Wednesday, September 22, 2004
A SUPERMALL NAMED GIANT
Was Baby’s Day out today, was to visit a few supermarkets and imbibe nuances of shopping behaviour, customer frenzy, impulsive purchases interspersed with schemes and stratagems, supply and stocking. Did that—for once the weather was pleasant and cloudy, and hardly any humidity—all thanks to my many good deeds in Bombay.
Visited Malad, Goregaon & Versova for the first time—am fast turning into a sputnik. They seemed a little different to the rest of the city I’d seen –vast expanses of land for parking lots, loads of space enough for three corpulent aunts to pass in aisles, trolleys the size of tables and a more relaxed air on the whole.
I am forever stupefied at the fact that there is so much stuff in these supermarkets that I do not need. Stuff that I did not even know existed until recently—all kinds of preserves and spreads, Ready-To-Cook almost anything, varieties of magic potions and mysterious concoctions. The plethora of discounts on offer is staggering and is capable of inveigling even the most intransigent bystander.
What caught my eye were soft “ S-M-I-L-E” tennis balls which I played around with ( before the icy stares around me made me put them back, most hesitantly ) and some humongous cases of pet food. For all kinds—bonny dogs, blasé dogs, happy dogs, hep dogs, and for pups too. Amazing ! My dog ( dear Ruff, bless him ! ) used to quite happily snack on fruits, veggies and milk—of course his particular favourite was thengozhal , a typically Tamilian savoury prepared on festivals.
:”Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping”
Death to the kirana store ? We’ll see—they yet hold some charm.
THE ELEPHANT-HEADED GOD
I am still getting used to the idea that the Problem-Solving Pachyderm can be immersed on any of these eleven days. ( I had believed, erroneously, that we had to wait till the 11th day and Chowpatty was the only Davy Jones locker available ). Anyway, the story is that most of the office staff has cleared off citing traffic difficulties –curiously, even those who live two blocks away. He has a strange pull—this Ganpati….
ZOOM
Caught unguarded a few nights ago by this new TV Channel, called Zoom, launched by the multi-talented Times Group, for purposes unexplained and mystical.
Decided to sit through what was an essay at a stand-up comedy show by a chap called Vir Das ( who does some film-based shows too ). Suffice to say, it was straight out of Wodehouse, you know, the time when a pink-faced Earl is asked to day something light and gay, to a bunch of ruddy-faced schoolkids, and one by one, the witticisms are studiedly ignored and not laughed at. Pity the set audience—hum tum se mohabbat karke sanam, haste bhi rahe, rote bui rahe.
Well, there’s a corporate Karaoke competition at the hotel I live in, the last song of dusk amidst the cinnamon-tied crooners and the barons of buzz.
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Was Baby’s Day out today, was to visit a few supermarkets and imbibe nuances of shopping behaviour, customer frenzy, impulsive purchases interspersed with schemes and stratagems, supply and stocking. Did that—for once the weather was pleasant and cloudy, and hardly any humidity—all thanks to my many good deeds in Bombay.
Visited Malad, Goregaon & Versova for the first time—am fast turning into a sputnik. They seemed a little different to the rest of the city I’d seen –vast expanses of land for parking lots, loads of space enough for three corpulent aunts to pass in aisles, trolleys the size of tables and a more relaxed air on the whole.
I am forever stupefied at the fact that there is so much stuff in these supermarkets that I do not need. Stuff that I did not even know existed until recently—all kinds of preserves and spreads, Ready-To-Cook almost anything, varieties of magic potions and mysterious concoctions. The plethora of discounts on offer is staggering and is capable of inveigling even the most intransigent bystander.
What caught my eye were soft “ S-M-I-L-E” tennis balls which I played around with ( before the icy stares around me made me put them back, most hesitantly ) and some humongous cases of pet food. For all kinds—bonny dogs, blasé dogs, happy dogs, hep dogs, and for pups too. Amazing ! My dog ( dear Ruff, bless him ! ) used to quite happily snack on fruits, veggies and milk—of course his particular favourite was thengozhal , a typically Tamilian savoury prepared on festivals.
:”Whoever said money can't buy happiness simply didn't know where to go shopping”
Death to the kirana store ? We’ll see—they yet hold some charm.
THE ELEPHANT-HEADED GOD
I am still getting used to the idea that the Problem-Solving Pachyderm can be immersed on any of these eleven days. ( I had believed, erroneously, that we had to wait till the 11th day and Chowpatty was the only Davy Jones locker available ). Anyway, the story is that most of the office staff has cleared off citing traffic difficulties –curiously, even those who live two blocks away. He has a strange pull—this Ganpati….
ZOOM
Caught unguarded a few nights ago by this new TV Channel, called Zoom, launched by the multi-talented Times Group, for purposes unexplained and mystical.
Decided to sit through what was an essay at a stand-up comedy show by a chap called Vir Das ( who does some film-based shows too ). Suffice to say, it was straight out of Wodehouse, you know, the time when a pink-faced Earl is asked to day something light and gay, to a bunch of ruddy-faced schoolkids, and one by one, the witticisms are studiedly ignored and not laughed at. Pity the set audience—hum tum se mohabbat karke sanam, haste bhi rahe, rote bui rahe.
Well, there’s a corporate Karaoke competition at the hotel I live in, the last song of dusk amidst the cinnamon-tied crooners and the barons of buzz.
