Ramblings

I wonder
... what Mr Bean does for a living
... how a spic-n-span house like the one in Tom & Jerry can be infested with holes
... when in a fight scene, the hero and villain shatter earthen pots and squash tomatoes, who pays for the shattered pots and the squashed tomatoes -- the villain or the hero? Do the vendors go after them after the fight is over?
... if the hero goes back to look for his sunglasses, which he invariably throws away before plunging into the above said fight

I like
... the smell of a bookstore
... the smell of fish being fried at noon that wafts in from a neighbour's house
... the smell of first rain
... the smell of freshly ironed clothes
... the smell of a hundred flowers and fresh leaves as you walk by a florist's shop

I remember with nostalgia
... the afternoon spent under the mango tree at home, discussing Kahlil Gibran with a friend
... the late evening walk with a friend and someone special, wondering what he was thinking, wondering what he would say, wondering where we were headed
... the walk in the rain with a friend under one umbrella, unmindful of one half of me being drenched
... the Sunday sojourns with my mother
... waiting for my father's letters from Calcutta