I don't read newspapers much these days. Every morning when I go to yoga I bring Rs 3.50, which is the price of the Hindu. Only if I don't meet any beggars on the way I get morning news.

Truly global corporation.

The "iron man" from my street.

“Sir, Your Head Too Big”

Today I stopped by a helmet shop, by which I pass every day on my way to work, to get myself a helmet. I decided I should wear one, even if it is unbearably hot as it is, and even if vast majority of bikers in Chennai don't wear one. I should value my head, I thought. A young clerk approached me and offered his help. After a few questions he pulled out one helmet, stacked it on top of my head and pulled it down pretty forcefully. It wouldn't come all the way down. Then he brought another one and repeated the action, this time with more success. The helmet felt good on my head and its look was giving some confidence. Not that I actually imagined my head in it hitting a concrete wall at 80km/h and staying intact, but, you know, it looked good. Price was also acceptable and I wouldn't have anything against buying it, but being used to always having choice I asked him to show me a few other models, so that I can compare them and then make a decision. He just shook his head, “No Sir, your head too big!”

“Definitely Male”

I bought a motorcycle today! It is a Bajaj Pulsar, which probably doesn't mean much to anybody outside of India, but anybody here will know that it is “definitely male”, which is Bajaj's sales pitch for the bike.

This morning in newspapers there was a photograph from demonstrations against the closure of dance-bars in Mombay. Almost all bar dancers had their heads covered, and some of them left only their eyes visible. I wonder whether this is just traditional clothes or an attempt to stay anonymous?

The rest of the weekend was surprisingly eventful. In the afternoon I went with Thiru and Pachai to a motorcycle dealership to inquire about the bike I am planning to by. I have a deal with Thiru: I will buy the bike, ride it while I am here and then sell it to him. We saw the bike and we both liked it, but the process of getting it is not so simple and we have to come back on Monday. Mandatory “what now” is answered before it was spoken: Thiru suggests trip to Pondichery, and Pachai and I readily accept it.

Pondichery is a city on the coast some 150km south of Chennai. It is in the middle of Tamil Nadu state, but because of its history as a French colony, it was granted a status of a special territory. And special it is. Being surrounded by a state with some of the strictest liquor laws in the country, Pondichery, with its laid back attitude and relaxed laws is a popular weekend gateway for young Chennaiites in search for some fun.

Before we head south, we try to find another guy who would join us: there is an available seat in the car and it would be a waste not to use it, explains Pachai. It sounds reasonable to me and soon we find a friend of his who is just finishing his shift at a press for one of the major Indian newspapers and would like to joins us. We pick him up and off we go. The road toward Pondichery is in a pretty good shape for Indian standards, but road-side activities, animals, style of driving of Indian drivers and night make the ride fairly adventurous and long. We finally arrive half an hour after midnight, after two and a half hours of driving. The city is surprisingly alive at this time of night: couples and families are walking along the sea front, moviegoers are coming out of a movie theater, food vendors are still busy. To add to the atmosphere, tomorrow is Mayday and streets are being decorated with red flags and covered with big paintings of the international worker's symbol, sickle and hammer.

Mayday preparations in Pondichery.

My friends are not really sure which place is open this late, but they know that something “must be”. We ask a group of young men about most probable place to score a drink at this hour and they all agree that hotel “Mass” is the place. It is located on the other side of the town so it takes us a while to reach it. When we finally do, all we get is a closed gate and gatekeeper's assurance about a place that really is open. So we follow his advice and find ourselves in a similar situation again. I start having certain doubts about our prospects, but my friends are still pretty enthusiastic, so we drive around Pondichery, from one bar to another, asking advice from auto-riksha drivers, passers-by, homeless people, party activists that are painting the streets, etc. A common thing to all of them is that everybody has a ready advice to offer and everybody is very positive about it. And we follow each one of them. After two hours of driving around Pondichery, we were tired and hungry and we decided that we had enough night life for the night. Fortunately, there was still a good place to eat ready for those more fortunate than us, who were now coming from the bars. After a nice meal we find a hotel and crash into beds.

We start next day with coffee in the room and then search for food around town. It is already noon, so we are not sure whether to look for breakfast or lunch. Practical Americans invented brunch for this purpose, but that concept still didn't reach this part of the world. After few unsuccessful attempts we decide to try “Le Club”, a French restaurant that also serves food from all the colonies France ever had in Asia. We enter a beautiful garden with tropical plants and a spacious patio covered with dry palm leaves. In the back of the garden there is a white stone building from the colonial era, which was made into a hotel. The menu is distinctively French, and after a month or so of asking my friends for food recommendations, I found myself being asked for help in selecting dishes. The trouble is that for Indian taste, which is used to variety of very strong spices, Western food tastes very plane. Grilled fish that I had, prepared with salt, pepper and a touch of herbs, is completely tasteless when compared to fried fish Indian way. They didn't enjoy their food as much as found it peculiar.

"Le Club"

After lunch we go to the waterfront and get some ice cream, and then head out of town to find a beach good for swimming. When we arrive at one it is unbearably hot, and there is no shadow anywhere near. Even the ocean is hot and it helps little to cool one down. After a little while we head back to our room for a more reliable way of cooling: cold beer and A/C. We watch some Indian movies and Thiru translates some dialogs to me.

The whole thing is pretty funny. As most other Indian movies, it is a combo of action, romance, musical and comedy mixed in very improbable ways. Plot of the one we are watching revolves around a marriage arrangement between an Indian guy who lives in the U.S.A. and a girl who lives in India. Their families agreed, and the date was set, but in the meantime another guy, who is an old college mate of the groom, takes advantage of the situation and falsely represent himself as the groom. When the real groom arrives, the lie is uncovered, but damage is already done: the bride has fallen for the lier. That of course poses a big moral dilemma for her: go with the heart and take a lier, or take the “prearranged” guy. This dilemma is also being resolved between the two rivals in a more physical manner. The heart wins at the end, unlike most of the times in Indian reality, and this is probably one of the biggest reasons for tremendous popularity of the movie (Pachai's friend Kadil saw this movie seven times only in theater, and countless times on his VCR.)

Pachai and Thiru in front of our hotel.