I spent most of last night swearing, over the firecracker bombs that kept going off every five seconds. A good friend called up to compare notes; she said her dog was shivering on the couch. And most of us arrived rather groggy-eyed to work, this morning. So, concerts must stop at 10. And I hear that smoking may be banned in pubs pretty soon. But all of us must be subjected to such gross intrusiveness, such assault on one’s ears and the environment. Grrrrr!
Firecracker bombs MUST BE BANNED. What sort of sadistic pleasure do noises that sound like war explosions serve? I don’t understand the psyche of people who set them off. I think they are just SUPER-MINDLESS.
On a different note, my Punjabi friend’s Goan theme Diwali party, was rather inspiring as far as theme parties go. The latter mostly, seem not to exist, because the thought having to conjure up themes and dress up accordingly, seems rather tedious, taking into account our uber-workaholic lifestyle. He had sorpotel and xacuti and Goan music (which reminded one of scary family parties with big-butt contests, since we are a family of big people).
No fenny though (thank goodness; have you EVER tried venturing near someone with fenny-laced breadth?!). We were all supposed to wear dresses with darts (thank goodness, those ‘dresses-with-hideous-dart’-wearing days are over!).
As for my friend, he is an aspiring Goan, or so he claims. What a concept!
