Diwali in Amreeka

Or at least, things you hear when trying to celebrate Diwali at the workplace in Amreeka.

On the kurta with jeans look I sported at work on Chhoti Diwali:

Colleague: That's an interesting combination of Indian and Western. Is that, umm, approved of in India?
Me: This is how I dressed pretty much every day in college.
Colleague: Really? Good for you!

On the kaju barfi I took to work, because I'm nice like that:

Whoa! What is that pretty silver thing on top? Isn't that, like, dangerous?

On the damn "omg photo of India from space on Diwali!!!" post that makes the rounds on Facebook every. single. year.:

Colleague 1: I love that photo! Why is it fake?
Colleague 2: Are you sure it's not real? I mean, you do have 1 billion people. It's possible!
Me: I'm pretty sure India doesn't even have enough electricity for that photo to be real.
Colleague 1: But it's always the Indians who post that photo.
Me: Yes, well, some Indians are idiots.

On the gorgeous Fab India dupatta I wore, gifted to me by S:

I'm beginning to realise your claims about your extensive and wonderful dupatta collection are not false.

Momentary rhapsodies

Dear world,

I would like to take a moment to rhapsodize over my new pairs of trousers. Because they're just that amazing.

They're stretchy and comfortable and fit perfectly (and in fact feel a little loose despite being my size so that makes me feel even better) and they were so cheap in the outlet mall I found them in that I bought two pairs - one black, one maroon. And I've owned them less than two days but I feel like I could alternate between the two of them for the rest of my life and be happy because they're just that amazing.

I heart Ann Taylor.

That's all folks.

Toodles.