I've been hitting a rough creative patch lately, thanks to the economic and political situation and the fact that my pants are getting tighter.
They are not supposed to do that. They are supposed to see their owner diligently sweat it out in the gym and get looser. But do you think pants would have the decency to do something like that? Not on your life.
They get tighter, prompting our wife to laugh derisively and beg us to wear a belt lest our buttons burst out and injure someone. Yes, our wife can be a biting wit sometimes. Not that she doesn't let her hair down. She tends to do that on Sundays.
You see, our Sundays tend to be pretty laid back. Extremely laid back, to be precise. People frequently come to our house on Sunday mornings and hastily step out, thinking that they had accidentally entered a municipal corporation office. Ha ha. That was a joke. Right. This is the level of humor I touch when I am well fed.
For I ate what must be the most calorie filled sandwich in the world. This was at a place called "Dhiraj", a roadside stall outside Mithibai College in Juhu, an institution known for its high hemlines and low IQs. My partners in crime were, apart from my wife Sheela, cousin M.
Sheela is normally the kind of person who will say 'no' to an extra lettuce leaf, even on Sundays, and add "I think Naren's had enough, too".
I was thus pleasantly surprised to find her going hammer and tongs at the said sandwich. Which is because it is AWESOMELY delicious. It is also very large. It is made from three enormous triangular bread slices, the likes of which I've never seen before. The size of J-lo's panties, would be my guess.
The chief ingredients are boiled potatoes, cucumber and tomato (to impart the necessary vitamins, I think), grated cheese and butter, the last named ingredients liberally utilized. The entire assembly is toasted and served with a generous helping of super spicy green chutney.
Well, we ordered three of these. They were cut by the executive chef into seven pieces each. Sheela and cousin M could eat no more than 4 pieces each, leaving me with an extra 6 in addition to my 7. I am happy to report that I polished off everything.
For some people, heaven is a place with 72 virgins per inhabitant. For me heaven is a parking spot outside Dhiraj, an empty stomach and low triglycerides.
What was I saying? Ah yes, the economic and political situation. You know, I am worried. Our neighbour Pakistan is getting seriously unstable. Our politicians are making a complete pig's breakfast out of the pre-election horse trading. S&P is downgrading India to below investment level. Only our tabloid newspapers are any good. With all this stuff happening, the question that occurs to them foremost is "Is Angelina Jolie Pregnant?". Sheela of course see's nothing wrong with asking that. "Is she?" she asked me, to which I shamefacedly had to admit I did not know the answer.