I came across this beauty scared stiff because a very ill-meaning man was trying to set a dog on her, but the dog just wouldn’t get it. Good for the dog 
Man and dog moseyed off and the cat finally uncurled her tail and then rolled around to get extra pats and cuddles, looking very much in charge of the carriage.
You know where this rickshaw is, in Mumbai, don’t you?
Oh and this one was taken with my new Samsung Nexus S which has no zoom but is pretty good, eh?
This actually says “The myth of youth guardian angel” and then the rest of the text says “enhance body energy; revitalizing to the skin” – 60 capsules made from the placenta of sheep.
Err. Right, then. The damn thing says “myth” and people still buy it? The elixir of youth based on not even a half-claim. If I remember right, these cost something like USD 100! Holy cow! Or sheep. Or something.
Behind Ta Prom in Angkor Thom, as my fellow travelers meditated on the incredible roots of the trees that have taken over the ancient temple, this fellow came along and perched on me.
I waited for a long time for him to get moving so I could capture how dazzling his iridescent his tiny blue/black wings were – but he flew too fast and in quick bursts which made all the motion pictures totally blurry.
He flew off and came back to perch on my finger three times in total – and I have no idea what made my finger so attractive. But there he was. And I wasn’t complaining about being so favored!
Fish massage (or “FiMassaa” in the patois spoken by the guys trying to tempt you into getting one) is quite a popular thing for tourists to try in South East Asia. In Cambodia, at the night market, we were accosted by a FiMassa guy. Sure enough, there was a white dude sitting on the lip of this inflatable swimming pool with tiny fish nibbling away at his feet. He merely smiled, albeit wryly, in response to my inquiring look. This poster almost made me sign up for a 5 minute session 
But then I guess I still ‘felt confused matter of me’ even after dinner so I didn’t.
Think I could have gotten the daily tour (good use of space, no?) for less if I’d gotten Dr. Fish at my heels?
Click the image for a larger, clearer picture.
In March, I visited Rani Baug, which houses both Mumbai’s zoo and the Victoria & Albert Museum, now the Bhau Daji Lad Museum in Byculla. We had such perfect timing, we chanced upon the albino peacock just as he unfurled his beautiful tail and tried to get the attention of the very coy peahen (visible on a perch on the left.) It was gorgeous! Very soap opera-esque. Yeah! Someone told me it’s all happening at the zoo We saw sleeping rhinos, a python, gazelle, neelgay, sambar, beautiful birds, including one of paradise – all with bad or no signage. The bird of paradise, an unusual red and green specimen was identified as a “mynah” – a terrible travesty.
The only decent sign we saw, however, was … audacious in its sheer stupidity. Click on the peacock picture to see the only sign of explanation
Is this bliss or is this bliss? I’m not trying to romanticize the life of this beast of labor or anthropomorphize this dude here but I caught sight of him recently at Warden Road and he was so striking, I had to stop and video him. I swear to you, he looked like he had hit hay nirvana. He was smacking his lips loudly and his eyes rolled back into his head. I think there was no doubt whatsoever that he was beaming to himself in sheer happiness. So I stopped to watch, and soon a small crowd of people had also stopped to smile at the bull and each other. Well, all except the bull’s maalik. Guess he hadn’t gotten to his own fodder, yet.
Heaven knows I have a backlog of photos to blog but fresh from a hectic eco/immersion-tourism trip to Orissa, I have a total Oriya hangover that begs to jump the queue. This is a frieze from the Sun Temple in Konark – where our tour guide shouted at us (just in terms of his volume, we figured he was unused to groups of only two!) I loved this dragonesque lion bullying the elephant. My trusty 6500 refused to work much of the time so all my cool photos of flaming Palash & simul, the baby goat I nearly ‘kid’napped, the baby elephant we played with at the Simplipal reserve, the Khairi river, sal leaf forests, the random-ass cups of *salted* tea I was continually served (grr) are all on the Samsung so cannot be posted here. We packed a lot into four days and I think I need a vacation from this vacation.
One of our dogs died Friday. We rushed her to the Bombay SPCA because it’s the only all-night vet hospital we know of. They treated her with a callous irresponsibility we are still raging against. She would have died anyway, she was badly hurt, but they certainly protracted our pain and hers (the subject of a complaint letter that has been circulated widely now). But what stays beyond to haunt me beyond my grief is the horror of the place. Remember how the Scarecrow in Batman visits upon someone an image of their deepest abhorrence? For me, this would be it. In an atmosphere of despair that sucks your soul dry, abandoned and sick animals cry all the time. Howls, whimpers, almost-human shrieks rent the night. Anyone with a brain and a heart would be tormented. I’m never going there again. p.s. please don’t post condolence comments.
In the streets of Mumbai, not only do Hindus and Muslims shiver in the same cold, but the cats and dogs seem to have come to some understanding as well. See, it’s all just dirty politics that serve to divide us. This was taken one cool evening near Bombay University as we traipsed around Kala Ghoda, drank ganna juice, gazed at Flora (you know … of Flora Fountain fame), marvelled at how green and velvety the grass looked under the fountain, and then stumbled upon this rag tag group sleeping near the homeless.
At least someone else other than me seemed more preoccupied with the rain than the firecrackers that took a short rest in the Ganpati immersion processions dancing by. It makes me sad – with the passing of Ganpati, the rains will also stop. The monsoon is really one of my favorite things about being back. After living through 13 years of cold, shivery rain – it’s a joy to be where the rain is warm. The rest of the murder was hunched up on the big banyan tree behind my new friend, waiting to dry off …
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