After 6 glasses of smooth red wine made in Nasik, bought in Goa, consumed in Malad,


a mainly-qawali night from our very own ‘fairly talented when drunk’ troupe


coming home

when one man was already jogging in Goregaon East, a woman in Saibaba Complex was feeding some stray dogs, and a man outside another gate was tying white rags around a couple of stray puppies to protect them from the cold,

and another man in a lungi, plastic bucket in hand, was on his way to finding a private corner for his morning ablutions on Western Express Highway,


before going to sleep, first packing up the leftovers of palak paneer, rajma, mutton curry and peas pulao, cooked for 25 people, and eaten by 10 to the capacity of 5, because everyone had stuffed themselves with liquids by 2 am,

I am not really at my scintillating best, so I shall content myself

with wishing all of you a Happy New Year

and excuse myself for all your posts that I have not read yet.

Maybe tomorrow my head won’t be throbbing quite this much.