April 30, 2007

The Return To Coorg

In our second Coorg jaunt this month (Hello! It was a different part of Coorg, ok?) we met certain fascinating people, and I’d like to introduce them to everyone around here:


1. Fiona the Labrador, pictured here: There was a time when “Princess Fiona Ugly” was the hottest Google keyword linking to this blog, and I’d deleted the relevant post and vowed never to mention her again, but what do you know? We run into this adorable lady with the histrionic skills that most Bollywood starlets cannot even hope to achieve. Ms Fiona hoodwinked my softie husband into feeding her his share of chikoos and then pretended she had not even tasted any when her owner walked by! He’d told us she’d eaten three already, so she wasn’t supposed to have any more. Also note that Fiona did not take very kindly to my singing to her, but then that is unremarkable because nobody ever does…

2. The priest bug: Ever since we landed in Coorg, we were assailed by something that looked like a cross between a bee and a “bhanwara” and this person muttered mantras under his breath and maniacally circled around me and the husband collectively, uniting us now and forever in the bonds of holy matrimony. For variety, it made “8” shaped loops around us, probably implying that the union had been sealed by it for infinity… In vain did I tell it that a pandit had already performed the rites, and that we had even got our registration form and were filling it for legal purposes in earnest…. We kept getting married for three days non-stop.

3. The punjabi bug: This gentleman was spotted near Irpu falls, which, by the way, is a beautiful place. It was unbelievable that something so tiny could look so flashy and make such a ruckus…you get now why we’ve dubbed it what we’ve dubbed it….We got this chap’s dhinchak audio on our videocam, and boy, it’s bugging!

4. The OINKs: These were the One Income Numerous Kids couples who were giving us company at the homestay. Let’s just say that because of me, none of these little ones got to sit on the swing, and they had to contend themselves with killing each other over a beach bucket and barking at Fiona. I remarked at the peace and quiet of the place: “This is DINK heaven”, to which the wise husband replied “DINKs are in heaven wherever they go!”

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