You guessed it. I'm happy. Sharp (and sweet) of you to notice. Let me tell you why.
Mohit Chauhan's singing into my ears words penned by Gulzar. Some I understand, some I don't. But I know them all. The strange rhythms of a graceful, earthy language, further spurred on to dance their strange dance by a music effusive as sunrise, seductive as sunset. And yet another movie on Delhi! Ah, happiness.
It's past two in the morning and I'm writing a post. It can only mean one thing. I've got an internet connection for that most beloved of laptops, The Sexy Beast. He's over two years old and has lost some of his sheen. But now he looks distinguished, war weary and thrillingly familiar. In short, he's yummier than ever.
I just realized that I need not blog from work again. Sigh (a happy one, finally).
Alexander Mccall Smith's latest has been devoured and placed alongwith the rest of my books. My library (or something like it) has finally made its way from Delhi and found its place in Mumbai.
Two more days in this extended weekend that has started so well. And Icecream has a brand new look! Arctic blue and yet warm, like the soul that this blog has preserved, quite independent of me.
And I just know that little Pinkerton, my younger sister, will tell me in a few days that Dev Patel has caught her fancy. I will rejoice at the fact that Ranbir Kapoor has finally been replaced.
I could just sing right now.
Hawa se judd, ada se udd..