How absolutely delicious!
Trees liberated from dust and other decadence… cool mud roads beneath my unshod feet…birds chirping in rhapsodic harmony…the neighbour’s annoying cockerel crowing (off key at all times of the day) his gratitude to the Heavens above…frogs flirting around the numerous puddles.
I even managed an invigorating bath in my personal swim pool☺
(Must thank the local Municipality for leaving those potholes be…must’ve anticipated their utility during the monsoon. How immensely thoughtful and kind!)
My Pot-Hole-Halli even smells different. Now I know what old Mangy Mad-Dog meant when he said that Bangalore smelt different in his youth. Albeit, his ability to ‘smell’ anymore is dubious, but I have missed, over the past two days, a certain, ‘je ne sais quoi,’ whiff that usually accompanies my every breath.
At first I worried that the new smell, or rather, lack of smell, was unfamiliar.
And then, I rejoiced in its unfamiliarity. It’s rain-washed clean Garbage!
I can now see what these omnipresent piles of Garbage are comprised of. A Eureka moment indeed; paper, glass bottles and bulbs, broken plastic thingummies, scraps of cloth, Chinese takeaway cartons…yummmm, I salvaged a whole Chicken Schezwan thighbone from that cardboard/plastic eruption.
Makes for an enjoyable pastime…rummaging through the garbage for collectibles. All in one, big, veritable treasure heap. I’m so happy☺
Lungada from down the road wasn’t as lucky. No flavoursome Schezwan for him…just a lethal empty plastic milk-bag. Poor Lungada thought he could suck the bag for lingering dregs of milk, but ended up choking his way towards the Light at the end of the Tunnel. Luckily, before he could embrace the Light, a Good Samaritan rushed him off to the doctor on a motorbike.
Hmmmm…Motorbikes…
(Big Boy’s Bucket List: Acquire Motorbike before Mid-life crisis)
So, apart from being lame, and after enduring painful surgery on his windpipe, Lungada now sounds like an aspiring-but failed-Violinist. Painful eh?
Humans, watch out for fatal weapons amidst your garbage, although, I do understand how forgetful you might become after the scorching Summer takes a toll on you.
Speaking of tolls…the Sadahalli-Bellary Canine grapevine has it that Sallakutha, a peaceful immigrant from Bihar was seriously injured during the People vs The Government Authorities toll protests.
Poor curious Sallakutha, sniffing around the imposed traffic gridlock, fell victim to a frustrated commuter’s anger. Sallah is now in critical condition and may leave behind a grieving mate and three young boys.
Humans…I get your horror about being over-tolled to travel a road that boasts fewer potholes (or none) than my beloved Pot-Hole-Halli, but my Granddaddy always said, ‘You don’t fight fire with fire’…or maybe it was Mangy Mad-Dog who said that. (I haven’t a clue about who my Granddaddy is.)
What ever happened to Ghandhism? Is it as obsolete as Recycling then?
-Big Boy