FTS

Dear Neville Shah is an ancient friend from Bombay. Right now, he's threatening to flag my blog for writing this post. Which is precisely what is egging me on to write it. Why don't my friends know me?

Anyway, so here's the story.

Neville has recently moved to Atlanta from Bombay to study how to effectively use words to sell you hair-oil. (For more about the pointlessness of words, stay tuned.) But, anyway, so a week before I was to go to the US, I asked him if he wanted anything from India. And he thought for a minute and said, yes, a mug.

Hmm, a mug, I thought. How weird. I didn't think I would bother.

Then he says, not a coffee mug. A bathroom mug.

Ohhh of course. I remembered instantly my predicament when I first found myself in a bathroom in the US. I wont go into details.

I bought Neville three mugs and mailed them to him from SF.

The story ends today when I ask Neville if he's enjoying the mugs. And I was thinking to myself how much he must value something as insignificant as a bathroom mug now. Nice lesson, no?

And of course, to quote Neville:

me: enjoying the mugs ?

Neville: u have no idea

me: haha

Neville: shitting is now a truly fulfilling experience

What else can I say.

Ok Neville, you can flag this blog now. But don't forget you owe me one for the mugs.