Cheesy song, that. Currently listening to it. On replay mode.
Saw a full-blown insurrection today. Propah Mangal Pandey-type chap. Was ranting about assorted calumnies being visited upon the proletariat staff by the Bar Bourgeoisie.
Riled him further by asking him about the appropriate procedure pertaining to the submission of a Rule 40 application. Right in the middle of a strirring, fire-and-brimstone monologue. Was told I was at the wrong counter. Dunno, if ’twas literal or metaphorical.
Lost my umbrella handle on the road. Didn’t notice until a kindly shopkeeper pointed it out and despatched one of his underlings to rummage for it. He didn’t find it either. Walked the rest of the way with an umbrella without a handle. Pretty cool. Not half as cool as my mini-umbra though; the one I used to tote around in college.
Butter Chicken and Cappuccino is one BAD combination. Not recommended. AT ALL.
There’s a point on the seventh floor terrace at the City Civil Court, where you can see the Hooghly to your right, the Cal HC ramparts and the Eden floodlights dead-centre, and what looked like the Ochterlony Monument, to your left. I’d have probably seen more, but for the blasted rain
My shoes are clean. As clean as they have ever been. Wading through a couple of feet of water all day long does have its strong points.