Shakira coming to town isn’t very exciting for me. Sure, I don’t mind her songs. Or more so her videos. And for sure, her hips don’t lie. When she gyrates them with that ferocious velocity, she means well for each and every one of us. The darling. I wonder how she got her name. Sounds like the name of an evil witchdoctor or rather a shaman. Shakira the shaman, with the power to summon tornados (as a tribute to all that gyration). And with her talented latino voice to match. Then, her coming to town would be very exciting for me. Cyclonic event even.
Scent of a woman. What a classic. People sometimes downplay Al Pacino’s thespian skills by claiming that all his roles are the young angry man routine. Bah humbug. Stupid critics. Italiano magnifico. Especially in the Godfather. I almost ran away from home and joined the mafia because of him. The Italian mafiaso in specific. Then, I heard its hard work clearing the entrance exam (what with the horse’s head and sleeping with the fishes) and as it was I had enough of such tests, so I decided to postpone my entry into the underworld for another time and place. (I’m thinking that if I ever do a banking study, then that would be a good time)
When I was watching the movie, I remembered that I haven’t met my old school teachers in a very long time. Or rather school teachers who will now be old. I haven’t met my school friends in a long time either. The doctor, the roadside romeo, the gin boy and the automan especially. Atleast I’m in touch and in reasonable knowledge of their whereabouts. Will be good to meet them and relive the good times. Like the imshi imshi with the English teacher in tenth. And the first time we saw Titanic in one of our houses. And how, much to the personal angst of the host, we rewound and revisited particular scenes. Ah, permissible immature adolescence, how I miss thee…
Only one more month for the retreat. For
Que sera sera,
H
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