Haikus and hot bun samosas

Yet another brilliantly cold Bangalore sunday morning and i was rudely awakened at seven a.m by a loud polyphonic rendition of 'All i wanna do is find a waaay back intoo luurve'. Sigh. My roomies alarm. She, of course, slumbered peacefully on. Rumblings in my nether regions prompted me to get into my fuzzy slippers, clutch the sunday times firmly under my arm and brave the corriders to reach the only clean bathroom cubicle before anyone else.
I pass by basins testifying to saturday night excesses. Instead of being clogged by the usual dal-chaval-subzi residues of weeknights, more exotic remanents presented themselves. A bit of gobi manchurian, stir fried onion and capsicum bits and even what looked like a cheese burst pizza crust bit. Living it up, the denizens of my hostel.
I settle on the bitterly cold porcelain and rustle my newspaper contentedly. Aaah...tabloids,the sweet sound of the latesht bollywood hits from the tea stall across the road and passing trucks honking in harmony...as 'kabhi kabhi aditi...' blared out, I read all about the new bollywood 'it' couples and how open and bold they were about their relationships as opposed to a generation ago, some woman claiming it was all a marketing gimmick and also about Priyanka Chopras denial. I wonder yet again at the amount of print space wasted and also my inability to ignore the piece. The Great Indian Tabloid Reflex...alas, I too have fallen victim to it.
The next page had an article advocating housework as a means to sexy curves. It also hinted at the hot action following your 'sexy kaamwali bai' act....comments witheld entirely.
I turn to the comics section with relief and as always, Garfield never disappoints, almost making up for the lack of Calvin on sundays.
Back to the room, I make a half hearted attempt to pick up my textbooks and abandon them with an almost indecent relish when i realised I still had (halleluah!) the main paper left. I turn to Shashi Tharoor (who, by the way, is on my list of people-i-actually-want-to-meet-and-worship) talking about Narasimha Rao giving the independence day address in hindi, of which he knew not a word and had to have it written out in kannada script. He celebrates the Indianness of this and revels in the multiculturalism and pluralism of it all. I revel right along with him.

My newly attempted vegetarianism has survived two whole weeks amongst such potholes and traps such as chicken stuffed parathas and the horrors of veggie pizza at the very local 'Stop and Eat Perfect Pitsa Parler (Burgar bun also here)'.
Talking of pizzas, my new junk food fix is the ubiquitous 'bun samosa'.
Perfectly simple to make...grab a couple of burger buns, squash a samosa in between, add some very orange locally made 'ketchup', some diced onions and a large chilly and voila...culinary delight at fifteen rupees wonly!

I move onto my blog trawling, after my daily gofugyourself.celebuzz.com fix, and i went to check out Manvis brilliantly funny blog (http://www.iceqube.blogspot.com/) and found this beautifully evocative haiku :

Too quick to be caught,
Too free to be bought,
A dream, a feather.
Do head over for random rants and killingly funny humour.

Much as i would like to share more minutiae of my sunday, a load of laundry stares accusingly from under the bed where ive hidden it. Off I go to the land of Surf excel Active and the promise of 'No more stains'...happy sunday to you all!