I met up a couple of friends at Bandstand the other day. We planned to go for a walk and have road side coffee and bhelpuri later on. One of them is from Delhi, another one had flown in from the U.S. (I forget which city – but it snows a lot over there and they make papaya quiches), and the third one was from Bandra. As we walked by the sea, all of us in our cotton tees and skirts, one of them smiled and remarked, “Hey! Check out our winter-wear!”
This started a discussion that could probably feature in a joke book some time. My pal from the U.S. remarked that it was snowing so heavily back home that they had to call a tow-truck to get their car out of the garage on to the road. The one from Delhi said that sometimes it gets so cold and foggy that you can’t even read time on your wrist-watch. My friend from Bandra, not to be outdone, said that Bombay gets so cold in winters that you can actually walk for three whole minutes without sweating.
We ditched the coffee and had kulfi instead.
This started a discussion that could probably feature in a joke book some time. My pal from the U.S. remarked that it was snowing so heavily back home that they had to call a tow-truck to get their car out of the garage on to the road. The one from Delhi said that sometimes it gets so cold and foggy that you can’t even read time on your wrist-watch. My friend from Bandra, not to be outdone, said that Bombay gets so cold in winters that you can actually walk for three whole minutes without sweating.
We ditched the coffee and had kulfi instead.
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