I always say being with people is tiring. Today I stepped out of the Anun ice-cream shop in Radhakrishnan Road (lovely stuff in there!) with such joy. I had with me 200 g of butterscoth ice-cream with peanuts and almond topping. I went home, stored it in the fridge, and got ready to go out again. There was a sort of get-together I had promised a friend to go to, so butterscoth just had to wait. I also had the the last book of The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency waiting. I just wanted to leave, get it done, and come back to the comfort of book and butterscotch.

The get-together was as a get-together should be: crowded, awkward, aimless. However. I was there. Had to mingle. Had to smile. Had to be pleasant. The trilogy of agonies. I thought: book and butterscotch waiting. Can't be that bad.
But people knew exactly how to put me off. I began thinking that if you attended anything that involves other people, you should be allowed to carry a list of the things you agree to be questioned on. I dealt with it my own way :

Q : "Are you Bengali?"
Me : "Yes."

Q : "Are you a Filipino?"
Me : "Yes."

Q : "Are you Nepali? My friend's Nepali - she looks so like you!"
Me : "Uh huh."

Q : "You are a Tamilian? But you don't look like a Tamilian! You have such a cute nose!"
Me: *thinks* 'you're such a freak!'

I was so glad to be home. Book is a joy. Butterscotch is a joy.