The bartender here makes a nice Mojito. You must try this out. It has just the right tang of mint and the mixing is very good. While here you must also try the Fajitas. They have a decent offering of Indian kebabs as well.
While I was tucking in to the Sheek Kebabs and washing it down with my first Mojito there was some activity near the bar counter. Two, they can be best described as, Bimbos were holding a mike and began screaming into it. Amidst the high decibel din, it took me ten minutes to figure out that they were asking dapper men to walk up to them and be a part of a contest. My back was to the bar, so I did not see them then, but the fact that they kept exhorting the masculinity of whatever few men there were in the bar, it appeared that they were not getting enough attention.
They were exhorting the men to stand up sic! and were promising the most dashing of us passes to a Mr. India contest to be held a few days later. One of them, she was on stilts, tip toed towards us. Gal threw a menacing stare at her (in the dark how she saw her expressions I don't know but women seem to have this telepathic ability) and she swiveled right back. If it was not for the pedestal lamp that she held, she would have turned a full circle and landed on her butt.
That's when I turned and looked at them. The one on stilts was wearing a kind of bright neon blue sock and not on her feet. Just as my eyes popped out Gal said that this was called a tube top. Apt term except that this tube was more like a medical catheter stretched wide and a girl's body inserted into it. I am sure it was made of strong stuff otherwise she would have surely burst out. Thankfully she was not speaking much.
The other one, who was trying her best to blow my ear drums away was wearing something even more peculiar. Denims and stilletoes are de riguer I guess but it was her top which was making everyone's tongues hang out. It was a full sleeved thing that, covered her shoulders but kind of ended just below her arm pits! It can best be described as Shrink wrapped Boobs. Even Gal struggled to describe this attire.
All in all it was an amusing evening in more ways than one. Geoffrey's is a good place to go to on a Thursday evening. The pic here is really a sample invite to a Mojito party. Throw one ! Be remembered !
Who is Galatea?
Has eyes like the ashes from last night's fire,
Flippant raven locks keep stroking your desire,
Laughter like the ringing bells of excited cattle coming home,
Voice like the whistling mountain-winds climbing higher
Fickle and quick witted, will hurt you like a stye,
With a mere handshake can look you deep inside
Knows where to go and knows how to get there.
She's nasty, she's alive, Is she real or just in my mind's eye.
Sunday was one of the most rewarding evening I have had in many years. As part of the Prithvi 
Theater festival they had invited Gulzar Sahab to recite some of him poems followed by dramatisation of some of his short stories Kharaashein.
Rest as they say is history. Whatever can be achieved in a lifetime he has already done in the thirty five years in the Indian film industry. His poetry has been composed as some of the most poignant songs. He was the one who wrote the still heart rending piece "Babu Moshay, ham sab upar-wale ke hath ki Kathputlian hain..." and then the tape runs out in Anand. He directed the landmark political satire Andhi in 1975.
Sunday evening was fortuitous. Got to hear some brilliant stuff from him directly. Some of the narrative that refuses to leave me is, 'In winters the lazy fog arrives and settles on tree tops and then refuses to leave for hours' The sheer ebb and flow of imagery was an experience in itself. Then there was one on how the reading habit ignored,
