boi mela

We went to the book fair on Saturday. As is wont to happen, we had a bit of a drama before that. As he had to go to office to complete something, we planned to go after he came back. He got stuck at work – i waited, fretted, read and promptly went off to sleep. He came back almost one hour late. i was pissed off – he tried to “manawo” me, i refused to be pacified. And then he got pissed off and i tried to placate him –which i am really bad at. In the end, we made up and went to bury the hatchet amongst books! This one incident made me realize that i am not a very understanding person and that i seem to go out of my way hunting for a fight. i am a spiteful person when things don’t go my way – i guess i am poor at dealing with disappointments.

i bought 6 books – five of them by Indian authors and one by Garcia (One hundred years of solitude –to make up for the copy i lost in SFO). i have now about a dozen unread books which makes me very happy. It was too crowded, i mean the fair, and i was feeling too tired to visit all the stalls. So we just went to penguin, Oxford, Rupa and some two other stalls. He being not much of a book lover just browsed while i scurried about sniffing at books.

And he got a much needed haircut. i don’t know why but last year, he decided he wanted to grow his hair long. i don’t like guys with long hair. But since it is his hair and all that, i refrained from saying anything except maybe the once-in-a-blue-moon wistfully curious question “are you not going to cut your hair?” His hair seems stunted – it seems to stay the same length as it was 3 months back. And it seems to have a mind of its own, curling this way and that way. It was all i could do to stop myself from begging him to cut it. But i believe personal preferences should be respected - as long as they don't cause me much grief! Sunday morning, i was pleasantly surprised when he asked me if he should cut his hair. i would have danced if i was not so busy cooking! i suppressed my excitement and managed to say “you should cut it”. So, after god knows how many months, i finally got to see my man with short hair (i was wondering whether i was doomed to die with the image of long-haired version of him.) He looks good enough to eat now. All i need is a tandoor big enough to roast him whole. Yuck. Where do these thoughts crop up from? i really have a disgusting sense of humour.