GOT A GOOD GARLICKIN'

"EEEEEEEEEEK (Or did I distinctly hear, 'LEEEEEEEEEEEK')," yelled my aunt, when she heard I'd started therapy that involved eating two garlic pods first thing in the morning. "Don't come to our house, please, we won't be able to stand near you!"

Ouch. That hurt. She meant, of course, "We can't stand you anymore".... "We brought you up with good Brahminical values -- no onion, no garlic in food. And now, you eat them raw, and whole!" I was ingesting fire, and they were spitting more at me.

But after three days of drawing energy from the scud, I wasn't going to give up. "It controls blood pressure. It fights cholestrol. And, I've been told it'll do wonders to my skin because it fights free radicals," and so on and so forth, I'd ramble, licking my wounds. I could see noses crinkle up with each argument, at the other end of the line.

Would they ever understand, I'd think, as I'd slam the phone down, what my poor mouth has to undergo each time I'd chew on the fiery vegetable? And if one wasn't enough with its accompanying blisters and burns, I had to chew on two, with the opprobrium coming free!

Everyone I knew and loved was going to be walking around with breath analysers. The 'Shubha B.G.' (Before Garlic) and 'Shubha A.G.' comments were going to flow in my face -- if they ever got near, that is.

Onions and tears, did they say? Sniff, sniff... Here were people who'd loved me with all my sins and flaws, podcasting me as a rank outsider. An untouchable.
A penny for my pods?

VENDORS - II

Some time back, I'd posted a picture of a flower seller on the train. Over time, I've discovered more creative pursuits that vendors on the train engage in.

THE GREAT ROBBERY

It must take superhuman courage to travel by train in India, no matter what the romantics say.
Whether in "developed" Mumbai or that miracle of existence, Bihar, journeys are pretty much the same, the trademark being half a toe hanging out of a running train.
I just consider myself very, very lucky that i don't jostle a million people for a micro-inch of space... I don't travel rush hour, you see.
So I get an inside-out view of peak-hour traffic: I stand pasted to the door when my train chugs into the station, and before it even stops, a few hundred women of all shapes, sizes and spiked paraphernalia attached to their beings rush in like there's no next nanosecond in existence. There are collective war cries, cruel, triumphant laughs on finding window seats, and blows and elbows rained in the direction of anyone who dares get in the way...
Some of them condescend to move half a centimetre to let me get out, but not before crushing my little toe under their sharp stilettoes. And if I manage to emerge, with me and my belongings in one shape, I have to dodge crazed men and women whose single-minded pursuit of the 5.03 local will put all decorated Olympians to shame. Their goal: crush all impudent creatures who come walking in -- heaven forbid -- the opposite direction. And if they can manage to brush past a girl who looks lost and helpless in all the madness, it's a day well spent.
And after all this -- don't get me wrong -- they physically force people off trains as a form of protest against "inhuman" travelling conditions.
Bihar, of course, is every existentialist philosopher's dream country. They can actually prove the 'Death of God' here.
The latest National Crime Records Bureau report says: "The Patna rail police jurisdiction alone accounts for 23% of all crimes on wheels committed throughout the country." The report says Bihar and neighbouring Uttar Pradesh account for 51% of robberies on trains. The two states top the list of train robberies, followed by Jharkhand, Madhya Pradesh, Maharashtra, Gujarat and West Bengal.
And what do the authorities there do? Blame each other, of course, silly.
Railway minister Lalu Yadav says the GRP of the Bihar government has failed in failing providing security to passengers. Bihar CM Nitish Kumar says: "The Railways is responsible for the rise in crime on trains."
Fools' paradise.