Chapter 4

Everything is so close to my house that I can actually walk there, including the dry cleaners!
(Trichy-1, Tampa-0)

The dry cleaner in Trichy destroyed my brand new shirt!!
(Trichy- negative 5, Tampa 1)

Anyway, I did deposit my first paycheck into my bank account so that just about evens out everything. OK. Last time around I did mention smells. Now this is a pet subject of mine. Now as some of you may have noticed, my blog has a profile picture of me and its caption is, “The Nose”, for obvious reasons. Now, I must say that other than for being a conduit for all the nasty stuff my sinus keeps throwing its way, my nose, or rather my sense of smell, is quite keen. I usually happen to remember the smell of a place (memory for smells, any budding psychologists out there with an analysis?). And India is a veritable treasure chest. With so much pollution in most of the Metro cities you have to come to one of these tier B cities to realize what you miss. The smell of jasmine flowers sold by the roadside vendor wafting over you like a cool breeze, despite the late evening traffic. The smell of tea from the “tea kadai” early in the morning, making your stomach growl with anticipatory pleasure. The coffee “podi” shop, grinding freshly roasted beans, driving coffee-holics insane with its heady smell. Fruits by the roadside, incense and camphor from the local temple, the open gutter, sweat from the auto driver, chilli bajji’s, the salt in the air (if ur near the sea) and more recently the American sweet corn vendor with a distinct smell of its own (I have never seen these in America btw). There’s also the slightly antiseptic smell of the clinic as you walk past its open door, the rancid-sweet-dungy smell of the cow as its ambles past you swishing its tail and of-course, always the not so far away distinctly harsh smell of a “beedi”. And all this walking down one street. Many more to explore. Many more to be smelt! All of America would not have the smells of even one of these streets. All the cities there have the same smell. The sterile smell of nothing. I have begun to enjoy my walks. As life slows down you pick up details you otherwise miss while fighting traffic. Its worth it. A good break from life in the fast lane.

I can hear the local gurkha banging his stick and blowing his whistle (ha ha…that sounds like a b-grade film) as he patrols the streets below. And its only 9pm!!! These people need to get a life.

Alrighty then, more the next time. The last two posts have been more descriptive than humorous. On purpose. There is only so much humor one can muster up in a day and I ran through my quota early in the evening to keep myself from kicking the dry-cleaning lady. But hey, as the saying goes, “If the dry cleaner aint good, wash your own clothes fool!”

Comment and let me know if there are any smells you like, on the streets.

Hasta La Vista.