[SenorJalapeno]

Healer

[SenorJalapeno]

Lol Boo. Neither. If I were a journalist, newspapers would spontaneously combust either in pain or for pride. As to what I do…erm…I help those who cannot help themselves. Now, what I would really love to do is find myself in the same realm as Rani Mukerji, and pine away in the inevitable impossibility of anything more than a furtive glance and frenetic heartbeat. God! Beautiful women are such a pain. Cannot ignore them, and most certainly cannot stomach the idea of being ignored by them.

[SenorJalapeno]

A friend of mine recently celebrated her birthday and her children decided to throw a surprise birthday party with an Indian theme. I was asked to help with the food and part of the festivities. We decided to have a couple of Indian curries, chutneys, and 'please don't forget the flat bread.' We watched Kuch Kuch Hota Hai with Sub-titles that had some new words hitherto never found in any English dictionary.

After being fed-up with curried chicken with apricots and almonds, prawns soaked in wine and sauteed with Japanese pears, served on sizzling plates with saffron rice, we lounged about. Since, I was the only Indian, naturally, all questions pertaining to India were cast in my direction. I cannot remember the last time I waxed eloquent about my people and my nation.

Sad, but true, that I was often given to gloating of my travels to places outside of India. However, seeing my friends devouring my memories with rapt attention at once made me delirious and disgusted. I was asked to demonstrate 'Kabaddi,' and fortunately none asked me about Cricket or we would have been there till we all became permanent members of the local geriatric convention.

After numerous conversations each orbiting around something Indian that ended not too long before dawn, I took the long short-cut to home. I needed more time to savor the sensation as it simmered in my soul, each delicate yet distinct memory seeping into the woof and warp of the tapestry of my life. I must have looked a comic figure- what with my pseudo-turban conjured out of a St. Michael's scarf, bare feet, sandals in hand, humming Phoolon Ka Taaron Ka- but I could have cared less. My feet may have ambled upon foreign soil but my heart was home.

[SenorJalapeno]

Lol @ Calm Down Woman!

[SenorJalapeno]

If I weren't afraid, I'd give in to my friends' request and dance to Maahi Ve. Fact is I am afraid I would look like I was in the throes of an epileptic fit.

PS: As for Rani Mukerji, there is a sizeable group of men where I live that would perhaps slaughter each other for a stolen moment beside her. I keep staring at her pictures in desire that when my life 'flashes' past just before I die, her face would linger a while and relieve me of whatever regrets I may have accumulated in life. Good heavens! She is absolutely gorgeous. Erm…sorry I could not help myself. Lol.

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