Yikes, now they are demanding the Kohinoor back. What if the Brits demanded all the stuff they built back from us? We'd have to dismantle legendary things like Howrah Bridge and pack it off among other things, thus depriving future generation of Bongs to enjoy the priceless joke, 'I'm enjoyeeng the breej on the breeze'. Though must say, good of Cameron to admit that Brit museums would empty out in a flash if they started to give our antiques back. At least he was being honest. As for the Kohinoor, remember standing in queue to see it at the Tower Museum and coming back utterly disappointed. It looked lost in the hideous purple (or is it blue, can't be bothered to google) crown and much much smaller than expected. Instead what moved me and made me want to write patriotic comments was Tipu Sultan's automated tiger at Victoria and Albert museum. Was feeling patriotic enough to write 'Wapas Karo' type stuff in the Visitor's Book while going out. Have no idea why, perhaps it's because I devotedly watched The Sword of Tipu Sultan (Had strange taste in those days), whereas nobody ever made a serial on the Kohinoor diamond. That figures.

Random

It's one of those days when I have to key in 2000 words by tomorrow which means I get going tonight. True to tradition have written only 20 words so far and have spent the last hour watching The World's Extreme Restrooms on TV and finding things like http://recipes.bbclifestyle.com/. Given that I drive myself and the girl who helps me around at home batty wondering what to cook everyday I sure need this. Though I wish they had a section on India too. Much as we love Seafood pasta and Summer couscous salad, a life without dal really isn't sustainable for too long. At least in this household. Off to watch Castle on Star World now. The husband is away on work and the son is asleep and though the double decker words need to be written, procrastination is too long a warning to remember!
Oh and by the way finally found a copy of Embroideries by Marjane Satrapi at Blossoms. See that's what I love about Blossoms. The good children at Landmark would ask you to pronounce Satrapi five times as you resisted the urge to type the name yourself and save them the trouble of remembering their alphabets. They'd then possibly announce they're out of copies or disappear in the pretext of finding the book. At Blossoms, you simply park yourself on the ground floor, point to a copy of Persepolis and ask in a rather distracted manner if they have that 'book called embroideries' by her and it materialises like magic in two minutes. Neat haan?

The FREE in freelancer

In the two and half years that I have been working on my own, on and off, I've realized that being a freelancer is a good way to make many people show their asli side to you. For instance, if I'm working on a story for a well known publication, there are people who'll fall all over themselves to be available at the oddest of hours, get themselves shot at their own expense (with a camera of course) and even proclaim anytime lunch and undying friendship. Call them back the next time with the name of an obscure journal and suddenly they'll develop every imaginable block from network problems to nerve disorders.

There's also the Impatient Editor. She'll ask you to send in ideas at the speed of light and then disappear from your inbox forever. At some point, she will magically surface to demand the story that she had apparently forgotten about. In a few hour's time. Do remember however NEVER EVER to ask where the cheque is, if you do not wish to be vilified by her forever. So what if you spent 500 bucks one way on the cab to Yelahanka?

The editor is only beatable by the Sweet Talker, though both share a common trait. The aversion to all things monetary. You'll end up scrutinizing boring copy for sweet talker late into the night because he wants it "just looked into" as a favour. Sucker that you are, you'll also fine tune his press relase and in the end rewrite whatever is there in it because you cannot bear to edit every word written by the pre-teens he calls his PR girls. After you've got circles dark enough to qualify for the smoky eyes look, talker will thank you profusely, put his tail between his legs and run. What if you turn into a cheapskate and ask him to pay you whatever it was all worth? Money talk is so non classy, isn't it sweetheart? And you are a FREElancer remember? The free part is ingrained in your ahem...designation.

How to feel good about yourself...

Step 1: Visit a parlour. Ideally when your eyebrows start taking a Frida Kahlosque shape and your nose has more blackheads than skin. Or when you are almost there. Can guarantee you'll positively feel like something the cat dragged in once the beautician's through with you. Verbally through that is.

Step 2: Follow this up with a visit to the dentist. This will save you the trouble of having to sort and select through 20 different kinds of toothpaste at the shopping mart on your next grocery hunt. Why waste money on microgranules and minty flavors when your all you have is yellow, uneven, cavity infested teeth?

Just finished watching Revolutionary Road. Fabulous, immaculate and disturbing, everything about it. Don't miss.

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'Ány vices?'asked the doctor.

'Depends on what you mean by vice,' I snapped, wishing for a moment I could add smoking to the vice list that included drinking. What else should we add when faced with questions like these? White lies, jealousy, judgemental...?

Questions like these always throw me off balance. They make me wonder how an educated person could think these up with a straight face. This is the second doctor to ask me the vice question and it always surprises me how casually it is asked. To me, it implies that the good doctor already has some assumptions deep-rooted way inside her mind when it comes to the word. I once gambled in Goa, I'm tempted to reply. Does it count as vice as the thrill of winning/losing huge amounts of money probably played yo-yo with my blood pressure? Sadly, such people usually do not possess a sense of humour and my deep and searching questions just stay where they are. Inside. The vice question however, rates way up there when it comes to the weird questions list. 'What's your caste?' being the other all time favourite.