I already told you that I will not blame you if you think I make up these stories after my meeting with Carol this morning.

But check this out .

We arrived at the airport early (Nikita has a sick tummy), got all the boarding, immigration, security done and settled down at the Lufthansa Business lounge. I was wondering what to do with Nikita when thru the corner of my eyes saw this gentleman wrapping up whatever he was doing on his MacBook and started packing up his carry on bags.

Something about him stirred a memory cell somewhere in my head. I told Sharmila that he might be someone I know.

Took a chance and walked up to him and asked “Sorry if you find this weird, but are you Jagan?”. “Yes”, he said but kept staring at me. Obviously he could not recognize me. “Rajib Roy”, I said. He yelled out loud enough that everybody in the lounge stared at us!!!

His flight was leaving – I accompanied him to the gate, grabbed his business card and asked the person at the gate if he would mind taking a picture of us. I told him (having seen how empty the gate was) that I realize he might be the last passenger they have been waiting for but I just met him after 1989. The gentleman gladly obliged.

I came back to Nikita and the family thinking about our days together in the same wing (hallway) in our hostel (dorm) during my undergraduate days – so many soccer games, volleyball games, cricket games together – so many trips to the Taramani tea stall – so many hours of sitting and debating over completely irrelevant things…

That was 25 years back!!

Of the hotel – actually Lotus Cafe – at night…

The penalty for posting the fact that she bought three sarees last night is that she bought three (more) Indian dresses today.
By the way, I am aware of the phenomenon of chain reaction; however, we are scheduled to leave India in a few hours 🙂

All my friends from India undoubtedly know about this. Not sure that the concept is very well known among my US friends though. I also have a question for my friends from other South Asian countries or African countries – do you have anything similar in your rural societies?

While in my birthplace, I took these pictures to explain to my daughters what those near circular black ridged cakes were all about. I barely got to the part where I explained that villagers pick up cow dung by hand and mix it by hand when the girls got grossed out and put their fingers on their ears and started yelling “la la la la”. 🙂

We call them “cow dung cakes” or “ghNute” in our language. Made entirely from cow dung, it is essentially formed by village women collecting cow dung and then making small balls of them and then smacking them on to a wall or tree. The ridges are basically the impact of the fingers when it is smacked down. It stays on the wall or tree for a few days to dry up and then they are plucked out.

They are then used as fuel for fires that are lit up to cook food – pretty much like we use wood logs. I guess this is a great form of biodegradable fuel 🙂

Praying that the crow does not poop?

Eating crow?

Any funny suggestions from you?

I got my three things – sunlight, drink and a lounge chair. They got theirs – lounge chair, iPad and wi-fi 🙂