Draped in servility, a big bindi of enslavement on her forehead, the mehndi of servitude on her palms, a mangal sutra (the mother of all married tokenisms) dangling from her neck...the urban Indian wife (hindu, more specifically) dolls up to fast and pray for her lord'o'master.

"I asked Jenny where the beer was and she said 'Just over the horizon, like my dreams.'"

"Yeah, that girl has a major case of Main Character Syndrome."