food

bloody indian

Bloody Indian:

“The standard-issue Bloody Indian goes abroad and talks only to other Indians. He or she will eat only rice and daal cooked in the communal kitchen where Bloody Indians gather. They complain about foreigners, their loose women, their dirty ways and their disgusting food. They will, however, religiously and respectfully put away these foreigners’ high-exchange-rate money every month.”
“The prime-grade Bloody Indian will go abroad and get a full-blown accent on the walk from the plane to immigration (some even get one on takeoff, and some of the worst offenders get one even before they’ve left home). They suck up to all the Westerners they meet and try very hard to prove to them that Indians are just Westerners in disguise.”

update, Nov 2010: Haha, I seem to be getting hate mail for this blog post! A quick clarification: the quoted words aren’t mine, they were from a website called “Bloody Indian.com”, which has since shut down. The site featured fairly stirring commentary on stereotypes of Indians abroad. I’ve updated the link to point to Internet Archive, so you can read the contents of that old website.

trivial junk food

Pringles for Kids: clearly a product of the “Fat Nerds” research program.

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miss.communication

a non geeky post, in response to feedback from my awesome readers, instigated by the accounts on this wonderful weblog

Pretty women can often keep your brain from functioning. It’s sometimes hard to believe, until you experience yet another embarassment that reminds you of the way things work in this world. Like, for instance, the incident that happened in the great Buffalo Wild Wings down on State Street. Great place, nice ambience, and dark haired, blue eyed waitresses.

Of which one of them comes up to me, and asks me what I would like to drink. “Just food”, I say. Sudden loss of ability to construct sentences, I realize. Maybe she’ll overlook that as a sign of me being, uh, you know, those Asian brown people and all. “What would you like to eat then”, she proceeds, maintaining her professional chirpiness.

“Six Wings”, I say, pointing to the menu’s photo as if to prove that either I am illiterate or she is.
“Would you like sauce with that?”, she asks.
“Yes”
“What sauce?”
“Yes”
“What sauce?”
“Yes”
“What sauce?”
“Yes”
“What sauce?”
“Yes” (thinking, at that point of time, why the hell is she asking me if I want HOT SAUCE so many times?)
“Sir, what kind of sauce would you like?”
“What do you have?”
“Sweet sauce, Hot sauce….”
HOT Sauce!”
“Ok, great”
“Thank you”.
“Will be right back with your wings!”

Turning back to continue the conversation with my friend on the table:
“She said What Sauce, retard”
“Yes, I wasn’t thinking too well”, I say. “Maybe I should leave her the whole ten bucks”
“For a four dollar meal?!”, glaring at me.
“Er, maybe not, then.”

What can I say, dear waitress at BWW… I’m just a little Indian who’s still getting accustomed to American accents, American restaurants and American sauces. And above all, still getting accustomed to those pretty blue eyes that every girl here seems to have.

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arnab dot international

Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the first ever arnab dot org blog post from outside India! I really wanted to do a post from Frankfurt; but couldn’t find free/sanely-priced internet anywhere at the airport. It’s raining right now in Ann Arbor, the current weather more or less seems like Bangalore; which I’m very happy with. Anyway, that’s all for now. Off to get some mexican food with seniors!

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afternoon musings

They’re playing “Lola” by The Kinks on Virgin Radio. I really like this song – first heard it on Go 92.5, driving down Juhu Beach in Mumbai. I didn’t know then it was about a rather unfortunate encounter, though. Not that it changes anything, the song is really catchy.

In my attempts to reverse the effects of a sedantary lifestyle, I have decided to lighten up my intake of food. So, lunch was two microbananas, followed by small bowls of dal, dahi a few slices of tomato, and a few spoonfuls of rice. I finished my plate, felt all nice and happy about it.
And then as I was walking back to my desk, I picked up a huge handful of salted, oily potato chips. “C’est La Vie”, the fat, smirking devil in my head sighed.

I’m still undecided about whether the losing of money in laundry is worth the joy that comes from finding it back again.

Oh, and I watched Batman Begins yesterday. After the disastrous George Clooney movie and 70’s televison serial episodes; this one makes up for the damage, and finally gets it right. A couple of facts are distorted, but I’m okay with that, considering the great job they did in trying to explain what Batman is really about.

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first serve

we all complain of this malady
and seek a convenient remedy
come up with cliched reasons
sporadic disappearances spanning whole seasons
how do we explain with cogency
the plight of our infrequency?
some thing drastic needs to be done
to get rid of this deprivation
of food for thought, stuff to write about
to invigorate the literary spout

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good chinese food

If you're in Bangalore, do visit Madhu's new restaurant, Shiok Far-eastern Cuisine that serves good Thai, Malaysian, Indonesian, and Singaporean food and has a rather spiffy website with a "Chef's Blog" even. The restaurant is on CMH Road, Indiranagar, Bangalore and all the food here contains no MonoSodiumGlutamate(Ajinomoto), so you don't have to worry about brain damage or anything like that when eating here.

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