April 21, 2012

In the words of Liz Lemon, "I want to go to there."

I love food.

Photos of food make me want it. Movies make me want it. The smell of popcorn makes me want it.

My dreams are mostly in black and white but when there's food involved, they're in brilliant technicolour.

If I eat a bad sandwich, I want two good ones to make up for it - and fast.

If I'm stuffed at the end of my meal, but the dessert looks even half-decent, I eat that too.

I eat when I'm happy.

And when I'm unhappy.

When I'm relaxed.

And when I'm stressed.

There are few better things in life than the base of a samosa.

Fruit is not dessert. Fruit is the unhappy man's substitute for dessert.

...And he's unhappy because of his choices, not his circumstances.

Coffee is good. Coffee with chocolate in it is better.

I'd kiss breakfast if I could. As it turns out, you can't, so I content myself with eating it very fast or very slow (depending on my hunger) and taking seconds. And thirds.

And listen up, naysayers - if food was meant to nourish only the body, my soul would have died long ago.

*dramatic exit*

April 01, 2012

Nostalgia, And Its Undoing

The sad thing about life is that no one seems to make movies like Kabhi Haan Kabhi Naa any more. Or, for that matter, Jo Jeeta Wohi Sikandar.

(Because YRF can start a whole youth-films division and churn out desi versions of John Tucker Must Die, but if you want to see true teenage confusion and angst, pliss refer to the above movies.)

There's a slew of great sitcoms, but they're all stereotypical while trying to be politically correct. There's no Seinfeld any more.

The Harry Potter series is over. Enid Blyton is long gone.

People my age are getting engaged and married.

They're doing it willingly.

In these uncertain times, we look to characters from our childhood to bob up, and reassure us. Baba Sehgal wanted to do just that.

But he ended up making Praji Kunjam Kunjam Control.

Cannot describe. Must watch.