Popagandhi

Z: What’re you doing now honey?

Me: Studying cleavages.

Z: Eh?

Me: No, not that kind I wish I could � rather, Seymour Lipset’s cleavage structures. Alas.

At the charity event last night in aid of the Straits Times Pocket Money fund (how apt: the theme was “Bollywood”), watching the high society do their part for the community (by bidding for persian carpets, jewellery and silk and other things), I sat in my corner, listening, stoning.

The opening bid for an “authentic carpet in the tradition of the nomads of ancient Persia” was $15 000. For this, and every resulting bid for other items, I found myself converting the amounts to figures I could understand in order to get a sense of how much they really were.

“What camera setup do you think $15 000 could get us?” I asked my colleague.

“A Nikon D2X, ands lots more lenses.” The Nikon men said.

Tribal alliances were clearly setting in.

“Hmm. I’d just go for a Canon 5D with one L lens. That’s the max I need. Then use the remainder for a Leica M6.“

On the bright side, I got to eat a hell lot of Mysore mutton, Lana cakes and gulab jamuns, which can never be a bad thing.

I was re-reading Beckett’s Endgame, and it struck me how Nell and Nagg bear such striking resemblance to Z and I, though I’m not sure why.

Nell: I am going to leave you.

Nagg: Could you give me a scratch before you go?

Nell: No. (pause) Where?

So it’s the end of term, with one week for self-study, and another for the final exams. Contrary to previous expectations, there will be no Laos, not even Thailand, this break. Instead I have resolved to work on devoting my full attention to acquiring two sets of skills � obtaining my motorcycle license (no dyke on bike here; dyke on scooter, maybe), and cooking. I’m hoping to pilot a television series, tentatively named “The Scootering Chef”. Though by most optimistic estimates, “The Pottering Chef” is more likely. You see, people have so much faith in my innate culinary abilities (eating excluded), that family members used to pay me $10 for each edible item I produced in home economics class, and friends all helpfully point out the fact that living next to a hospital has to be a sign.. the Significant Other, however, still thinks I have a good shot at producing an edible appam or idli or poori. So how can I disappoint? I hope to do well at jhinga biryani too.