todd and i wandered into a bookstore somewhere on our way somewhere else, after canceling our plans to see "bluffmaster" at the parthas. sharaf was not available and i would miss his company and his big speakers and cd player blasting indian filmi music in the rickshaw.
the bookstores in india are usually small and the offerings often strange. the books are always dusty and dirty and in no particular order. but it was a slice of heaven, being rather book dry at the moment. they steered me right to, "the company of women" by khushwant singh. a sikh! ok. i got to reading it later and here is a snippet from the author's note: "i started writing this novel at age 83 and finished at 85. no characters in this expose are real: they are figments of my senile fantasies." i'm already skeptical and privately blushing. the 2 books i picked out for myself were selected tamil and punjabi short stories. call me conservative.
naturally we are invited to sit down with danny and tommy and culture swap. i vocalize my love for bollywood, they bash the bolly. "no good scripts-we like american movies. realistic is better." ok, i half agree, but i like the escapism of bad recent bollywood, as well as appreciate fine indian cinema as well. so i ask what these dudes like. "friends, animal planet, will and grace, and caroline in the city-very good script." ok. "so what about malayalam movies?" i chirp. of course they fall all over each other just at the mere mention of their beloved regional cinema, which is more realistic. "indians don't have washboard abs, fast japanese motorcycles and supermodels for girlfriends." this was a truly puzzling conversation.
they say to me, "you must have been indian in a past life, except we don't believe in reincarnation" and i don't know if this is a compliment or what. they are hindus who have converted to christianity.
which explains danny's obesession with the "god" cable channel. and i realize how alike we all are at the core, but so different in our approach.
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