A vegetarian gori now next to me has moved! And while intitiably I was most unpleased by this development, there are it has turned out benefits. She is pale and homely, and she cooks her own kind food all time. Which, it is turning out, always curry.
I had no idea besonly that thinnish white females were fond of garlic, ginger, and the noble chilipods! How fascinating!
Plus spices. Was that tejpatta that reeked? Hotly sputtering sarson ka beetch? A lovely pair of coconuts?
She has promise. Perhaps I can vonvert her from no-lacto-eggo vegetarian to ghee-inclusive vegetarian. And then perhaps also the occasional bit of chicken. All men know chicken is two-legged vegetable only. It is only white people that consider it human. She will look more healthier if she eats better. Fracha, I tell you. Too thin.
Perhaps I should leave a big pile of laddoos outside her door. That, surely would go far to change her minds.
Big, oil, ghee drenched laddoos! Oh yes. It is the favorite of some big elephant deity what the hindoos venerate.
I can well imagine rolling around on an altar covered with white vegetarian neighbors and fragmented laddoos. Ghee stains, marigolds, and medical textbooks scattered hither and thon. Till at last we fetch up exhausted, though still fully clothed, next to either the steamheater in the corner or the airconditioning if it is warm.
Smell the milk solids, baby!