Celebrating life!

I am convinced of it! Right after what happened yesterday. Yes I'm absolutely sure. India's and probably even the world's worst bus conductors are right here in the Land of Letters aka Kottayam. Why, you ask me, am I so convinced? Sample the following: 1. The conductor of a certain bus insists on brushing against me till I finally learn evasion. He loses interest of course once I get my thali. 2. Another conductor found out that I could speak English well and would use it remarks against us several times my friends and I got on that bus. (This guy also went to jail later for running down someone). 3. When the conductor of the bus I got on yesterday found out I had no change for my ticket he asked me to get off the bus! Hail Kottayam bus conductors! P.S: There are also some nice ones here. So I won't say all of them are bad.

You call yourself the Malayali Manga- the epitome of all that is good in your homeland Kerala, dressing prim and proper. You wear only gold, which the elders approve and cook and clean like a "good" wife. You smile eternally, never out, you're every Malayali mother-in-law's dream come true. You never shout or scream or embarrass and cover your ears when I mention 'sex' or 'taboo.' You frown on my unorthodoxness and my I-don't-care-if-I-fit-in attitude. You're the flawless, God-fearing, splendid woman that some of us can never aspire to be. Yet I hear you fiercely discuss on the train with our carbon copy friends (in the ladies compartment of course, when men are not around) whether Gigi/Beena/Shymol? some other God-forsaken woman could quite possibly be able to flaunt her stomach revealed, in a sari while still staring at my non-conformity. (This poem was the result of an actual conversation overheard on a train, between...