A writer is a professional spinner of lies. His job: to lay out the truth on a bed of magnificent lies so it is visible… »
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Kiss, kiss, the English way
For a people who are painfully private, the English are pretty public when it comes to kissing. There they would be walking down the road, upper lip stiff and at the ready, when suddenly romance overcomes them. The next thing you know, they have grabbed hold of their partner and are kissing the life out… »
Where dogs don’t bark
Particularly telling on the English way of life was my friend Deepa’s comment the other day (actually she quoted her friend, but never mind): “Yaar, these people, they not only keep their children quiet, but they even manage to keep their dogs quiet! You’ll never have a dog barking at you on the streets!… »
Who but the English
The English are possibly the most stiff-lipped bunch ever to sip beer and watch football, but one thing you cannot accuse them of is lacking a sense of humour. Their humour, like the rest of them, is very English – splendidly… »
Bless Rooney’s little foot!
The English have the most charming of all national pastimes. Honestly, can you imagine anything better than swaggering to the pub, swigging beer, swearing at the screen, then getting your nose busted by anyone willing to throw a… »
How to survive the English
Don’t tell an Englishman to shut up. He will drop dead with shock. In India ‘Aw, shut up!’, ‘Buzz off’ ‘Drop dead’, ‘Get a life’, etc are considered essentials in any healthy conversation. In England,… »
Young guy, old girl
Overheard in the men’s, this conversation between two eight- or nine-year olds, as they wetted the dirt on their face at the washbasin…… »
Nice, very nice
Art, or anything close to it, is completely wasted on me. That’s a known fact. Still I went to an art exhibition at Gallery 286 in London the other… »
Life stops for no one
He dies, you die, I die; life stops for no one. Life stops only for the one who… »
Warmth… in a cold country
Racism I had been told, is a favourite pastime in England. They don’t seem to play that particular sport much over here in Bournemouth (pronounced ‘Bon-moth’, with unnecessary vehemence attached to the first bit), except for poking fun at Americans… »