same rajma chawal that my maid in Bombay puts curry pata in. She also has this capsicum and bhindi speciality, but why bring nausea into it.

I met peobles I hadn't planned to, and skipped out on some supposedly important ones. I did go to a friend's birthday do, and initially sat on a sofa while everybody else was seated on the non-carpeted-November floor. The party was a bunch of to-be lawyers discussing penal codes and Facebook. They kept using the word "scoping" in place of trying. Look at her scoping to trip him. Scoping this, scoping that. The plate of chicken was placed low enough for the mutt to nip at. Poor thing, scoped and scoped, doomed to fail, he just got whacked. Redundant taste buds beget disparate nuggets of latent memory, but this stops here, right where Kilroy was.