In the morning women’s shitty perfume in the bus crowd gave me “hachee-haachee”.
on the way back it was drizzling. i bought sweet corn. hot. straight from the pot. somebody told me that they are imported ones. i don’t know. wanted to eat the charcoal- burnt or fried whatever corn, with its rustic smell and wanted to make a doll out of the pale green peel to hang it on the window bar of a dusty, red bus.
here, under a tree, a middle aged man is standing with his pine-apple cart. i thought of buying one of the pine-apples, but i had no money left as i gave it off to the corn seller. but a young man stopped his bike near the cart and i don’t know whether he bought it or not.
near the park, a slender man was talking over phone and i heard him saying “chappal se chappal lekar maaro usko”. i turned back to see his expression and he gave me that suspicious look that usually people give, while they notice a stranger listening to what they are saying. i have this disorder called curiosity syndrome.
i didn’t want the rain to rain.
electric diyas were lit all over their compound wall. shadows of leaves were moving as if they are going to die. there were real diyas where i had been staying alone, and there were real people too on the street.
i saw a boy wearing paris t-shirt. i am not going to pray for paris. i don’t want to pray for those who boss over and pretend. i am not going to pray for a limping pomeranian dog on the sreet, while the government is killing stray dogs widely. i am not going to cry for that dog’s front-leg limp. but i loved that Charlie Hebdo cartoon on IS attack on paris where champaigne is pumping out through the bullet holes. Charlie Hebdo is brilliant. i met men on the road and imagined beer and alcohol, neat or diluted coming out of the holes all over their fragile, pretentious, made-up bodies. that may help them to be less adamant.
the cartoon that mocked Russian plane crash in Syria provoked russia and now russia is having ties with france to fight the jihadis. ha ha! but tell, who made them jihadis.
i felt sad for people misread Hebdo’s cartoon on Syrian kid Ailan Kurdi.
i think cartoons all over the world must mock indian prime miniser modi. at least once.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------for most of the big big countries, giving shelter to refugees is like the way i kept left over roti once, near the book shelf for three days. red ants came to have it for three days. may be many generations of ants. and on the fourth day i crushed the entire foil and dumped it in a waste bin.
