Last month, Ma and I traveled by train to Amritsar — my first train ride since last January, when V and I went to Agra (and I left a trail of vomit all over the city and station.) I did get a headache on the way back, but was still charmed by the fact that while the colors have changed, we still get served tea in thermoses on the Shatabdi. And a ‘tea kit’ with sugar, dairy creamer, a tiny stirrer and lots of sugar.
Next to each other, in Masjid Moth, two dry cleaners with names that compete for attention and your sense of humor. I go with the more prosaically named “the Cleaners” — not for their name, but because they have not only free home delivery, but also free pick-up. Yeah, baby, I’m living la vida local 😉 Go desi! It’s the best way!
Save your breath. You don’t have to say the whole word anymore — just go with pomengrade 😉 It tastes so good with ‘save” puri :wink;
The Nine “divine” days of Navaratri just finished. (I had no idea it comes twice a year, btw. Yeesh.) and there were a lot of poojas and such all across the country.
In Bombay and Kolkata, idols of the goddess Durga were eventually, erm, drowned, immersed in the sea with great pomp (holding up traffic madly). On the 10th day (Vijay Dashmi), in Bombay, at least the cars all wear a smile of marigolds. I have no idea why. And some shops and homes are wreathed in garlands, too.
This photo was taken in Delhi. Bhola Singh was up to his elbows in pretty flowers when we left. What fun!
So, early one Saturday, I went downstairs to get something and heard Meena, one of the maids, screaming from the garden to Anita the other maid upstairs on my floor to shut the balcony door immediately — there was a monkey on the parapet. Given that Anita is petrified of the dogs, Meena guessed right that having a monkey come in while she swept would not have amused her. So Anita shut the door. Meanwhile the monkey hung out and calmly watched all the chaos.
I can’t believe that such a huge wild animal is hanging out in suburban Delhi. Yes, we see them at tombs and in large parks but in congested, residential South Delhi? Anyway, I’m haunted by the thought of said visitor stealing my underwear which dries in the balcony he was just below. I’m not sure what I’d do if I found this chap in my bra and panties — let him keep them, I guess.
At the cinema in Vasant Vihar, security pretends to be strict. They make you check your bags (even laptops) at the chaiwala near by. The alternative is to skip the movie and wait for your friends or go home … so grumbling and exasperated, I checked it in for the princely (and not really confidence-inspiring) sum of Rs. 10. And when I went to pick it up I found a whole fresh batch of chai being brewed, ready to be served into these tiny, tiny cups. Oh well. I guess such a small quantity is good for somebody! (I need a much larger fix.)
This is an old photo…maybe 3 months old now. I’ve had it saved in a draft post since I took it because it’s just heartbreaking to write about. This little imp of a puppy hangs out at the dual ATM’s near my house. When we first met him, he was fuzzy and frolicky, as puppies are. The next time I met him, he had a huge wound on his head, but despite the dried blood and flies, he was in great spirits, gamboling, playing, wolfing down food. The watchmen and workers there were engaging with him, looking after the little cutie. Now, three months later, he’s sick. He’s lost his fur. His eyes ooze, he’s got fleas, he’s pretty wretched. And it breaks my heart. In Bombay there’s the Welfare of Stray Dogs that sterilizes strays and attacks the problem at the root, so to speak. I’ve been dying of guilt over this puppy. I should have called one of the animal shelters and had him fixed early on at least. And vaccinated. But this is my dilemma: should one even bother? It will sound heartless but is that really the solution? Should one actually just let them die out — as they surely will (in fact, as another sick dog down my street just did?) Wouldn’t euthanasia be a kinder fate than dying slowly once your cuteness disappears?
Leaving the church across my house on a Sunday afternoon was this foursome. They were just so cute, I asked if I could take a picture. And they agreed. So here they are: four to a bike.
Ok, so I’m romanticizing wildly and anthromorphizing, as well. But when it rains and rains and rains in Bombay, everything looks like it’s smiling. Well, to me. Erm, probably because I don’t live there 😉 and don’t have to deal with crazy commutes. This past week in Bombay was super cool. After having lived in cold, cold rain for 12 years, I was happy to go out and stand Titanic-style on the balcony every time it rained because it was so wonderfully warm. I’d nearly forgotten how lovely and refreshing and welcome rain can be.
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