It's a matter of life and death being on the front right side of an auto; today I got stuck with an extremely concerned dadu who had managed to notice the same thing as me, Poncha mama's jilipis have this strange crust on them in the evening, coagulated ghee and the sadness of no one finding them desirable enough to eat. It's freaky that a dadu should notice the same thing as me, was Sherlock Holmes a dadu? Hercule Poirot undoubtably was, so was Perry Mason I guess. It's still strange that my eyes are eighty years old. No wait, I also noticed that the bhelpuri wala outside gate no.4 is different. This is unacceptable. Also, the rubbish below the comp. lit ledge has decreased, this is really a very sad thing to be writing about. But one's gotta do something. Stick a butterfly pin in my eye, I will never find a reason to die.

My grandma's watching Idea Star Singer or something on Asianet. I remember we visited Kerala when the finals of the show were on in 2008. We didn't get our food at a restaurant for nearly an hour because everyone, the proprietor the waitors the cooks even, all of them gathered around a little tv in the dining area and bickered about who the winner would be. It's creepy because the judges catch every wrong tone you sing and then show you how it should be done. Chicken 65 eventually arrived and the guy in charge still went on about why his favourite wouldn't win. It's nice that there's still passion around, but really?