“Who do you think will win the men’s US Open title this year?”, he barks at me.
I am none-too-pleased at being drawn from my morning cuppa while catching up on the funnies in the paper.
“Why do you want to know?” I growl back.
“I need to know because I need to know.” replies Otto.
“Your guess is as good as mine.” I respond.
My dog, Bolshoi The Boxer, said to me this morning: “Botox and I are going to form our own super sports league.”
“Hmm…. That’s interesting.” I reply, sipping my ante meridiem cuppa tea.
“If the Indian cricketers can have the ICL and IPL, the hockey players, the IHL and the tennis players, the ITL, then us canines should have a league of our own.”
I had just stepped out of Bandra station after having climbed up and down the railway bridge. Globus, the retail outlet, were having a huge season-ending sale and I was in a tearing hurry to get there. All I needed was a rickshaw to get me to my destination. It was then that I noticed the ruckus.
A huge crowd was blocking the entrance and exit to and from the terminus. Cries of ‘Hai! Hai!” and “Down with cultural imperialism” rent the air. There were a few interspersed “Go Back”s as well.
I was irritated. “What the hell was going on? Was this my unlucky day?” I thought.