Noting down (BH: D314)

June 15, 2012

I have been seeking a time of the day or part of the night when I have energy and enthusiasm left to put down the daily note. Answering phones and meeting people is far more draining that MATLAB coding. Looks like pre-breakfast compromise on the newspaper reading time is a solution for the timelessness. Will see how it goes for the next few days. Otherwise a device that can help compose during the commute.

Early morning yesterday, I was back at the Mutton stall. It was open but unmanned and 'un-meated'. The assistant sat on the 'shop step' across from the street reading Mathrubhumi paper.

Perhaps, at 6;15 am, he was reflecting on how 'gunda' gangs have taken over much of the butchering activity in the state. The particularly gruesome political murder 41 days ago is still fresh in everyone's mind. 52 slashes with swords on a man. 

He tells me that the main meat man has gone to get the goats readied after the government inspection. Sure enough, a rickshaw custom-made pulls up with a plastic container full off 'products'. The skinned, meaty chunks come out first and go straight to the hooks. The assistant goes about slicing away hanging bits and other parts which have stand-alone sales value.

Each piece has three or four big blue government approval seals. The ink spreads giving a blue blood illusion after death. "The doctor must examine before and after. It is so time consuming," comes the complaint.

Next he materializes what looks like balls inside dirty, wet socks. I have no clue what that is. The fact that I am on the phone with a vegetarian half way across the planet is not helping either. Made an inquiry with knitted eyebrows and thumbs up which translates to 'what?' in this part of the world.

"botty saare botty" came the reply. Ah! the stomach. The raw material for sausages etc. The organ that stays leafy vegetarian for the goat's life. Except may be bits of paper and plastic these days.

Finally, the soup bits arrive in a bucket. The final expressions frozen on the faces. Hoofs that trotted and leaped and landed safely. 

I focus on the phone as a head gets its final face-lift. The toothy fatal grin gets a CGI horror movie effect when the beard comes off with the skin. Rest of the procedure is clinical. Strength of the skull testified by the height to which the knife must be raised.

Soup at 11 am was good. 

Little Advaith is bringing back old lullabies and classic Malayalam 'baby talk' back in the house. There are songs or statements that go with every single activity of his day....which is hardly couple of hours of non-sleep time that he uses to take in this planet before going back to sleep land when his brain rearranges all the observations. When that activity proceeds in the head, his face is nothing short of 'Navarasa nayagan' going through all the nine expressions in a matter of seconds repeatedly.

He clearly identifies four animals in the house. 
There is the animal that feeds him milk. He can smell her from across the room. 
There is another animal that bathes him, cleans him up (he is very particular about that) and feeds him a second type of milk. 
Then a hairy animal who carries him around and talks the most to him.
Finally another hairy animal who is not a continuous presence, loud and obnoxious when he is around and of no particular use! I hope to grow out of that impression in a few years!

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