Wednesday, September 30, 2009
Beautiful Stranger
There's a boy in Bombay i flirt with. Online. On Facebook. He's a... ummm... 'friend', you see.

He's a cute boy. Very sweet and smart. Almost shy. Except when he tells me he's come out of the shower. Naked. And that he's got a very sizable... ummmm.... 'tool'.

We talk about random things.

His mixed heritage. (Yes, he's an CBCD - Canadian Born Confused Desi.) The extra pounds I put on in Amreeka. My fabulously svelte new figure. (Thanks to yogurt, instead of ice cream.) Sex. Love. And rock 'n' roll. (Fine, not rock 'n' roll that much.) He bemoans the fact that he's single in the big, bad city I love to distraction. And it brings back memories of how I used to gripe and groan about much the same thing when I lived there. (But, no, let's not go down that road again now.) I tell him (in quite a long-winded, flirty way) that I find him terribly handsome. Tall, dark and handsome, to be precise. He moans that the men in Bombay seem to prefer gora Punjabi braawny hunks, with buns of steel and brains of rust. I tell myself (and him, albeit in that long-winded, flirty way) that if we were in the same city, I'd probably jump him.

That's when he reminds me: Don't you have a boyfriend?

Ummm... yes. That's why flirting with a handsome (tall, dark, etc.) stranger/'friend' is so much fun.

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Saturday, September 26, 2009
Passion Fruit
Ten minutes ago, I was in the shower and thinking about that big tub of strawberry yogurt ("creamy strawberry", the label announces) in the refrigerator, lying unopened since I'd bought the damn thing 3 weeks ago. A late-night blog post, instead of completing the Human Subjects Research Board test module, was the perfect occasion to say hello to it, I decided.

Lapping up yogurt in the dead of night, 3.15 a.m. to be exact, and I'm pretty sure I won't be waking up before noon. Suddenly, it's last year all over. Or perhaps, even earlier. It's as if the summer never existed. Nor does the window right over my bed, apparently, which always used to aim a sunbeam unerringly at my eyes. I've learnt to ignore it, it seems. And so I live the life of a vampire.

O, yes, it ties back to the 'Dracula' vintage movie posters framed atop my bed, its crazy lettering proclaiming: The strangest passion the world has ever known! And yes, he's chasing a group of panic-stricken men below the lettering. Of course I had to buy the poster as soon as I saw it!

Only, instead of blood or men, I get my strawberry yogurt. Mmmm.... creamy. :)