Yeah, the above line was plain sad.
But really, I am stuffed on 7667% of daily requirement of the vitamin today, thanks to the Shiitake (learn to pronounce it correct) served in my Teppan cuisine choices (of Prawns and Chicken) from the menu at Crazy Noodles over at TGIP. I'm high on Umami, too. The visit to the GIP itself was upon Shiv's insistence; he gives a classy touch to my regular decay. Well, my love for 'shrooms connects me to decay in a way. (But nothing connects me better to decay than plain mad love for decay itself)
During the course of our meal, the great mall was thrice submerged in second-long darkness - it was uneventful, except that the combined effect of the darkness, and lit decoration candles on each of the tables, left someone with a romantic yearning (that could not be fulfilled).
Speaking of sad, Mission Impossible Ghost Protocol poster looked a bit sad - this guy, all by himself, suctioning to a glass pane for his life. That's not so larger-than-life, as much as it is dude-seems-i-fucked-up.
For a while between the Prawns and the Chopsuey, the floor was filled with paced footsteps, anxious expressions, unidirectional human bulk. Parents waddling behind kids holding a packet of chips (and miscellenia). Matriarchy leading their "healthy" Sardarji patriarchy. It was sort of a time prediction device, for I could guess that the 2245 Matinee show was on at BIG Cinemas next door; some horrible new-release about the sexual exploits of one Ricky Behal, the lead played by another of those random faces in the industry that you stop seeing after exactly 2 years, or 5 movies. As per the 13 ratings on IMDB, it ranks 9.8, which must make it the greatest movie on this planet - for those 13 viewers... I guess 4chan could rape IMDB next by up-voting one of H. Reshamiya movies, so that the future generation of watchers will speak of Tera Suroor alongside The Shawshank Redemption.
I see the aforementioned romantic yearning being fulfilled now. Tits! Honour!
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