SOLD

All I can say is, read it.

Prose, pain and pathos.

Here's an excerpt:

"MATHEMATICS

In the village school we were taught to add, subtract, multiply, and divide.

The teacher gave us difficult problems, asking us to figure out how many baskets of rice a family would have to sell to buy a new water buffalo. Or how many lengths of fabric a mother would need to make a vest and pants for her husband and still have enough for a dress for her baby.

Here I do a different set of calculations.

If I bring a half dozen men to my room each night,and each pays Mumtaz 30 Rupees, I am 180 Rupees closer each day to going back home. If I work for a hunderd days more, I will surely soon have nearly enough to pay back the 20,000 Rupees I owe to Mumtaz.

Then Shahanna teaches me city substraction.

Half of what the men pay, goes to Mumtaz, she says. Then you must take away 80 Rupees for what Mumtaz charges for your daily rice and dal. Another 100 a week for renting you a bed and pillow. And 500 for the shot the dirty-hands doctor gives us once a month so that we won't become pregnant.

She also warns me: Mumtaz will bury you alive if she sees your little book of figures.

I do the calculations.

And realize I am already buried alive.

-

See

>:-( Hmphf

Do you have those days when you're angry and upset with everyone and everything (And, NO, this is not a question, its a bleedin' statement). Well, its been a long month of such endless days.

So here's a half-hearted sort of attempt at 'looking at the bright side' and all that cliched blah blah.

Good things:
- Friends who keep in touch, no matter how weird you act. God bless you!
- Unexpected emails which make your day and make you daydream.

Now am going to breath in and out slowly (does that work for anyone??), shut up, and retreat back in my mind.

Imperialists and dreamers

Rory Stewart is of middle height, lanky frame, with slightly long hair, and the last time I saw him, he wore jeans, a white shirt and a long black coat. Rory Stewart is a 30 something former British diplomat, who, not too long ago, held the position of Deputy Governor of a region of southern Iraq. (.. trying my best to ignore the 'neo-colonization' blinker flashing across the mind...) He is also the author of a book based on his solo trek around Asia, including through the conflict-ridden Afghanistan. Rory Stewart is also a glib talker, as glib diplomats go. I heard him speak at a panel discussion about a year ago. And it was not difficult to visulaise him in the role of the young governor/diplomat, imperialist overtones notwithstanding. He speaks the way I wish I could, as do most young people who dreamed while growing up, of being revolutionaries-authors-Presidents-adventurers-archealogists-pirates, all rolled into one. He articulates scenarios with oh so impassioned words but with an expressionless face, - cliched diplomacy at its best. And, Rory Stewart, now an ex-diplomat, is currently working in Afghanistan, on restoring/ preserving old Kabul architecture. To sum it in a sentence, Rory Stewart is the modern-day real-life version of the fabled adventurers mentioned in many an adventure book. And, one of many examples why 'too busy with life to follow that dream' seems like such a feeble excuse.

Here is the link to a recent article about the architecture preservation work he is doing, and an older and more general one on his various stints.

The picture is taken from The Telegraph article linked above.

Lesson # 1

The weekend fast aproacheth. Hence taking a cue from Three Beautiful Things, and meandering off in my usual style, here are Three Lessons Learnt, from last weekend:

1. After one-two-many, no matter how slow one speaks the words slur. In fact, the slower you speak the more elaborate and in-slow-motion cometh the slur. Solution: Keep mouth (and mind) shut, after three drinks. Good luck with that one though. Lemme know if it works. (Uh what did you ask..right..yeah we are working towarjeuq..I mean towardashddud, well towaaaasd..oh well see its better if yo cals..yo cald.. me on my office number over the week, here's my carth..well, here is half of it anyway..let me see if I can find the other half in my bag somewhere..(take a big gulp of the drink to drown the sheepish smile..and walk off))

2. Never buy ciggies when plans for 'a quick drink' are afoot. Because, you'll be too out-of-it to recall what happened to the yet unopened packs. Hint: left it on the table. That could be any table - in a pub, restaurant or somebody's house, but usually its a table. (Drat! Both the packs were unopened, AND I left my lighter.)

3. Giving the DJ repeated dirty looks is NOT going to change the music. Hint: a) change the venue b) have another drink.

Venues: Shalom, Stone, T's house
Drinks: Lime Margarita, Blue curacao margarita, Kiwi margarita, G & T with bitter
Food: Some sort of ridiculously small but exorbitantly priced mezze platter. Taste: don't recall!

Happy weekend all. Esp, S in W (jetlagged (but happy) I bet!), I in G (I know doll, will email soon), S in the outskirts on one side of the city (happy treadmillin), J in the outskirts on the other side of the city (c u tomorrow..been a while), and S almost in the neighbourhood (don't think, just eat).

Sonnet # 22

And this; is simply beautiful..

My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain;
Thou gavest me thine, not to give back again.

- William Shakespeare

The proverbial bright bulb or a whiff of cool air

'PM flays cancer of power theft'

The headline just caught my eye, barely, but it did. It seems our dear PM is out on an ethical drive. What with the recent 'To do' suggestions to the CII, - point No.1 (on 'profit marginalisation within the limits of decency and greed', or as some punters stated 'obscene salaries') of which, was promptly rejected by the industry the next day. At least the dear man is trying. With politicians, making sense of even simple statements leads to mucho head scratching, if not outright banging of the head. MS is well educated, has a small family, AND has no criminal complaints filed against him. Hurray, a ray of hope. Although, the issue of him fighting elections from his 'home' state of Assam, where he apparently resides, is a bit of a puzzle. But thats for a later date. Today is for some sparks.

So what did this news report remind me of?

May is almost over and thank the lord that with the showers every couple of days, it has been bearable. But the sun is nevertheless glaring down. In this heat, on my room, in second floor, there is no air conditioner. Yup. Un-f*****gbelievable but true. The landlord neither allows the tenants to put one, nor does the deed himself. The pure and simple reason being the old-fashioned tampered meters in the house. So, the offer to cover all costs, offer to go to elec. dept., offer to drive him to the elec. dept. etc. etc. have all gone to nought (or to coin a new phrase ' have drowned with the Davy Jones'!). A series of discussions, arguments, pleadings, poutings, etc. have led to a sweaty standoff. But what is interesting is the progression of excuses. Here is a sampling:
1. Yes, we will put an ac.
2. We have not had free time.
3. No electrician is available.
4. Waiting for the known electrician.
5. Electrician said it is not possible to put an ac.
6. It is too expensive.
7. Electricity department needs an application for ac installation.
8. Waiting for electricity department to get back.
9. We have guests from abroad.
10. We were ill.
11. I have to talk to the electricity department.
12. Electricity department orally said no.
13. We don't want to show our meters to the department.
14. New meters are too expensive.
15. New meters run too fast.
16. Wiring is too old.
17. Wiring cannot be replaced
18. House is too old.
19. House will burn down.
20. No.

Hmm..what can I say. Are his lies and stealing elec. what makes him a bastard, or is it also the seven-year old kid working as a domestic servant in his house? Does it really matter. This is the state of an educated, 80-something couple, earning about 30,000INR just in rent from one of their properties in Delhi. So, is it even worth tuh-tuhing to the cleaner earning about 4,000 a month who attempts to steal power from the neighbourhood cable off and on. Lets sweat over it. (and no, I don't mean that in a nice way).