June 5th, 2008


This is going to be...purple prose....

Yesterday I saw what I thought was the Purple Sari Club on their annual convocation....


I went up to them and asked them who they were, but they were very evasive. First someone said they were all domestics in someone's house; I was pretty impressed that all of them had been given uniforms, even though I might not have chosen the same colour...then another one said they worked "somewhere else" and were having a meeting....aha, the workers of the world (at least the purple-clad ones) are rising against the corrupt capitalists?

They carefully stopped talking until I left the scene! I am full of curiosity now about who they are, and what they were discussing...

Flay me alive....!

What happens when you whip butter (not cream)?

You get....


"Flay" as a verb is very much part of Indian officialese English. The opposition is always "flaying" the government for doing something wrong.

The only other time I have heard it said is when a neighbour of mine, who could not pronounce his "p"s but made them into "f"s, told me that his grandson had "fut on his fants and gone to flay."