Last weekend I chanced upon a movie where a woman lands in Tuscany
and buys an old ancestral villa. I fell in love with the place. While earlier I ranted about Cyprus, now I can't stop talking about
Tuscany. Yesterday I read this book which also happened to be based in Tuscany. Isn't this fate pointing out that I am somehow meant to be there? (Sigh) Instead of all that fate has ordained for me:) (some hunky Leonardo Fortinari owning dozens of vineyards) , I am waiting for an interview with an author.
That brings me back to reality. Thump.
Have to do some research before I go for the interview. Sex, sex, sex... that is all there is to Tejpal's The Alchemy of Desire. It has everything from homosexuality to heterosexuality to threesomes to what not. Here is what a reviewer says about the book : "The title at first sounds overweeningly pretentious. Till, about halfway through the book, you realise it describes exactly what the book is about." And this is what I thought after I was over with it. "A treatise on the subject: the Indian Penile Code" - the reviewer couldn't have echoed my thoughts better.
The only part that I identified with in the book is the description of the hill estate of Jeolikote. Apparently the author owns the place. They also say he's bought it with the money that he wasn't paying his people at Tehelka.
Wonder what I will say when he asks me, "So how did you like the book?" I will probably have to lie through my teeth or put on a straight face and ask him why he's so obsessed with sex. The worst part is that when I try to lie, a slow grin creeps in and it is so so obvious.
Damn, I just got a call from E. I forgot to switch off the pump. This is the nth time that it has happened between our earlier house and this one. Really I think I will stop switching it on. S and E are surely cursing me. Ok promise, it won't happen again guys :)
A friend from college messaged me that he's packing for a trekking trip to Sandakphu. And just a month back, he had gone trekking to some Go lala place in Sikkim. Some guys just have it all. The only place I ever trek to, I realise, is the nearest shopping mall.
My parents are on their eternal search for the guy of my dreams, or
should I say theirs. Every time they meet the parents of some guy (he is usually someone in Switzerland or Manchester), I get a call. "Mamma, this guy's really nice. He's tall, handsome and goodlooking. Has fantastic prospects. Your horoscopes match perfectly."
The last time they said that they got hold of this chubby
cheeked boy from Chicago. An asshole who advised me that I shouldn't be using the word 'bitch'. "Take it from someone who's lived two long years in America, you can't hold your head high in American society if you say b****," he said.
Sometimes I just can't believe that I will have to go through an
arranged marriage. Really, when did I reach the grand old age of 24, when all my parents can think of is getting me married? Before all the eligible bachelors vanish from the horizon.