These are my drugs. Three tiny alcohol-and-something-else-soaked sugar pills for my allergies to dust, pollen, and, well, Delhi 😉 It could be a placebo effect but the hay fever and sore throat symptoms have decreased dramatically. Yay for placebos and alternative medicines. Yay to not being hooked on allegra.
The building I work in (Videocon Tower)Â is the biggest eyesore in Jhandewalan. (I shan’t say anything about the giant Hanuman mandir here.) It’s visible from nearly everywhere; we just steer towards it when we’re driving to work. It’s also visible from a station away on the Metro. I took this photo on Saturday evening from the Metro stop. As I blithely stepped away editing it on my phone, I heard someone calling “Medem! Medem!” Yep, I was being pursued by a security guard who forbade me from taking photos in or of the station and demanded to see all my photos. So I happily started walking him through the photos of roadside temples, doggies fighting, and he let me keep my VT photo. 😉
I guess we do live in a digital age. But, but, but … shouldn’t they only be binary 1’s and 0’s?? Anyway, here are some Bittoo Digital Candles for your birthday cakes … 😉
Thursday a.m., amidst the papers, leaves, dust, and plastic bags in the garbage-collector’s tricycle was this bright yellow box for an “Electric Guitar”. As I got closer, I nearly choked.
The tag line in red reads: Experience the sweetness feel to flying the music sea. (click on the photo to zoom in)
I can’t contain my giggles every time I look at it. 😆
Yesterday, a chapter closed on the long-drawn saga of my elliptical machine. Three weeks ago, when I started looking for gyms I found they had all been sealed — i.e. the police had shut them down for operating out of residences. (Idiots!) So I did some research and found that the cost of 5 months of membership to one of these home-grown gyms pretty much equaled the cost of a mid-level elliptical machine (the only machine I do at the gym b/c of my feet.) After some serious comparison shopping, I found a good deal and paid an advance to have it sent to my house. That was more than two weeks ago. The piece “got stuck in customs,” had “trouble unloading,” “got stopped at the border,” and finally made it to Delhi, I’m told, but for some reason the dude had stopped answering my calls. Finally, I got him to commit (and that word is always used very loosely around these parts) to a time. Three more commitments later and many hours spent waiting and rearranging plans around the estimated drop-off time, I finally called off the deal and went to get my advance back. (I don’t know why I really expected the chap to show up at the time he said he would, honestly. I’m so naive sometimes.) And instead of the black model I’d chosen, I had to opt for this devilish red, flamed one instead from another vendor because it was in stock. And surprise, surprise! It actually showed up at home as promised, when promised!
In Jhandewalan where I work, there is a giant Hanuman temple. Hanumanji stands about 6 stories tall and he carries Ram and Sita in his heart. Literally. He also seems to be standing on a demon he has killed and the entrance to the shrine is through the open jaw of the slain villain. (Truly.)
Someday soon I will make a video of Hanumanji, who is a bright, glaring shade of pink, in order to show you how, when you press a button — voila! his arms part from their namaskar and the golden pair of Ram and Sita come out of his heart! (Think “Celestial Cuckoo Clock” to get the right image in your mind’s eye.)
Anyway, the back side of Hanuman (with scaffolding) is visible from the Jhandewalan Metro statio. I took this photo at dusk from the inbound platform as my train pulled in. (March 15, 2007)
In South Ex market, I spotted the chhuri-sharpening guy — sharpening knives with his self-powered bicycle tool. Pretty cool, eh?
Certain canines move in higher echelons than even we do… Here’s one that’s being driven somewhere in air-conditioned comfort…
I learned recently that the US and India have agreed on a trade – Mangoes in the US for Harley Davidsons in India.
The first South Indian mangoes are already in Delhi. Red and green on the outside, golden orange and pulpy inside, they are divinely sweet.
Mmmmmm
mmmmmm mmmmmm mmmmmm.
Here’s a description of some varieties that India produces. And here’s the Press Information Bureau of India’s scientific take on the nutritional properties of the incomparable mango: “Good mango varieties contain over 20 per cent of the total soluble solids (sugars). The acid content of ripe dessert fruit varies from 0.2 to 0.5 per cent and the protein content is about one per cent. Mango is also considered to have medicinal properties. The ripe fruit is fattening, diuretic and laxative. It helps to increase digestive capacity and the brain power.” 😉
One achy week, I asked around for a recommendation for a massage. I have been fascinated with the idea of an ayurvedic massage — of hot oil infused with herbs that are purported to heal you inside out — since my mother tried to get her bum thumb cured 😉 Tripti recommended the Sivananda Center, an ashram for yoga and meditation that also offers Kerala massage. On Saturday, right after a very delayed lunch (I don’t recommend this schedule if you get a massage) I went to East of Kailash and was then stripped and put in a langoti (for lack of a better word) and massaged down with hot, hot oil on this bizarre, slippery table that you see. (I snuck a photo when she left me to change back into my clothes). Afterward, I was shut into the little cupboard with the holes you see on the left that is attached to a pressure cooker (Yes. Really. Look!) and with my head sticking out and the rest of me inside the cupboard, I was steamed till I thought my internal organs were nearly cooked. Then I took a shower in the adjoining bathroom.
The massage left me somnabulating, and dying for a nap. It was relaxing but it hadn’t done much for the stiffness in my hip and my shoulders. But then, not much does …
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