In Paris, society people unironically dress for dinner, go to cocktail parties (where the hostess has an obvious drinking problem), dine with Catholic Bishops, industrialists, politicians and occasional celebrities (usually for charity) in places dripping with atmosphere.

I met this famous actor once (July 2019, pre-covid, I was 15), at one of these summer parties in Paris. He was probably in his early forties (an impression, I didn’t look it up). Shall we wax poetic?

It was sunset - almost 10PM in Paris.
The last rose-blush of sunset was in the west.
I was leaning on the wrought iron balustrade,
of a 4th floor terrace, in the center of the city proper.

The Seine still shimmered, with diaphanous emerald flecks,
and the air was heady with the perfume of jasmine and Nuxe oil.
Behind me, beyond the French doors and filigreed silk drapes
that fluttered like angel wings, a cocktail party was happening.

I could hear the tinkling of glass, laughter and conversation.
A couple, across the way, were wrapped together as if for warmth
and they communicated in the language of lingering touch and gazes
that delved and explored. I smiled, embarrassed, and looked away.

Ok, snap out of it.

He came out on the terrace alone, as if he was looking for a breath of air and stopped at the railing about three feet away from me. After a minute, he turned, as if I’d suddenly appeared, and introduced himself.
When we shook hands, his felt like silk.

Anyway, we’d chatted for under a minute - I was jabbering about how I’d loved the Bourne movies - I was trying to sound interesting - when he leaned in and whispered, “What would you do if I kissed you right now?”

I was flabbergasted and I think I looked around to see if he was talking to me. Sometimes life offers simple choices. I grimaced, shook my head ‘no,’ and at first, I backed away, then I turned and hustled back to the party.
I think he chuckled. I saw him some time later, chatting up a model-looking woman.

I told Charles about it after the party and he said, “Huh - No kidding?” Then he shrugged and said, “Hollywood.”

This isn’t some sobbing “me too’ story. I wasn’t traumatized. It’s a tale of entitled male tomfoolery. Maybe I looked older in a certain light? A humorous ‘growing up’ story I get to share with friends - and now with all 8 of my readers.
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Songs for this:
Hurricane Waters by Citizen Cope
Beautiful Trash by Lanu & Meg Washington
Quero Te a Sambar by Tape Five

Some place
Some time
There was a tea shop.
Open not just in the mornings,
But at noon and the evenings too.

Mornings, the menu read
Uzhunnuvada, idli,dosa,
Uppuma, vellayappam,idiyappam,
Sambar, payaru curry,kadala
And several chatnis.

Noon, the menu read
Aviyal,achinga,pachadi,
Kichadi,pulisseri,thoran,achar,
And several kinds of buttermilk.

Evenings, the menu read
Sukhiyan, bonda,
Pazhampori, parippu vada, mulaguvada,
Diluted milk, black coffee
And several forms of tea.

There was a cook in that tea shop.
There was an owner for that tea shop.
Both had a son each.
Those boys went to the same school.
They studied in the same class.
They sat on the same bench.

Whenever he was hungry,
One of the boys thought of
The owner of that tea shop.
Eyes widening with admiration for
The great man that he was!
He could eat anything
Whenever he was hungry,
Reaching for it in the container
Or poking his head into the food shelf
Or entering the kitchen itself.
He could take anything,
The boy salivated.

To the query “What do you want to be?”,
He even replied once that
He wanted to be that man.

But, whenever he was hungry,
The other boy thought of
The cook in that tea shop.
He lauded him in awe of
the great man that he was.
He could cook and eat
Anything any time any quantity,
He imagined jealously.

To the query “What do you want to be?”,
He even replied once that
He wanted to be that man.

Wait, don’t leave yet,
Dusting off your bottom
After reading an average poem.
Sighing indepthly
Or grunting lazily
Or belching sourly.

You are free to leave after
Answering a few questions.


Who owns this tea shop actually?
These schoolboys from the tea shop,
Whose sons are they actually?

There is another boy
Besides these two
In this poem!

Who is he?

Hush descended on the birds of the valley
a horned owl hooted on the hill above me
emerged from the mist a pale blue moon
you know in the jungle the night comes soon!

Nocturne shimmered expectant still
the king had arrived to claim his ****
his shadow moved with a low mutter growl
stopped in its hoot the lone horned owl!

Thirty feet below neath the yawning screen
on the big oak the tallest on ravine
it so seemed but only a few pace
within the reach of the king’s embrace!

The two only knew who were in the war
one to be witnessed by the langur sambar
cries of caution they all would sing
not least bothered arrived the king!

On its track stopped the wind afraid
as the risen moon showed the king’s head
his paws advanced eyes fixed on me
for three days the king was going hungry!

Licking his **** he took an apple bite
birds took flight night froze in fright
to shoulder must raise my rifle on knees
while the king ate his dinner in peace!

His eyes glimmered in pleasure’s full glow
my fingers closed and inched up slow
but what I did over the valley rang out
cupping my hands gave a full throated shout!

It echoed in the hill such loud was the blare
the king ran for life with his tail in the air
and so long he lived couldn’t recover from daze
of being driven by a weakling out of village!

In the city of Mumbai
When you want food and now
You reach out to grab
The glorious vada pao

A round golden ball
Filled of potatoes n spice
You have one and you are reminded
Of all things good & nice

The great Equalizer
Liked by all, big or small
Have it with chutney or chili
Whether you live in a bunglow or a chawl

Dip it in sambar
or stuff it in a pao
Have it any way
You will only say "wow"

I had one today
I ate it with glee
I have realised like all mumbaikars
The vada pao is meant for me!

Telanjang bersebaran di permadani
Mencari memanisan di setiap bagian

Lekas sambar reremahan itu
Tak terhingga, Tak merasa
Perkasa namun serakah

Wahai Tuan-Ku, Sang Kekal
Apa Hamba orang lalai ?

Manis Hamba terasa sepai
Menanti Azab Sang Khalik