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Saturday, March 12, 2011

HIGHLY EXPLOSIVE MATERIAL

As I was writing this post the other day, thousands of people were dying in Japan. I stopped writing because it was inconsequential compared to a massive earthquake, tsunami and people loosing their lives.  The post is actually about valuing life and the reminders I got along the way...

Reminder#1
I boarded a tourist bus headed to Jaipur(from Delhi). It was one of those big volvo buses; Images of Rajasthan plastered all over it. I sat in seat #1. I noted that the bus had a sizable crack that started at the base of the windshield and flowered into a lovely pattern at the top. I thought to myself "that's just great".

I gingerly sat in my seat. I shifted from side to side trying to find a comfortable position. This proved quite difficult as I was suffering from an acute case of "Delhi belly".  As icing on the cake, my monthly friend came for a visit(only women will understand how herrendous this was) and it felt like hobbits were attacking my couter. I self-medicated with about eight Pepto Bismal chewable pills(which turn your tongue black) and advil.

I eventually settled into my book and the musical horn of the bus as he drove at high speeds, overtaking everyone and narrowly missing other cars, buses and rickshaws coming in the opposite direction(I was used to this by now). More than half-way through the journey, the bus came to a screeching halt.  I lurched forward, a few people gasped. I look up to see that he narrowly(and by narrowly I mean a few inches) missed a stalled truck. The driver uttered some expletives in Hindi and started backing up. It was then I noticed the "HIGHLY EXPLOSIVE MATERIAL" label at the rear of the truck. I started to laugh(I'm sure the other passengers thought I was a nutter). But what else could one do?


Reminder#2
In Mumbai I ventured to the venerable Cafe Leopold's. It was very busy on the lower level so I was told to go upstairs, where I picked a random seat in the corner. I ordered a mango lassi and naan. I sat for a while, people watching. There was a window right beside me, from which I could see the lower level. I noticed a large crack in the glass. I traced the origin of the crack only to find a bullet hole. When my waiter came by I asked him about it. He told me it was from the Mumbai attacks.  I sat there staring at it for a very long time, thinking about the lesson, the fact that I randomly sat there and said aloud(to myself)" I get it".

I had many small reminders along the way. Like the day my ankle was swollen from walking for hours on end. I was annoyed by its  numbness and bulbous appearance. I looked out the window of my car and there was a man driving a scooter with a wooden peg for a leg. I stopped complaining. India taught me many lessons, all for which I am grateful.  

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