Whenever I sit in a local train in Bombay in the women’s compartment, I look around at the women around me and think to myself, “Surely, surely, Indian women are the most beautiful in the world.” Then I wonder if I am overselling it, and cut back to, “Surely, surely, Indian women have the most beautiful hair in the world.” I guess I just like sitting there and looking at them.
Someone made this genius argument in a cafe the other day. A muffin with chocolate or cocoa based icing is better than a similar muffin with sugar based icing because the former has anti-oxidants. No really, it is.
I usually eat watermelon by the slice. That is, I slice off a wedge (honouring radial symmetry whenever possible), and keep the rest intact. I always notice that the sweetness is maximum at the center and decreases toward the outer surface. It also depends on which direction one moves in — the stem end and the equator do not have the same sweetness, but the difference is slight.
The interesting thing I experienced recently, and which is a direct corollary of the above, is this: While eating watermelon that has been neatly cubed (something I rarely do), it is still possible to roughly guess from whence that particular cubic inch came. The colour is one giveaway, but it’s really the sweetness that is the best indicator. That’s kind of cool.
In my old undergrad hostel (which is no longer old — the new building is four times bigger, and forty times swankier) I saw a girl wearing a T-shirt that had on it the words “100% single.”
It’s brilliant really. It was rare for girls to have boyfriends when I first was an undergrad, it was something to feel a little bit special about if you did, then it quickly became the norm and it was sort of sad if you didn’t, and then, all these years later, we have someone proudly proclaiming singlehood.
When the counter-culture becomes the culture, it is time for the counter-counter-culture to evolve.