THE GRASS IS GREENER

My colleagues were distraught over losing to the Kiwis (in a 20-20 match). I secretly swooned. A recent article on Rediff about women's cricket received THE MOST regressive responses on how women's cricket is completely pointless. "Let this m&&&&&&rs lose!," I said.

MATCH

D is popping down this weekend and we plan to hang out. She is half-Peruvian and half-German, and maybe, the Spanish roots explain the two very opposite sides to her persona that manifest in different ways.

Initially, she comes across as a wee bit frosty, even sterile. And then when she get comfy with you, you get to see affection and a generous dose of quirkiness. Her skin tone is caucasian, but her hair is a massive bob of curls.

I'm all for inter-racial matches, because the results are just exquisite. This whole Indian-marries-Indian scenario is just WAY to clannish!

Mumbai to NOida

So, the big move has put an end to my singing days. The only singing I do these days is in the bathroom, or rather before I step into ze shower.

The old geezer takes it's own sweet time (how very Dilli of it) to heat things up, and in the interim the laptop blares and I sing along, and even get theatrical about it, courtesy all the space and the solitude, which allows one to display, completely eccentric behaviour, sans any quizzical brows being raised.

Phew!