Water

No matter how many resolutions I make to maintain consistency in the publication of my posts, I seem unable to avoid at least a three month break from any sort of writing once a year. I am at a loss to explain why. It may be because of the foul weather and the fact that I am too busy changing my clothes several times a day. A month back, these daft blokes in the BMC were talking about water shortages. Water shortages my left foot! Just send a couple of workers to give my T-Shirts a good squeeze ten times a day and you'll collect enough water to satisfy the Mankhurd slum. Or at any rate, as much water as the Mankhurd slum deserves.

I fail to understand why we human beings have evolved so pointlessly(Take that, Dawkins, Darwin and the rest of you chest thumping evolutionists). Sweat does not evaporate after the humidity has exceeded a certain figure; no evaporation means no cooling mechanism; therefore we remain as hot as we were before we started sweating and as a result, continue to sweat more! Damn stupid if you ask me. The solution would be to have the sweat glands evolve NOT to belch out saltwater when the humidity crosses that threshold. Given that human skin was so quick to turn black when the excessive hair fell off and so quick to turn white when confronted with ice and snow, one would expect this little adjustment to not be too much trouble for Homo Sapiens Sapiens. Unfortunately, it is.

However, earlier this year I was in Rome, Florence, Vienna and Salsburg. I encountered no such problems there. The weather was absolutely beautiful; I could have used the same clothing for my entire stay. This may be one reason why the average European does not undertake the daily shower/bath that we Indians cannot do without. This European habit, however, is not valued by everyone. There was a Prince Archbishop of Salzburg in the 16th century named Marcus Sitticus who apparently enjoyed trick fountains and drenching unsuspecting people. One such trick fountain was at his dinner table; there was a fountain outlet on every seat save Marcus Sitticus' own. At a time he deemed opportune, old Marcus would press a little button and royally drench everyone's behind. They find it very funny in Salzburg that the man would play a trick like that, but with my Indian background I think I have an insight into Marcus' mind that most Salzburgers lack. I think Marcus Sitticus had an ulterior motive. Some things are just not meant for dry cleaning, if you get my drift.

Anyway, today is the Bandra Feast and in hours we shall have the Bandra fair upon us. I have been rather slow to develop Bandraphilia(as compared to the rest of my neighbourhood) but after returning from Europe and witnessing Aamchi Mumbai afresh, I am convinced that this once sleepy village is the only place around Bombay worth living in. Hope it remains so forever and a day. To all my fellow Bandraites, I have two words for you: Happy Feast.

And to all non-Bandraites, two words for the next week : STAY AWAY.