Just wasting time...

This little girl was blissfully playing with her own hands at the Kemps Corner traffic light, creating a little world of fun, all her own.

Dia

I met her at Tanah Lok temple in Bali. She was trying to sell me some colourful souvenirs with quiet desperation on her face. She had no time for my niceties. She was here to do a job. There are plenty of street children in India trying to sell me stuff, but Dia somehow tore my heart with her grown up almond eyes, neat ponytail, clean clothes and sling bag, translucent flawless skin and serious expression. I could not touch her on the head, as I read in The Lonely Planet that here the head is considered the home of the spirit, and it is very rude to touch it. So I just made eye contact and spoke to her gently, asking her to smile and then showing her the photo on my digicam. This somehow brightened her up, until she disappeared into the crowd of tourists, on a mission.

Of dogs and golfers with soft hearts

What you see is the most expensive grass that a golf course would have - "The Green". No one, and I repeat, no one is allowed to step on it without special golf shoes. And no one (except the caddie) could even dream of hanging out there while a golfer is putting towards the hole. But at Tollygunge Golf Club in Kolkata, the rules are different. Here, stray dogs are allowed, loved and welcomed everywhere.

Meet Julie, supposedly 18 years old. I watched her with my heart in my mouth, shuffling with her arthritic legs to The Green, and lying down there, blissfully soaking up the sun. A group of golfers were all around, and one of them cautiously started approaching her. Just when I though he would tap her with his golf club and prod her to go away, he... bent down and patted her with utmost care and affection!!! Julie is also the only dog allowed within The Shamiana - the open air cafe at the club, where players and guests can have tea, snacks or breakfast. She has her own little food and water bowls in a corner, and is a permanent 'fixture' around. She was sleeping peacefully one morning, until a table of elderly gentlemen (the type I would normally assume hate dogs) was served hot steaming omelettes and toast. Almost blind Julie woke up, smelled the air, and slowly limped towards their table. She stood there for good 5-10 minutes, patiently. Until one of the men lovingly cut a piece of omelette and gave it to her, patting her on the head for dessert. The fact is, The Shamiana was full, and everyone's table was laden with delicious treats. Why did she go to this table?

The next day at breakfast, I saw a lady giving Julie her daily dose of vitamins (!). She told me that on days when the kitchen is closed, she comes especially from home to make sure the old lady is fed and happy!

It would have been hard to miss a horde of small puppies running around. In the evening, the club staff secures them in an old concrete tub, and covers them with cardboard, so that the jackals which abound around the premises, don't eat them up at night. Someone is responsible for taking them out at the crack of dawn. And yes, "a doctor did come around last week to check out their skin disease, madam". And part of the watchman's duties is to make sure the puppies stay off the drive in alley of the club (which he demonstrated proudly, gently using a short stick).

Thought of the day...

I recently discovered an amazing blog by Janice, living in DC, a musician fascinated by jewellery. If you need something to spark off your creativity on a dull day, visit http://goddessfindingsjewelsforthespirit.blogspot.com/

I am grateful to janice for publishing an excerpt of one of my favourite books, Like Water for Chocolate, by Laura Esquivel:

“In 1669, Brandt, a chemist from Hamburg, was searching for the philosophers stone discovered phosphorous. My grandmother Morning Star, she was a Kikapu Indian, she used to say that we’re all born with a box of matches inside. We can’t light them by ourselves. Just like in this experiment, we need oxygen and the help of a candle. Except that in our case, the oxygen has to come, for example, from a lover’s breath. The candle can be anything: a melody, a word, a caress, a sound anything that pulls the trigger and sets off one of the matches, Everyone has to discover what will pull his trigger and enable him to live because it it’s the explosive flair of a match that feeds our souls. If there’s nothing to trigger the explosion, our box of matches becomes damp an then we’ll never be able to light any of them."

So what lights up your inner fire?

American Gangster follow up

I recently saw American Gangster and as I always get super excited about real stories, I decided to read up a bit more on Frank Lucas. And stumbled upon this amazing piece by a New York Magazine journalist who actually spent a whole day with Lucas and recorded his memories. A rare, mesmerizing insight: http://nymag.com/nymetro/news/people/features/3649/