Friday, October 29, 2004

Mock-Tale Cocktail

Do those cocktail designers really intend to mean anything when they christen their concotions with extremely fanciful and imaginative names? Or do they just borrow these visually and aurally appealing names from some tourist magazine and then randomly distribute them across their collection of mixed drinks that they believe taste differently from one another?I am inclined towards supporting the latter.

This past weekend, there was a "Caribbean" (visual imagery again) cocktail festival at Zero-G, and R and I were curious to see what this was all about. Add to that R's curiosity about cocktails.

We walked straight into a super-suave waiter at Zero-G who even allowed us to choose the corner we wanted to place ourselves at. Call it great customer care, or simply, empty seats in every corner. We decided to give the benefit of doubt to the waiter, and decided to tip him generously for his politeness. Till this point, everything was fine.

After we placed ourselves at seats of our choice, the same suave waiter decided to pay us a visit to help us decide on the cocktails that he found suited us best. Am not sure if it was a mix of Italian-Tamilian accent, or Spanish-Bihari, but listening to him speak English made me prepare myself for a not-so-perfect evening. And he gave us so many options that HE found it very difficult to choose what drinks we would be ordering. After lot of pondering, HE decided that Caribbean Delight was the best drink for a man, and Arabian Fantasy was the light mix best suited for a non-drinker like R.

Since we are used to the psuedo-democracy having stayed in India all our lives, we decided to agree to whatever he decided. And soon enough we had our drinks placed on our tables. Colorful and photogenic. I started sipping away at my Macho drink, fully expecting a strong "kick" at the end of it. And R, after deliberating whether she should even taste her drink, finaly succumbed to my persuasion.

Our first sips of our respective drinks took us by surprise. I was sipping on a mocktail, or almost. And she was feeling dizzy already. We decided to exchange sips from each other's drinks to make sure our complaints were genuine. And sure enough they were. As common sense would indicate, our drinks must have been exchanged. And so we swapped our drinks and continued till we emptied them.

Now for the finale. Our suave waiter, putting on his charmer avatar, came to our table for the check, and he couldnt resist asking us the obvious question.

" Did you enjoy your drinks sir? Madam?".

R politely suggested that he must have gotten our drinks exchanged, and that she almost fainted sipping the strong drink that he served her . I was also going to add my own piece after she finished. But Mr.Waiter suddenly stopped me, and with an annoyed expression, and a frightening frown on his face, he said

"Are you crazy? Those WERE your drinks that I served. And make no mistake about it".

Whoa! So much for being polite. We just nodded apologetically, and tipped him generously for enlightening us with his mixological knowledge. And silently decided never to vist the place again.

That night R made a vow never to touch alcohol again.
Some wounds cut deep. Real deep!

Thursday, October 28, 2004

The battle of Old Trafford

The invincible Gunners finally came undone at the hands (legs, shoulders etc) of Man U's physical style. How much of the defeat can be attributed to the football, and how much to the referee's decisions, is debatable, depending on which side you support.

Van Nistelrooy's horror tackle makes the verdict even more controversial considering he should not even have been on the pitch to take that spot kick. And Rooney showed one more skill in his already flattering repertoire with that "Oscar" winning dive.

Wenger's boys were surely done in, and football was not one of the reasons for that. Arsenal played the better football, but Man U played the tougher football.

Maybe its a lesson for Wenger that Arsenal should toughen up. Their inability to conquer lesser teams in Europe has also been because of their weakness against tough tackles. Panathanaikos softened the Gunners for their equaliser twice last week.

Manchester United added "injury to insult" over the weekend. Wenger may accuse the opposition for not having played the game in the right spirit, but at the end of the day, nothing succeeds like success.

Tuesday, October 19, 2004


Ever wondered about the state of traffic in Bangalore? I did, and it didnt look good at all. And here's why.

While driving to office this morning, through the numerous traffic congestions , I ended up stopping at most signals, like always. Blame it on my habit of seeing red at everyone and everything. Gimme red anyday! Anyways, at one of these many signals, I had, like a law abiding citizen, stopped due to the signal being red.

As soon as the traffic on the perpendicular direction subsided a bit, the man on the scooter right next to me with a 10 year old son riding pillion, vroomed out of the blocks, through the red signal, and sped away, safely from the traffic and the lazy traffic constable monitoring the signal. The sight of his son, triumphantly waving at us foolish people who were still waiting for the signal to turn green while his dad had so easily sped out of it was a revelation. His joy knew no bounds!

With fathers like that setting such wrong examples to their impressionable kids about the futility of adhering to traffic rules, no wonder the kids these days dont really care much about jumping a signal.
Wanna be cool? Break a traffic rule!

What is the use improving roads, if people just dont want to follow rules? The traffic conditions in our city is only going to get worse when these inspired kids follow in their illustrous parents' footsteps. I shudder to think of even venturing onto these roads.
Anyone knows how much a helicopter's gonna cost?

Monday, October 11, 2004

Nostalgic musings

Been a while since I penned any thoughts in here. Haven't been able to squeeze in any time for blogging of late. And today, I stumbled across a few rediff blogs and got "inspired" by some of them for their sheer nostalgic content. As for me, nostalgia has always been a favorite activity whenever I stumble across any artefact from my past.
Just a couple of weeks ago, I was clearing my attic, and had to throw away my text books from high school. And that triggered off a huge wave of nostalgia, thinking about those great times that I had in St.Paul's. Those friends, the crushes, the intense rivalry with Deepak to secure the 3rd rank (the first 2 were never up for grabs, thanks to Rohini and Janhavi), and the thrill of never having lost out in that rivalry ever, etc. Kids these days are missing out on the kind of innocent fun that our generation was lucky to have had. The time when a monthly allowance of Rs.50 was a princely amount, and was enough to actually add to my already bulging savings. That despite the almost daily indulgence in "Dil Kush" at Krishna Bakery. Today's kids would probably look at Rs.50 as "one day at coffee day" money.
Some of the best memories from my high school:
1."Dil Kush" at Krishna Bakery
2. Riding doubles with Siddha on my Ranger
3. Playing leather ball cricket every evening on matted wickets, and captaining the school team.
4. Playing football against the next section, and always squandering the four goal first half lead due to a 7 goal second half onslaught due to our defenders insisting that they want to come forward and score a few goals too, and consequentially, leave the goal unguarded.
5.Siddha's feminine voice
6. Deepak's intense jealousy towards me for outscoring him in every test.
7. The school excursions, and the crushes that we would inevitably pick up on those excursions due to the extended hours of drooling at them.
8. The eventful squabbles and controversies that would surface after every excursion, and my peace-maker role.
9. Crushed crushes (sigh!)
10. Results from the 10th ICSE exams, and the euphoria that came along with it. And yes, managing to come on top again in the rivalry with Deep.
I better stop before I get misty eyed , overcome by nostalgia. School days are the best days. Period.