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Singapore returned!!!
Made it there... and back... through the worst tubulence ever, seated
in an antiquated Air India aircraft from another zamana. It shuddered
and shook all the way to Singapore. That's five, non-stop hours of
serious shuddering. Khair, once there, I stopped thinking about the Air
France crash and nearly kissed the lovely lady who was there to assisit
me through Custom's. Singapore looked glorious, but I had less than an
hour to shower, change and make it to the 'Song of India' for an
official lunch where the Maharashtrian star chef Milan Suvan frequently
cooks up a version of the humble " kothmir vadi" and locals pounce on
it like it is the most exotic starter on earth.
Well.... this is also where I got to meet the other invited writers - and loved each one of them, starting with Anita Jain ( " Marrying Anita..."), Loveleen Tandon ( script writer and co-director of 'Slumdog...")...et al. Our hosts were determined to work us to the bone and make us read for our supper later the same night. Strictly no rest. No leisure time. No issues. They were picking up the tab. So...
Anita's reading set the venue on fire ( The POD, on top of the National Library). It was sexually charged, intimate and hilarious. I took an instant shine to this spunky 36 -year-old author, a Harvard graduate and former financial journo. She is my new best friend. I don't know if I am hers, though!
That night we all ate the most delicious crab in white pepper, drank lots of Chilean Chardonnay and generally behaved atrociously. The three of us, then headed out to Clarke Quay and bonded over another glass of the good stuff. By the time we got back to our hotel, it was 4 a.m. And we had a ridiculously punishing day ahead of us. But hey - it was an occasion. I'd met two bright and beautiful women and we'd had the best time.... okay??? God! I'm sounding like a guilty school girl justifying a late night to her parents!!! Stop it, De!!!
You don't want every gory, minute-by-minute detail , right?? Let me just tell you, the panel discussion the next night at the stuffy old Tanglin Club was raised to another level by these very ladies. The Chardonnay must have been really good!! Must go back for more someday .
I went back to the 'No Signboard Restaurant' ( official name. Swear) in the red light district of Geyhlang and this time I stuck to an old favourite - the Singapore chilly crab. It was only after I'd finished the meal that I was shown the plump bull frogs waiting to be cooked. Don't throw up. There are worse 'delicacies' and you really don't want to know what those are in these parts.
I was so very happy to read the response to Jayabrato's poem in my last post. I emailed him about it, and he was so uncharacteristically formal and modest! The good news is that there are more poems where that one came from, and he'll soon be publishing them in volume. If he decides to send me another one, I shall promptly share it with you. Meanwhile, my husband has discovered Ovid, and I am bombarded all day with his Bongified version of the Greek poet. I sense a closet poet Dilip. Pity, I am so bloody prosaic!!
Enough already. Tomorrow.... no, let me not spoil it for you. Wait.... and ye shall see...
Well.... this is also where I got to meet the other invited writers - and loved each one of them, starting with Anita Jain ( " Marrying Anita..."), Loveleen Tandon ( script writer and co-director of 'Slumdog...")...et al. Our hosts were determined to work us to the bone and make us read for our supper later the same night. Strictly no rest. No leisure time. No issues. They were picking up the tab. So...
Anita's reading set the venue on fire ( The POD, on top of the National Library). It was sexually charged, intimate and hilarious. I took an instant shine to this spunky 36 -year-old author, a Harvard graduate and former financial journo. She is my new best friend. I don't know if I am hers, though!
That night we all ate the most delicious crab in white pepper, drank lots of Chilean Chardonnay and generally behaved atrociously. The three of us, then headed out to Clarke Quay and bonded over another glass of the good stuff. By the time we got back to our hotel, it was 4 a.m. And we had a ridiculously punishing day ahead of us. But hey - it was an occasion. I'd met two bright and beautiful women and we'd had the best time.... okay??? God! I'm sounding like a guilty school girl justifying a late night to her parents!!! Stop it, De!!!
You don't want every gory, minute-by-minute detail , right?? Let me just tell you, the panel discussion the next night at the stuffy old Tanglin Club was raised to another level by these very ladies. The Chardonnay must have been really good!! Must go back for more someday .
I went back to the 'No Signboard Restaurant' ( official name. Swear) in the red light district of Geyhlang and this time I stuck to an old favourite - the Singapore chilly crab. It was only after I'd finished the meal that I was shown the plump bull frogs waiting to be cooked. Don't throw up. There are worse 'delicacies' and you really don't want to know what those are in these parts.
I was so very happy to read the response to Jayabrato's poem in my last post. I emailed him about it, and he was so uncharacteristically formal and modest! The good news is that there are more poems where that one came from, and he'll soon be publishing them in volume. If he decides to send me another one, I shall promptly share it with you. Meanwhile, my husband has discovered Ovid, and I am bombarded all day with his Bongified version of the Greek poet. I sense a closet poet Dilip. Pity, I am so bloody prosaic!!
Enough already. Tomorrow.... no, let me not spoil it for you. Wait.... and ye shall see...
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