Pak-pak-pak-pak-Pakkak!!!!

And now, since we have a pandemic amongst us, no more chicken makkhanwala. No more chicken tangdi at Bade Miya.

And no more chicken tandoori in Chembur Camp. And no more Chicken Shredded Poutine (pronounced "foo-tay-ne") in Mocha's. And no more chicken steaks and no chicken legs, and no chicken mixed fried rice and no more chicken mixed steamed hakka noodles with boiled chicken and prawns and MSG sprinkled upar-se from our local Chinese thele-wala.

And goodbye to chicken desi and broiler and english by the kilo, and chicken curry, and chicken stroganoff and chicken masala and chicken burgers at Mcdonalds and no more chicken kadhai at Khyber.

And tata to Venky's Chicken-in-Minutes and Godrej Chicken, and Maggi's Chicken Clear Soup, and Knorr's Sweet Corn Chicken Soup.

And no more Chicken Luncheon Meat, and no more Chicken Loaf, and no Chicken Shashlik at Kobe's or at Yoko's.

And no more saying "Murga ban" to NCC cadets, and no more cocks on the weatherpanes, and no more squawking chickens in dirty chicken trucks and no more chickens crossing the road "simbly" or "to reach the other side" or "to cross over" or any such jokes. And no more business for Narayan Rane. No more chicken business at any rate.

And since there are no chickens, there can not be eggs too. No andelal eggathons, and no eight annas hard-boiled eggs and soft-boiled eggs, and no eggcups, and no egg-white omlettes and no sunny-side-up and no kheema ghotala and no more midnight egg-bhurji opp Dadar station and no more pudding in Kyaani's and no more egg pastries and no more "egging on" people and no more spoilt eggs.

And the goats are bleating. And the pigs are squealing. And the fish are even more slippery than ever. And the prawns and the crabs and the lobsters are biting the hand that catches them more than ever. And those who live, but for a spinal cord and a nervous system - those who grow tall and short and underground and above it will get eaten with disdain and regret.

Until a virus comes along that makes them all stars of the day. And we have to subsist on pills.

utekkare,

pranay

The World is flat. Mind it!

lying down, in response to a migraine
close my eyes to prevent them from descending down to my knees;
bend them quickly. tilt your head up, watch your sweat pour down.
pull in your soggy tummy, and see the fat rearrange itself.
clench your jaws, or your teeth will fall off.
one by one.
run your hair through your hair. no, wait. on second thoughts, dont. its all the hair you have left.
pull your right earlobe to look happy.
now look what you've gone and done. your right one, not your left. so thats why you look like an ass.
from the Rann of Kutch. no, i dont know why the kutchie rann. maybe because kutches win mutches.
get up slowly or your brain will go into shock because of newton's 1st law - persistence of inertia.
and yes, the world is round. hold on tight. or you might just slip into the mariana trench one fine day.
hey, dont con me into this. I'm just a goldfish. I live in a round bowl all day. and sometimes at night too. i dont remember yesterday. that was today wasnt it?
staring at the stars. twinkling fireflies that dwindle not.
scratch your head. maybe it's lice. maybe it's an itch. maybe your scalp is trying to feel your finger up. naughty scalp.
slap your right knee. was that the bad one? no, its the left knee. yes, my dear mutating mosquitoes, come and feast on the most vulnerable knee in my body...
balderdash to you, but infinitely intelligent conversation i am capable of.
complete coherence and sanity.
but not now. later.

utekkare,

pranay