Monthly Archives: September 2015


I was really thinking of writing something along this line, and this post said everything I wanted to say, and much more.


Following the release of the first few Harry Potter novels the film industry quickly jumped on the bandwagon, conjuring up eight movies, a theme park and a merchandising extravaganza to match Star Wars.

Each film was an event, and with the exception of the final two instalments, woefully incomplete.

In all fairness, the confines of the medium should be taken into account. To recreate every scene and aspect of JK Rowling’s novels verbatim for the big screen would be unwieldly and torturous: even the biggest Harry Potter diehard would be hard-pressed to sit in a cinema for fifteen hours without suffering severe fatigue or distraction.

Which is exactly why the medium never suited it. It may have been captivating to see the beloved characters reimagined on the big screen, but there was absolutely no way that any single film could do justice to the complexity of the novels and its multitude…

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Tryst with Paneer

Meet Katniss Everdeen, the girl on fire.

Now meet me, the girl who puked in a holy shrine.

Yeah, life sucks.

Now, just to clarify, I did not puke because of binge-drinking on alcohol. I puked because that day, at a restaurant, I had this sudden urge to become a vegetarian.

I ordered paneer makhni. That’s basically cottage cheese in gravy with lots of butter. Absolutely delicious. Meat-loving me ordered it for a change. And it was just my luck that their paneer was probably a century old.  I began to feel nauseous almost immediately after the the first mouthful but since I was too stubborn to admit defeat and succumb to the pull of chicken-tikka  being devoured by my brother, I persevered.

I succumbed alright. I succumbed to  food poisoning.

See, I went to pray at this shrine around half an hour after lunch. Barely lasted ten steps into the sanctum sanctorum, before I unleashed the contents of my stomach right there. In full view of every single person present there.

Mommy darling, who is a bit superstitious when it comes to these things, said that God had helped me by making me puke out the bad food. I guess that is one way of looking at it. At that moment, however, I was just too embarrassed. You see, I did not stop after the first expulsion. I had to puke my way to the nearest basin.

Not to mention the fact that my favorite Bossini T-shirt had been irrevocably spoilt forever.

To all those who feel  embarrassed when adults recount their childhood antics at the loudest possible decibel level, trust me, you haven’t known real embarrassment. Real embarrassment is when you visit the shrine one full year after said incident, and the conversation with a shrine authority who is friends with your family goes like this:

Mom: I hope you haven’t forgotten us. I know our family hasn’t been able to visit in some time.

Guy: Oh no, I haven’t. (looking at me) She’s the one who puked that day, right?

Now that’s embarrassment.

P.S. Two years later, I decided to order a hariyali biryani(rice with spinach and fenugreek)  so that some veggies would enter my system.

My bro had the chicken.

I had food poisoning.

I think I’m going to stick to meat from now on.