How Sardar Montek Singh Boob got his Kirpan zipped, sealed and Fedexed.

Yes. I finally got it. Cooking, that is, and yes. The title is 'inspired' by the book 'How Opal Mehta got her gujju back', or something like that.

Anyway, coming to the cooking part, the secret of cooking, like everything else in this nonsensical parody called life, is not to give a damn and throw things into the frying pan with gusto. I made sambar and delicious puliogare on Sunday. Having said that, I think the basic difference between men and women is that men are mathematical and analytical while women don't give a damn when it comes to the kitchen. Or maybe it’s true everywhere else too.
So, QED.

I was actually planning to discuss something but I have forgotten about it now. Oh yes, I remember. Yeah, I wanted to tell you that I am planning to go for a hair transplant. You see, I was born with a rather large forehead which was mistaken for my pate during my formative years. You might think nothing of it but imagine if you and Brad Pitt were being made the same day, you and Brad are given two different nationalities so that people on earth don't get confused, and then, it happens. God forgets to give you enough hair.

Brad Pitt ends up being famous and is voted as the sexiest man alive, while you spend your days brooding in a desolate, lonely place, with just one car and some JD and some job. How would you feel? I mean, think about it from the shopkeepers point of view.

Now, for those of you who are about to argue about me and Brad not being created the same day, remember Roark.

"My dear boy, who would let you build these loony structures?"

"That's not the point sir, the point is, who wouldn't?"

(Or something like that.)

Anyway, I just realised that one year is up. Yup, it was July 25th, 2007. If in case that someone reads this, I am alive. I cant forget five years of my life. So I do tend to think of those years sometimes.

Backing up to the business of life, I recently also realised that I feel claustrophobic in open spaces and very lonely in crowds. Does that mean I am an alien or all the rest of you are hiding something from me?

Lastly, proof that Satan exists - MONDAY.