le 31 mai 2010, Paris
The air is filled with the flowers from les platanes and the sun is still there at 8 pm. Spring is in Paris despite the chilly temperature.
Flaner – the best exercise in Paris and the precursor to anything unpredictable. So I was wondering in the streets and found a great restaurant. But after asking two neighborhood guys, Helas, it was closed. They pointed out that nearby at the Place de Gaillon there were two gastronomy restaurants and one of them belongs to Gerard Depardieu.
Place de la Gaillon is a lovely little square with two high end restaurants. But right across the street, there was this homey little restaurant with painted red windows and menu on the wall and it was recommended by Michelin. The waitress has a lovely smile so I chose this one.
The guy manning the oster bar liked me and gave me une langustine de plus. The plateau d’Ecaille was simply copieux et delicieux. I was conquered by my food, my glasses of wine and the time just being alone and enjoying myself. I even offered a stranger some of my huitres. These simple earthly happy moments that make life worth living. R, who would share art, travel, sex, food and surprises with me, thourouly, totally, fully as you?
I saw the waiters running out all the time with trays of seafood and running back with hot food. I found out that Depardieu has two restaurants, this little one serves the seafood to the luxurious one, the other one cooks plats chauds for this one – at the end, the food is the same and price is half here!
Vive la France and Depardieu – great actor and marketer.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Sunday, May 23, 2010
The outcast and the Indian wedding
The wedding started at 9 am. Hands were perfumed by sandalwood, hair sprayed by rose water and scarlet dot made in between the eyes.
"This is the first uncle, the daughter of the second uncle, the aunt who suffered two strokes, the brother of the bride..." within minutes I got all confused "They are all mad at me, because I am not married". Thus is the introduction of R.
The priest that was specially trained and well paid to perform the wedding ceremony sat down. Trumpet started to blow out those high pitch tones and drum beats got more and more intense. Incenses are burned to blur all senses.
The whole wedding was bathed in a warm orange-ish hue: shinny dark skin tones, gorgeous hand woven saris, the gold covered bride, the jumpy flame that could made saris catch fire, plenty of flowers and even the sound of the trumpet has that orange color.
The ceremony was performed on the stage, the guests either watched or minded their own business. Part 1 was dedicated to the groom, part 2 to the bride, part 3 to the couple with their parents. Each long enough to exhaust everyone who was part of it. At the highlight, everyone threw rice mixed with jasmine to bless the couple. Then the whole crowd proceeded to the legal part: sign the contract, change the ring, deal was sealed - i.e. breaking the deal could cost more than the lavish wedding.
Then everyone runs for the food. R and I went upstairs for the non-vegetarian part. Instead of waiting in line, we went to the lounge to have a beer. "A single woman sits in a bar to have a beer is never heard of in India, even the prostitutes don't do that." Well, at least I outperformed the prostitutes. "I lived in Shanghai for almost three years and came back to Singapore to get married. Once a woman becomes a wife, she just changes! My marriage lasted 3 months..." "Did you go through this kind of ceremony?" I asked "Thank God no!".
The line was gone so we went for food. A runs in, red with anger, shouted: "You put me in a very embarrassing situation! I tried to keep seats for you and you just disappeared!" And then he run off as quickly as a drum beat, full of fury.
R and I went downstairs, A was sitting among housewives and crying babies holding two seats for us - ultimate results of similar weddings in the past. A boy was picking up jasmine flowers from the floor. I thought that he would collect them, but after he gathered a handful, he threw them in the air again.
"This is the first uncle, the daughter of the second uncle, the aunt who suffered two strokes, the brother of the bride..." within minutes I got all confused "They are all mad at me, because I am not married". Thus is the introduction of R.
The priest that was specially trained and well paid to perform the wedding ceremony sat down. Trumpet started to blow out those high pitch tones and drum beats got more and more intense. Incenses are burned to blur all senses.
The whole wedding was bathed in a warm orange-ish hue: shinny dark skin tones, gorgeous hand woven saris, the gold covered bride, the jumpy flame that could made saris catch fire, plenty of flowers and even the sound of the trumpet has that orange color.
The ceremony was performed on the stage, the guests either watched or minded their own business. Part 1 was dedicated to the groom, part 2 to the bride, part 3 to the couple with their parents. Each long enough to exhaust everyone who was part of it. At the highlight, everyone threw rice mixed with jasmine to bless the couple. Then the whole crowd proceeded to the legal part: sign the contract, change the ring, deal was sealed - i.e. breaking the deal could cost more than the lavish wedding.
Then everyone runs for the food. R and I went upstairs for the non-vegetarian part. Instead of waiting in line, we went to the lounge to have a beer. "A single woman sits in a bar to have a beer is never heard of in India, even the prostitutes don't do that." Well, at least I outperformed the prostitutes. "I lived in Shanghai for almost three years and came back to Singapore to get married. Once a woman becomes a wife, she just changes! My marriage lasted 3 months..." "Did you go through this kind of ceremony?" I asked "Thank God no!".
The line was gone so we went for food. A runs in, red with anger, shouted: "You put me in a very embarrassing situation! I tried to keep seats for you and you just disappeared!" And then he run off as quickly as a drum beat, full of fury.
R and I went downstairs, A was sitting among housewives and crying babies holding two seats for us - ultimate results of similar weddings in the past. A boy was picking up jasmine flowers from the floor. I thought that he would collect them, but after he gathered a handful, he threw them in the air again.
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