Tennis musings.

I'm watching Cilic hurtle towards losing to Del Potro. From whom he took the frist set. And he looked so comfy at the beginning of the second.
I do miss Ancic. These new ones aren't quite the same. Djokovic is a brooding, sulky young man, and Nadal wears ugly clothes. Ancic was always well behaved, clothed in unoffensive colours and garments, and possessed of a lovely serve and volley game. Which fell apart on more than one occassion- but he was so pretty too. The makes up for many things.
Now Cilic is one of the few on the tour, who can still pull out a decent serve and volley game. I really want him to do that now. Or I'll be very annoyed that I stayed up till four to watch a match, and it didn't end as desired. Hmph.

Dinner at Agashiye

went to dinner with my father and some of his students. to a place called Agashiye. twas a most beautiful house, wood-worked and latticed, opposite a mosque, in a neighbourhood that bore an eerie resemblance to the cantonement area in bangalore. all very seventy-years-ago in feel.
with that lovely amdavadi breeze.
but the food. oh dear. i do not like sugar in my dal, and in my potatoes, and in my paneer, and in my moong ki sabji. no i do not. the rose flavoured ice cream was wonderful though.