where unpleasant words go when they die



Showing posts with label cars. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cars. Show all posts

In Bhutan.

14/7/12

Lying on my bed in a hotel room.
Just finished watching Stranger Than Fiction with my parents.
Earphones plugged in, with nothing but fuzz playing through to my brain.
No internet.
Great view.
Compromise.
Hmph.

Slightly strung out on strong Bhutanese coffee.
Have to get up early tomorrow.
It's almost a daily thing now-one city today, another tomorrow,
Package tours, I tell you.

Still, its one beautiful country.
And the food is surprising, quite unique and above all, delicious.

The country's roads are nearly all the same.
Thin tarmac snakes winding across the evergreen mountains and valleys that define Bhutan.
Rough-patched and uneven, from the frequent landslides from the near-constant showers.

Monasteries and forts and temples alike proclaim a very well-set culture with traditions going back to the 7th century.
Let me tell you, these guys take their Buddhism pretty darn seriously.
-Smoking is illegal(gives you bad karma).
-Slaughter of animals is illegal.(so all the meat comes from India)
-Its so bad, that flies hover freely in even the best restaurants and resorts as fly-zappers are illegal(see above).
-The booze flows pretty freely, and every second establishment has a sign that ends in "CUM BAR"(sure,pun intended, but its true).

The women are pretty and the sex ratio favours them.
So the eyes are happy, but the heart isn't.
Their attire is mostly limited by law, to some pretty funky looking clothes(most young folk excuse themselves from this rule-except official business).
The mens' informal dresses bear a strong resemblance to Scottish kilts, and the womens' to two piece kimonos, one half silk and one half patterned cotton(kinda hot, gotta say).


The cars are cheap(relatively) as there is no import duty, so jealousy is quite inevitable and must therefore be excused.

Weed grows as a wild plant in most parts of the country, so looking out the window while traveling was a wee bit more fun.
Well, it wasn't the season for it to be flowering(especially in the wild) so there was none to be had(meh).


Seven hour drive tomorrow, back to Paro, from where we fly back to Kolkata and then back home to Bangalore.
Should be there by Tuesday evening, in time to pick up the Thar(Need it to drive to work the next morning).
Oh, Im doing my industrial training at this factory some 20km from home, on the highway to Chennai.
Learning to MIG and TIG weld at a plant that produces doors for Volvo buses.
By the end of the month, someone will have purchased a bus which has had a door welded by yours truly(hopefully).
A certain sense of achievement looms ahead in the future, but its at the cost of 2 burnt fingers, a badly sunburnt arm and aching eyes(the damage done till date).


Feels nice to write after so long.
Will post this as soon as I get net access(probably in Paro).

Ciao.

Up In Smoke

She woke up, about half an hour after daybreak, to the chirping of the birds outside.
I was watching.
She began to change her clothes, and I felt little tingles run down my spine, as I watched the layers come and go.
~most people don't usually change with the curtains drawn back, with nothing but a large french window between your privates and the great outdoors, but that false sense of privacy is exactly why you pay top dollar for a remote chalet in the Tuscan countryside~
In any case, I was quite happy given the present circumstances.

And before you ask, YES.
I did zoom in for a closer look.
Most guys would, given the chance.
For she had an exquisite body.
The sort of body that wouldn't just make most men break into a sweat, but the sort that would invariably land its owner in deep water (as seems the case here).

As I watched her walk out into the driveway, something made me want to change my very way of life, maybe find myself a nice mamacita, settle down somewhere sunny, restore an old '68 charger, hell, maybe even raise a family.
As that last thought soured in my mind, I decided it probably had something to do with the size of her breasts.

And her car.

Ooh, fancy women, and fancy cars.
Truly, a match made deep, deep down in the fires of hell.

A Maserati, a worthy example of Italian opulence, and their skill with cars.
Under its hood, lay a 4.7-litre V8, twin-turbo, with a 6-speed gearbox,the works.

You know me, couldn't help but check.

I really would have loved to hear her roar, but my thumb was already pressing down hard on the detonator in my hand.




Man, I hate my job.