Bad soup

I'm sure you've heard of finger foods. Ever come across finger bowl foods? Let me rewind a bit here..

Since B has a 'thing' for Ching's Chinese soup kits at Patel's, we've pretty much tried them all. Except for this one little packet for Lemon Corriander soup that has been languishing at the back of the closet for a while now. I retrieved it this evening when I really wanted to eat something, but didn't want to go through the motions of chopping or frying or anything else that involved me standing in the kitchen for more than 2 minutes.

Soup done. At this point, I must mention that I found the smell a bit fishy. But, in all fairness, I wanted to give this soup a chance.

The minute I brought that first spoon to my mouth though, it hit me. This was nothing other than a bunch of all the finger bowls from all restaurants condensed (dehydrated maybe?), smothered with some preservatives and thrown into a fancy pack. Shiny enough for people like me to pick up off the shelf.

Seriously Ching's, I'd rather drink my own finger bowl leftovers than other peoples'. Give this one a miss.

Fantasy indeed..

B writes, this afternoon:
Whats up?

I reply:
Nothing.

B writes:
Wow da…what a precise/concise answer. I always knew you had the talent to do something on these lines… Ok. I want you to start writing a novel. Completely fiction peeps. Can you do it? We can work on a plot together. Some fantasy novel like Harry potter/Twilight. Obviously it should be something new and original…you could make a lot of money! ;)

I reply:
I think you're delusional.
Looks like I have the writing bug in me after all!

B writes:
Haha… see… such precise writing. Why, if I may ask, am I delusional? I think you have the talent. You just refuse to believe it…

I blog:
Who does not dream of writing their own novel! Especially someone, like me, that reads almost a book a day..

I remember this one summer afternoon when Jan (one of my BFFs from when I was 2) and I, were bored. Both of us, in a flight of fancy, decided to write a novel. We were convinced that we would be the next Enid Blyton. Of course, no school girl stories for us. It had to be a jungle safari. What else! And the novel had to open up with a bang. Gripping the readers and drawing them in right from the first line where.. "She woke up in the middle of the night, startled". Then followed a lot of drama for about two chapters, by which time the computer conked out during one of those frequent power cuts (this was the time before the UPS) and all our stuff was lost. You'd think we'd have enough sense to save it!

And then there was the junior year in high school, when Zee, Bhare and I - the bunch of X-Files and Alien freaks - decided to come up with something sci-fi for a filler skit for some annual school show. And off we went. To this wonderful planet of aliens, with a single suction tipped snout in the middle of their head for a mouth, and some extreme body structure, etc. The comic story was chock-a-block full of weird chemical and mathematical names for aliens and places and events. And we were so thrilled with the outcome that we were expecting Hollywood to come a-knocking. They did knock indeed.. the school principal and the teachers, that is. To bring us back to reality :) Of course, we were their favorite students, and they just let us down gently saying, 'We thought of something else for the filler…'

So you see, I'm not new to these big grand dreams of getting published... Or a screenplay for the next big sarcastic/slap-stick comedy... Or a column a la Dave Barry or Art Buchwald.. Or, of course, the "In" thing these days.. Fantasy.

On a side note, I hit a 100 posts! Oh my.

Red, Amber and Green

I've had my eye on this fallen stop-light for a few days now. Really. I don't know how it got to the pavement on the corner of Peterson and Ridge, but it is there alright. Maybe some oversize truck brought it down, or it just fell off during a patch of bad weather. Like a ripe mango from a tree! All I care is that it has been laying there for the last few days, and my hands are itching to just cart it off. Imagine how cool it would look as an art-form in the apartment. Funky chic anyone? I can see myself lugging this giant stop-light that is about almost shoulder height, plopping it in the backseat and driving off like a petty thief!

At this point, I am starting to sound pretty strange to myself. And, needless to say, B continues to find me 'amusing'. Every time he thinks he knows me, I come up with something like this. Endearing, he says. Who am I to complain ;)

I am, however, not one of those pack-rats. I don't horde things that I don't need, or cling to petals, leaves, tattered paper, bottle caps, coins and the likes. I just cannot help that I have an artistic view of things, and can see the most mundane or weird things fit into an art-scheme. Like the little glass vase I have at home filled, 'packed' rather, with wine bottle corks from my friends. Of all shapes and sizes. That is the kind of junkie I am. After all, I'm the proud winner of a number of 'Junk-Art' competitions in my school days. Ah, such good times - trying to come up with something to depict very high-school-y themes like 'Unity in Diversity', 'India at 50', 'Modern Day Marvels' and the like.. with a shredded reams of paper, fruit peels, leaves, mud, bottle caps, straws, bits of glass, bangles.. you get the picture, yes?

For now, all I can do is reminisce about those days and dream on about the stop-light-that-could've-been-my-decor. I can hear it whispering.. 'I know you want me'!

Of strategies, scraped knees and air refills.

Dee is a walking-talking-rep for the 'Ooh, Aah, Ouch' ad. Iodex, remember? In case you're wondering - I'm writing in the third person, given my aversion to reading too many first-person narratives in several books recently.

Ok, she was on the track team at school. She has great stamina to last 2-3 hours solo on stage. And she is a trooper on all these nature trails and hikes.. minus the camping. But, if you know her REAL well, you should've noticed that she cannot catch anything for nuts. She is one of those people with the built in reflex to dodge things naturally. Makes for a hilarious team-mate at volleyball and the likes. But makes her ideal to last through elimination rounds at paintball.

So Dee is in total war spirit mode, gathers some troops, and is the leader of one of the teams. And of course, B is on the other team. Talk about Mr&Mrs Smith! Anyhow, her team won only one out of 7 games. Why, you ask? Because she kept getting shot at. BY TRAITORS. But the adrenaline kept her going all day. However, the minute she got home after the one hour drive, she started groaning.

Now B, as you know, finds this amusing. Apparently, she AMUSES him. While he was all set to see her weasel out after one round or two.. while he was waiting for her to throw in the towel and start complaining.. there she was, out on that rustic field - strategizing the bejesus out of the opponents. A few classy moves and she ALMOST won. Dee was pretty sneaky, and pulled out her complete arsenal of moves in the trenches to stay alive. But, of course, B finds that 'cute', and she continues to 'amuse' him.

In that one last game, Dee was almost the last man standing.. almost. Until her stupid gun ran out of air. And she happened to be the only one that did not refill her air cartridge thinking that it would last her one more game. Just great.

All said and done, it was a good day. And B is still grovelling about the quarter-sized bruise/lump on Dee's knee where he shot her.. at close range.. with 10 seconds to go for her to win.. Happy Mother's Day!