Ponto de Vista

Ok, so this is going to be a shameless shill. Hold on to your coffee. And your mouse. After 7 months of battling the baristas in Barista and Cafe Coffee Day for soy milk and/or decaf coffee, I feel like I’ve finally found Nirvana. No, silly, I mean like heaven!

First, some stories:
1) I’m in Bangalore. They have a vegan shake on the menu, ergo, –> they have soy milk on the premises. I ask them to make me a mocha with soy milk. No can do. It’s impossible.
2) In Bombay, I ask for a half decaf-half calf coffee. The man looks at me like I’m speaking Swahili. He can’t do that. I tell him to freaking brew me a cup of caffeinated coffee and a cup of decaf. Charge me for two. Throw out half of each. Pour remainders in a cup. Barista remains unconvinced.

3) Back in Delhi, I ask for a decaf frappé. It’s not on the menu. The frappé is on the menu, decaf coffee is on the menu but they cannot combine the two.Good thing I didn’t ask for something “exotic”, like a decaf, double espresso soy milk cappuccino …he’d have swooned!

Enter UK chain Costa Coffee. Manna from heaven at this juncture. They substitute soy milk in ANY beverage. And decaf coffee too. And you don’t even have to beg. I’ve even ordered and (this is key) received a half decaf-half caf soy milk mocha. With a smile! 😀 This time, I nearly swooned. Costa Coffee, welcome to India. I heart you!

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.

Sometimes a little intervention helps, I guess.
Especially when you’re getting certain fluids tested…?

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.

So, while I do miss Trader Joe’s and biking along the Charles in Boston, the one thing I’ve found a good substitute for is the library. I actually patronize (that sounds awful) Eloor
which is beautifully stocked and really a pleasure to visit. The other day, though, I was surprised to find that the hole-in-the-wall library I frequented as a kid, daily (except on Mondays when they were closed, so I was allowed two books on Sundays,) had re-opened. As a 7-year-old I would ride to the library sitting side-saddle on the back rack of our Man Friday’s bike. By the time I was 11, I was deemed old enough to manage the 8-minute walk on my own. Displaying my OCD tendencies even then, I serially ploughed through all the Enid Blytons, Carolyne Keene’s, Franklin W. Dixons, Alfred Hitchcocks, Robert Arthurs‘s Three Investigator books (Jupitor Jones is responsible, I’m sure, for my obsession with business cards) graduating on to Sidney Sheldon and Lawrence Anderson. What was my mother thinking?? Nah, I’m glad she gave me free reign. Yes, I was precocious, but, hey, I knew stuff!! 😀 Oh and the 3L’s are: Live, Laugh, Learn. Cute, no?

After work one day, I decided to do a bit of shopping at Lajpat Nagar market — one of the largest markets in Asia — and on my way back at gloaming, my cycle rickshaw walla (whom I chose over an auto rickshaw since it’s environmentally sounder) decided to go the wrong way up Ring Road — only the busiest thoroughfare in Delhi! That’s the view over the rickshaw walla’s shoulder as I held on tight with one hand, continually gasping in disbelief that we didn’t get hit, head on!
I don’t recommend it. It’s hair raising to have cars, buses, and scooters (and random pedestrians dashing across!) aim at you and only just barely miss!

I was coming home from work in a drizzle when I caught sight of this! Only in India … eh? A man with a cycle rickshaw full of nude, waist-up, face-up mannequins. 😉