So I find myself like I do once every year or two, in the Phoenix Mills mall-o-rama. CRAVING coffee. And not your lame triple-tall-non-fat-shot-of-organic-something-caramel-latte coffee. Nescafe - like those Rs. 10-15 cups of chickory-laden, regular, Indian coffee. But there's none to be found. Why? Because there's McDonalds coffee, and Barista coffee, and Costa coffee. But no regular coffee. And Sahil, you're no help, by the way. No help at all. Put down those Marks and Spencer trousers. You're not going to buy them anyway.
Oh yeah, we did emerge outta there having bought the same shirt. Great shirt, btw. Yes, I do say so. Myself. Yes.
Fast forward an hour or three. Siddharth (henceforth known as The Bearded One) and Lahar pick us up in a cab, and we spend what seems like an hour in a super heated cab, in horrid Bombay traffic, with the blazing hot WINTER Sun shining down upon us. The heat from the taxi's radiator makes it worse for the guy in the front seat. Me. Note. To. Self. Yet again.
Oh. Sardar Pau Bhaji. Done. Amul Butter Assimilation is now complete. Congratulations! You have moved six months closer to a massive myochardial infarction.
Saw a cool part of Bombay near Opera House. Khau galli + Diamond market. A crazy number of Gujju men, young and old, crowding the streets, just talking. Apparently that's what happens around 4pm when the markets closed. Don't recommend going there just to visit. If you do happen to be in the area... still, go see something else.
Dinner at Maami's house. Got to see Paul & Kavita again. Always good to see Maami.
My mom made pav bhaji yesterday! Not quite so much ghee in it...
ReplyDeleteHaha. They basically sliced off half the Amul butter slab and let it lay in the bhaji. We felt a little disgusting after we finished :)
ReplyDelete