DAY 154

I like my country for the sheer variety of experiences that it offers me. It can make you laugh, cry, curse and surprise yourself 24/7.

At times in the mornings, you can see cows sunbathing in the middle of the old Airport road. And my heart swells with pride when I see the motorists going around the cows without missing a beat. Ah, this is India. I have also see foreigners' jaws drop when they see this and they keep repeating `How is this possible?' How can you let this happen? And the Indians look at the foreigners as if they are speaking an alien language. We are a very accommodating society. No matter what people say I like the `accommodating' part of our society. That's what has held this large nation of little countries together. Otherwise we would've disintegrated long ago.

Coming to this image - Every now and then I see these `Quack-tents' sprouting across the city. Little shacks that come up overnight on the footpath and street corners of this urban city. Once you part the dirty-muddied, velvet curtains and enter into the rugged-boudoir of the quack, they promise, to cure you of anything from "Dipression to weekneess in nurves to the your man-size to impontancy"

I find these tents hilarious. Whenever, I find one, I make it a point to stop and read their banners, because it is like a Laurel and Hardy show on a strip of cloth.
I am also fascinated by the optimism of these guys, who usually come from North India, travel for months together and pitch their tents in the middle of the Silicone Valley, confident that they will succeed.

Of course, I have not seen anyone enter the tent yet. At the same time, people pass by these tents without even batting an eyelid. They don't give it much thought. And the quack, usually with his wife and children reside in the tent for a week or so before they pack their bags and go in search of other pastures. But for that one week or so, from dawn to dusk, you can see the quack, sitting on a steel chair in front of the tent, hoping that he could make a quick buck on that day treating someone of their "impontancy" with the potions from his yellowed bottles. While the educated, suave urbanites pass him by - letting him be.

I lurve the quirky nature of this land.