my own Malgudi


Part of a drawing made with J for his client. This is one of my favourites from the train series

The little town council posse that usually goes ahead of the MP came by tonight. We were working in J's office. But damn. We left the lights and TV on in our living room (ah, the lesson to be learnt about saving energy)! The doorbell, thankfully, wasn't working. Then from J's office, we heard their voices and slightly impatient knocks on our door. Five minutes later, I looked through the peep hole - and the folks in white were still there... giggling and taking photographs of our painted door!

Later we found the standard "Your MP was here" card tagged to the door, with the words "your door is very creative" scribbled across.

The next time J asks me if I was ever tempted by the endless fancy condo launches, I would consider adding today's (thwarted) visit by the provincial party cadre to my list of the many charms of village-living romanticised: our friendly neighbourhood electric appliance salesman (who hangs out after dark watching a beat up 14-inch TV at the old skool hair saloon); the inquisitive housewives who ask sly questions to try and find out what we do for a living; the noisy Taoist temple; last week's 3day void deck wedding party; the world's best BBQ wings; the bi-annual exodus of dying cockroaches from the rubbish chute; the funerals that peak in the hot months of May-June and the wet months of November-December; street cats that are too well-fed to taunt the rats...And best of all, walking with J, our very own voyeuristic patrol, around the village and across closed - and if we are lucky - open doors.

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