15 minutes of fame

Which is really not a lot when you think about it. I have about that same number of minutes to kill before heading out for dinner to flaunt another 40 year old. Thankfully, cultural and gender sensibilities combined with the cheap thrill of being 39 to Velu's 40 for 24 days, render this one amicable about the event. Sadly, I can think of nothing to do in these 15 minutes that would catapult me to the levels of obscenity that fame entails. I could ponder responses to some client emails, but then that would just be efficient. I could change into something more glamorous, but that would make all dressed with nowhere to go and another 14 minutes to kill. Or I could try and focus on the blog, ignoring the pitiful sounds of my stomach begging for mercy. Hmmm. Could my insatiable appetite be the chokehold on an otherwise glittering road to celebritydom?? It is difficult to focus on strenuous ambition when one is so easily distracted by one's conditioning. Explains why Bengalis aren't known for front page grasping vulgarity. Shorshey Ilish runs in our veins and is notoriously unbecoming on the red carpet :p