Sunday, July 17, 2011

Post-dated: Interns' Night in the City


My friends interning at fancy-schmancy (Fortune 500) companies have spent all summer regaling me with stories about the four-hour working days, glitzy Macs, and pay packages that would make a grown man working professional jealous.

Well, I didn't get any of that.

I did, however, get a chance to be adopted by the (flamboyant) saviour of the AIDS-stricken world, more than my fair share of good food, and the coolest bosses by far. Heck I even got to go dine (and drink!) with them. They shared with me one of those well-kept Delhi secrets only people who know, know. And here I am, sharing it with you. Aren't you lucky.

Tandoori Chicken

The Delhi Golf Club, where you get the softest seekh kebabs I've ever eaten, the yummiest stuffed potato flatbread (aloo da kulcha to all Punjabis), and wonderful company. More pictures some other time. I'll just leave you with these polaroids and one picture of a piece of tandoori chicken that looks a little lonely, showing just how much (and how well) we ate.



On another note: due apologies for the delay. I've been meaning to post these since last week, but the flu gods were conspiring against (or maybe I should say with) us this week. Our entire extended family (of ten! two grandparents, two sets of grandchildren, and a middle layer of assorted parents) has been bedridden, in shifts. Our own private hospital ward, where the nurses switch roles with the patients. We're not playing happy families, we are one.