Of Zulu boys and yogic faloodas

I HAVE put on a bit of weight these past six months. So many 50th birthdays and 30 divine iftaars. Somehow fat-free and falooda does not make a good alliteration.

June babies Sammy, Sherman and Ray are the latest to qualify for the 5% pensioner’s discount at my beloved Bangladesh Market in Chatsworth. Ageing or not, they look naughtier than their mating parents were in the spring of 1967.

Birthday parties mean, of course, long speeches. I gnawed through a half-dozen cold potato samoosas and a polystyrene tub of chevda while being told: “Yes, we praise women over

50 for a multitude of reasons. Unfortunately, it’s not reciprocal.

“For every stunning, smart, well-coiffed hot woman of 50-plus, there is a bald, paunchy relic in yellow pants making a fool of himself with some 22-yearold girl.”

Well, the boss lady wasn’t referring to me. Thanks to a liberal lathering of coconut oil since birth, I still have all my hair.

In between the birthday jols, I have squeezed in a small mountain of books.

Local lad Bhekisisa Mncube’s The Love Diary of a Zulu Boy makes for some raucous reading. Our mutual friend, author

Fred Kumalo describes the book as: “… a potent alchemy, a swirling together of matters that are the hallmark of serious literature: good and evil, sex, love, friendship, morality, happiness and suffering, heroes and villains … and, of course, the old South African chestnuts – race and identity”.

Past lovers have been furiously paging through it to see if they get a mention.

Knowing Mncube rather well, I can tell he has missed a few.

Feminist soldier Zainab Priya Dala’s The Architecture of Loss was published to rave reviews in the US and India, but alas there are only a few copies floating around locally.

She recently nipped back from Istanbul after negotiating a Turkish translation. Talk about being a prophet in your own village.

Micromega Publications has just brought out Yunus Amir’s stellar short story collection, Colours of Life.

Hats off to the publisher for investing in our local writers and dropping this scribe a review copy. Delectable radio and television personality Iman Rappetti, is on the launch circuit, too, with Becoming Iman.

The salacious teaser on the cover describes it as an adventure through rebellion, religion and reason.

A little birdie whispered that storyteller extraordinaire Gcina Mhlope would speak at the launch of Vimla Naidoo and Sahm Venter’s edited book, I Remember Nelson Mandela, at the South

Africa in the Making exhibition at the Moses Mabhida Stadium later this month.

I took a sneak peek and can assure the willing buyer that it is a historical and emotional feast.

To all of you gallant men and women who are fathers to children, I raise my falooda in salute.

Hopefully, my theatrical performance at this morning’s International Day of Yoga will shave a few slivers off my belly.

Higgins promotes #Readingrevolution through Books@antiquecafe in

Morningside and can be found on the First Sunday of every month at the Durban Book Fair in Mitchell’s Park.