You’d expect a book to be good, if not great, when it starts with a “hand job”. But, this book is close to being lame. 300+ pages of a pale Australian’s view on religion in India kind of wares you down. Especially when you read it on a train to Tirupathi. But then, it has its good sides. Especially Sarah’s (author) sense of sarcasm, being unbiased and non-judgmental towards all religions and most of all, her travel escapades, which made me think about planning a long road trip.
10.10 pm : was on my way home from office; strong breeze reminds you of the long weekend; feels awesome; vehicles sparingly spread on better roads; a chance to see how fast my bike can go; a rare opportunity on the ever busy streets thence raises thy spirit.
I reach the CM’s camp office; two girls riding a moped steal my attention; our ways part soon, as I go over the flyover; I slow down, hoping to catch a glimpse; two teens on a chetak whistle at the ladies; the miss on the back seat twists around; she pulls the dropping shawl over; a response, and the kids are ignited; more whistles and hand waves come along; the noise makes the ladies look again; the whistles, the waves and the ooOOO’s keep coming; the girls seemed worried, and they sped away.
The cautious meet the chichoras. A typical hyderabadi routine.