I’m in Chennai again. Seems like I do most of my blog-posting when I’m down here. Wonder why. Not as if I spend more time online when at home. Or do I?
Went to a fantastic concert tonight. Jugalbandhi at the Taj Coromandel between Pandit Jasraj and Dr. L. Subramaniam. The dinner afterwards was almost as heavenly. The dessert tables were the (meal’s) highpoint… I managed six different kinds of tarts and a pineapple crepe and a lovely mint parfait. That was obviously after I had done my duty by the main course, devoting myself mainly to a pasta, devilled eggs, idlis and a scrumptious chicken thingie. There were lots more on offer, but I was distracted by the desserts.
One of the serving chefs very kindly went into the nether regions and procured me a recipe for the parfait.
The best thing however was the concert and let us not forget that. The Doc rocks. The violin is my favourite instrument anyway, and he gave his a lovely human voice. That was in the solo. Later, in the jugalbandhi, he took a little time getting into the swing of things but once he got going, he was magnificent.
An interesting thing happened this evening. The dancer Chitralekha was present, looking every bit as dashing as I’m told she was in her youth (I don’t find that hard to believe) and as she passed by Ma, she fingered her aanchal and told her, “Whoever you are, I like your saree very much.” Mum was tickled pink, of course, but her saree was really a lovely one. Salmon pink Sambalpuri with a red and gold border. Unlikely combination but it works.
Am reading Bill Bryson’s ‘Notes from a Small Island’. Have enrolled as a Bryson fan.
Bought Lynn Truss’s “Eats, Shoots and Leaves”. Now am dead scared of punctuation goofups.
And that’s about it. ‘Saarang’ starts on Thursday and so am making and discarding all sorts of plans.
Esha is very busy with her little nephew and niece. Am not seeing much of her, so I’ll try to give her a call sometime. I’m ending with something I wrote about the kids in a mail:
“…have met the cutest male south of the equator. With a mischievous twinkle like that he will break many hearts before he’s done. Yesterday he insisted on tearing my chunni away from me in the most ungentlemanlike fashion and then proceeded to run round and round the room draped in it. Considered photographing him to blackmail in about fifteen years time. Will follow his career with much (auntlike, unfortunately) interest.
His little sister is seven months old and has hair on only one side of her head… ’Nuff said.”