April 12, 2012
The newspaper distributors association went on a token strike today. So the neighborhood woke up in confusion. Sleepy faces sat on the frontyards and verandahs of almost every house in the colony sipping on morning tea as usual but with the paperless hand not knowing what to do. Some resorted to reading old magazines and even religious texts in the absence of the papers. In the absence of the latest, the search for the new among the old and oldest!
The newspaper distributors are protesting the low 23% commission that the local biggies Manorama and Mathrubhumi pay them compared to the 40% paid by smaller newspapers. Their absence this morning converted Rema Aunty's hubby into the local newspaper boy. The man subscribes to 7 dailies, so clearly not having them delivered was against the laws of his universe. By 8:30am, he returned from visiting all the newspaper offices in the city, loaded with copies of each paper which he threw over the walls and gates of every house from the car. I suspect there will be some dramatic exchange between him and the newspaper agents tomorrow.
My morning walk was purposeful for a change this morning. I headed to the Connemara market to buy oranges. Though it was only 7 am, the market already looked semi-exhausted from all the dawn hours of activity. The fish market was flourishing. One could sense that from couple of hundred meters away. The slush from the melted ice mixed with mud brought a tinge of adventure to the shopping while negotiating the slippery tiled floor. The smell of sea and fish pierces the nostrils. Much greater wake up kick than the strongest coffee. Early crows hoping to catch the discarded entrails sit in uncharacteristic silence on the eletric wires above. Colorful plastic basins, black rubber display sheets, much abused, aged, scratched, old white paint buckets, thin rivulets of diluted blood, wet clumps of displaced sand. Reseller fisherwomen and hotel purchase managers throng the area along with a few finicky individual shoppers who insist on the quality that is available only in the day's first catch. Anchovies and sardines were the most common today. Intense bargaining was on for the larger tuna and kingfish. In the midst of all the din, a chubby woman balances her sleeping head on her palm precariously over a stack of goldband goat fishes. Fresh sardines were too tempting to pass on. With the customary milk purchase that is a standard fixture of the morning walk, I returned home with items of a fairly balanced diet: fish, oranges and milk.
Ever since we had cut off the nameless white 'flowerful' small tree that stood near the gate, regular visitor birds have abandoned the garden. As a result, bunches of bright red Ixora fruits stand unpecked, unfeasted. I have been blaming Achan for the cruel singular deforestation that stemmed most from the cognitive dissonance of not knowing the tree's name. It is difficult to butcher a lamb one has named. But a nameless tree is forever in danger.
A glimmer of hope, bright green with streaks of white and black, in the form of a Barbet this morning. Initially, it played around on the Labarnum cursorily inspecting the token three bunches of golden flowers the tree has sported for the season so far. Then it moved onto the neem descending tantalizingly close to the ixora in that area.
A crow couple was busy pulling a discarded cable tv wire from the posts near by. So I wondered if the barbet was also looking for construction material. But with a move onto the jackfruit branches, it was pretty clear that it wasn't long term nesting investment but short term hunger that dictated its morning sojourn.
Achan and I sat motionless, silent on the verandah breathing shallow waiting for it to peck on the fruit and herald the return of the wings to the garden. And then at the exact moment it landed on a flexible stem of an ixora...bang! The neighbor's gate unbolted with a resounding call of "Chechiyeeeeee" (sister). The local fish delivery in the morning by Mable. In a flash, the barbet had covered the twenty meters as the crow flies to the secrecy and safety of the abundantly leafed Pomelo tree at Leny chechi's house. Hoping against hope that it will return tomorrow....
Without any preceding thunderous announcement, heavy rains at 1pm. In three doses lasting 25 minutes each, the land was cooled by 3pm. Much needed relief from the the summer heat. A coolness that fills the lungs with deep breaths. Drenched leaves assume a shy green.
Unbelievable chase and win by the Chennai Super Kings in the IPL cricket match against Bangalore Royal Challengers. Blistering 28 from 7 balls by Morkel. Memorable game.
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