miss maggie (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
bossymarmalade) wrote2008-10-30 08:52 am
bossymarmalade) wrote2008-10-30 08:52 am
Entry tags:
there are seven million of us!
Oh ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
tsamm!! I hope you had an excellent birthday yesterday, filled with all of the very best things -- charming tennis players, prim freshly-scrubbed detectives, and of course, Justin Variety Packs. *mwah*!
We had a lovely Diwali 'round these parts, thank you all for your kind holiday greetings!deepad's Diwali Party Post was adorned with ficlets from a small but dedicated group; check out copracat's Chuck story, spiralsheep's Sarah Jane Adventures, and Deepa's Parvati Patil story!
And here are the two I wrote, transplanted here for posterity.
festive
Toshiko brings her a pretty greeting card of Lakshmi, all gold foil and blushy pinks, and she and Ianto present it to Suzie with cups of chai for the three of them. No chai for Owen or Jack -- they don't care for it -- but Jack tells them all a long and only slightly eye-roll-worthy story about a Mughal dinner party he once attended that ended up with a contest involving (of course) Kama Sutra positions.
Suzie drinks her delicious chai, and props the card up on her desk, and explains very nicely to Owen what the Festival of Lights is all about. She makes a note to herself to pick up some gulab jamoon and laddoo when she goes out for lunch, because Ianto had seemed politely disappointed that she hadn't brought any sweets.
She'll bring them a big box, and share the syrupy, milky sweets around, and she'll smile and laugh and won't tell them that she hasn't celebrated Diwali since her mother died. She can hardly bear to think of the smell of the ghee-smoke, the sound of her mother's voice singing bhajans, the weight of the sari she only put on once a year. In a way, the Torchwood version of Diwali with mass-produced cards and Welsh chai and stupid ancient sex-stories is better, because it dulls those memories, gives her something new to concentrate on.
She might call her father. Suzie looks at the gold spilling from Maha Lakshmi's hand, the serene look on Ganesh's face, and thinks, yes. She might even do that.
----------------------------------------------
or a geodesic dome
"I'll have a yellow," Bart says, and Apu beams at him.
"It is not yellow, my ignorant cherished customer! It is a new gold Squishee, in honour of the colours of Diwali --" he draws a cupful with a flourish and gives it to the boy, whose looks of skepticism turns into one of horror as he sprays a mouthful of semi-melted slush everywhere.
Apu smiles and finishes, "-- and flavoured with refreshing clarified butter."
"I can't drink this!" Bart chokes, plopping the cup back down on the counter. Apu shrugs and pours the half-melted Squishee in the butter-topping dispenser next to the popcorn machine, and turns to Lisa. "And what will you have, little girl?"
"Er ... I think I'll try red," Lisa says cautiously as Bart furiously licks his own shoulder to get rid of the taste. She accepts the cup with a hopeful, "Thank you! And Ganesh's blessings!" before taking a cautious sip. Her face freezes and she makes a tiny hacking noise as her brother looks on, excited. "What is it, Apu?" he demands. "Tandoori sauce? Hot hot chillies? Cow blood?"
"No!" Apu says, irritated. "It's jalebi." Bart looks confused, then ventures, "... elephant blood?" Apu sighs.
"A traditional Indian sweet, soaked in sugar syrup," he says. "Your sister might find it a little *too* sweet for her." The two of them look at Lisa, whose pupils dilate as she squeaks, "I'm breathing jellyfish!" and then drops to the floor, kicking and giggling. Apu leans over the counter, alarmed, but she seems pretty happy.
"Hoo! We better let her work that off. And I better remove that flavour of Squishee before more non-Hindu children get bombayed on it." He turns around and Bart looks up from where he's guzzling red Squishee straight from the machine and goes, "wha?"
"Oh, that's it," Apu says. "I'm going home."
Manjula greets him with floury hands and her hair springing out of its braid, making a curly halo that brushes against him when he kisses her. "I just finished frying samosas," she tells him, "and there's channa and aloo."
Apu is frankly astonished. "But how did you manage?" he asks. "With the horrible little -- I mean, our joyous little bundles of joy running around?"
"Well," Manjula demurrs. She seems about to say something more, then just takes his hand and leads him to the little altar where their murtis are set up, and Apu sees his octuplets arrayed over the statues of Lakshmi and Ganesh. Each baby is nestled in one of each of the avatars' four arms, snoozing peacefully and without a peep.
For a moment Apu is flabbergasted, but then he just hugs his wife. They set out the diyas and prasad and perform aarti, murmuring their prayers, hanging flowers carefully on the statues. Before they sit down to eat, Apu takes a couple full plates of food and places them before the murtis.
"We already made offerings," Manjula says, puzzled. Apu nods.
"Yes, I know," he says. "But if we give them full fridge privileges, they might babysit for us again." Manjula goes, "aaaaaah!" as though this is the most sensible and clever answer, and Apu remembers all over again why he loves her.
------------------------------------------------------
And now, to look forward to Halloween! Yay!
tsamm!! I hope you had an excellent birthday yesterday, filled with all of the very best things -- charming tennis players, prim freshly-scrubbed detectives, and of course, Justin Variety Packs. *mwah*!We had a lovely Diwali 'round these parts, thank you all for your kind holiday greetings!
deepad's Diwali Party Post was adorned with ficlets from a small but dedicated group; check out copracat's Chuck story, spiralsheep's Sarah Jane Adventures, and Deepa's Parvati Patil story!And here are the two I wrote, transplanted here for posterity.
festive
Toshiko brings her a pretty greeting card of Lakshmi, all gold foil and blushy pinks, and she and Ianto present it to Suzie with cups of chai for the three of them. No chai for Owen or Jack -- they don't care for it -- but Jack tells them all a long and only slightly eye-roll-worthy story about a Mughal dinner party he once attended that ended up with a contest involving (of course) Kama Sutra positions.
Suzie drinks her delicious chai, and props the card up on her desk, and explains very nicely to Owen what the Festival of Lights is all about. She makes a note to herself to pick up some gulab jamoon and laddoo when she goes out for lunch, because Ianto had seemed politely disappointed that she hadn't brought any sweets.
She'll bring them a big box, and share the syrupy, milky sweets around, and she'll smile and laugh and won't tell them that she hasn't celebrated Diwali since her mother died. She can hardly bear to think of the smell of the ghee-smoke, the sound of her mother's voice singing bhajans, the weight of the sari she only put on once a year. In a way, the Torchwood version of Diwali with mass-produced cards and Welsh chai and stupid ancient sex-stories is better, because it dulls those memories, gives her something new to concentrate on.
She might call her father. Suzie looks at the gold spilling from Maha Lakshmi's hand, the serene look on Ganesh's face, and thinks, yes. She might even do that.
----------------------------------------------
or a geodesic dome
"I'll have a yellow," Bart says, and Apu beams at him.
"It is not yellow, my ignorant cherished customer! It is a new gold Squishee, in honour of the colours of Diwali --" he draws a cupful with a flourish and gives it to the boy, whose looks of skepticism turns into one of horror as he sprays a mouthful of semi-melted slush everywhere.
Apu smiles and finishes, "-- and flavoured with refreshing clarified butter."
"I can't drink this!" Bart chokes, plopping the cup back down on the counter. Apu shrugs and pours the half-melted Squishee in the butter-topping dispenser next to the popcorn machine, and turns to Lisa. "And what will you have, little girl?"
"Er ... I think I'll try red," Lisa says cautiously as Bart furiously licks his own shoulder to get rid of the taste. She accepts the cup with a hopeful, "Thank you! And Ganesh's blessings!" before taking a cautious sip. Her face freezes and she makes a tiny hacking noise as her brother looks on, excited. "What is it, Apu?" he demands. "Tandoori sauce? Hot hot chillies? Cow blood?"
"No!" Apu says, irritated. "It's jalebi." Bart looks confused, then ventures, "... elephant blood?" Apu sighs.
"A traditional Indian sweet, soaked in sugar syrup," he says. "Your sister might find it a little *too* sweet for her." The two of them look at Lisa, whose pupils dilate as she squeaks, "I'm breathing jellyfish!" and then drops to the floor, kicking and giggling. Apu leans over the counter, alarmed, but she seems pretty happy.
"Hoo! We better let her work that off. And I better remove that flavour of Squishee before more non-Hindu children get bombayed on it." He turns around and Bart looks up from where he's guzzling red Squishee straight from the machine and goes, "wha?"
"Oh, that's it," Apu says. "I'm going home."
Manjula greets him with floury hands and her hair springing out of its braid, making a curly halo that brushes against him when he kisses her. "I just finished frying samosas," she tells him, "and there's channa and aloo."
Apu is frankly astonished. "But how did you manage?" he asks. "With the horrible little -- I mean, our joyous little bundles of joy running around?"
"Well," Manjula demurrs. She seems about to say something more, then just takes his hand and leads him to the little altar where their murtis are set up, and Apu sees his octuplets arrayed over the statues of Lakshmi and Ganesh. Each baby is nestled in one of each of the avatars' four arms, snoozing peacefully and without a peep.
For a moment Apu is flabbergasted, but then he just hugs his wife. They set out the diyas and prasad and perform aarti, murmuring their prayers, hanging flowers carefully on the statues. Before they sit down to eat, Apu takes a couple full plates of food and places them before the murtis.
"We already made offerings," Manjula says, puzzled. Apu nods.
"Yes, I know," he says. "But if we give them full fridge privileges, they might babysit for us again." Manjula goes, "aaaaaah!" as though this is the most sensible and clever answer, and Apu remembers all over again why he loves her.
------------------------------------------------------
And now, to look forward to Halloween! Yay!
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
Apu smiles and finishes, "-- and flavoured with delicious clarified butter."
HHAHAHHAHAAHAHHHAAHAHA!
Additionally, remember when I used to say "ghee!!" when I meant "whee!!" and you were like "THAT IS CLARIFIED BUTTER" and I was like "SO?" and you were like "BUTTER!" and I was like "OK!" Good times, good times. :D
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
xoxo
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
YAY SIMPSONS OMG BART AND LISA FTW. And Apu/Manjula made me cry, THANKS EVER SO.
I want my babies to rest in the arms of Ganesh. *joy*
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
(happy belated diwali to you; our balcony is a mess from all the wax drips and smoke...)
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject