The Fading Legacy of Allikuzhi Healers

Thirty cents is a modest measure by any reckoning — a fraction of an acre, barely enough to matter on a revenue map. Mine sits at the foothills of the Allikuzhi range, near a village called Shankarapura Kandriga in Andhra Pradesh, some forty kilometres from my weekend home in Dharmarajapuram. The land itself was never really the point. It was a foothold, nothing more, taken with a single intention: to walk into the hill forests that abound in "Jadi Booti" — herbs — and to study them in earnest. Not as a hobbyist collecting curiosities, but with something closer to a research discipline. A decade ago, I built a small hut there to serve as a base for exactly this purpose.

I mention the hut in the past tense deliberately. On my last visit, after an absence of nearly five years, I found it collapsed — undone not by any single dramatic event but by the accumulated, patient work of rain, wind, sun, and the particular breeze that runs off that hilltop. Nobody had done anything sinister. The land had simply gone on being land, indifferent to the plans I had made for it, while I went on being occupied elsewhere. There is a lesson in that indifference that I am still turning over, but it is not really the point of this piece.

The point is that the instinct behind the hut — that this hillside held something worth documenting — turns out to have been correct, and not merely in the way a fond hunch is occasionally validated. A formal ethnobotanical survey of these very forests, conducted by researchers from Presidency College, Chennai, and published in the International Journal of Ethnobiology & Ethnomedicine, recorded around sixty medicinally significant plant species across some three dozen families, gathered directly from the knowledge of local traditional healers in this belt — Shankarapura among the villages named. The Gudiyam caves nearby, a Paleolithic site first identified by the geologist Robert Bruce Foote, during the year 1863, sits at the edge of the same forest tract, a reminder that human beings have been extracting a living from this particular hillside for a very long time indeed — first as tool-users, later as herbalists, and now, apparently, as the occasional ethnobotanist with a clipboard.

What the survey documents, plant by plant, is a working pharmacy assembled entirely through trial, error, and oral transmission over generations: a root paste for eye irritation, a leaf decoction to bring down fever, a bark extract for tooth trouble, a stem paste for wounds, a snakeroot extract antidote for snake bite. None of it requires a laboratory. All of it requires someone who still remembers. And this is where the researchers' own findings turn quietly troubling — they note, almost in passing, that the healers who hold this knowledge, the Irula tribesmen, are ageing, and their children are not particularly interested in inheriting it. A pharmacy is being allowed to close for want of an apprentice.

I find myself sitting, unexpectedly, at the intersection of two kinds of neglect: my own small one — a hut left long enough that the weather reclaimed it — and a much larger, quieter one, in which an entire body of applied botanical knowledge is thinning out with each passing generation of healers who go unheard. An anchorage in the foothills of the Allikuzhi range will never substitute for what a proper research effort could do here. What it does offer is a reason, now overdue, to go back up that hill and pursue and try to restore the fading legacies. 

I plan to trek from the plot itself, over the hills to the Paleolithic caves, and down the far side to Gudiyam village, where a further forty-four cents of agricultural land near the old TELC Zeigenbalg church marks the other end of a nine kilometre trek, across a range of hill forest. It strikes me only now, writing this, what a strange span of time that walk covers: from a collapsed hut built out of a decade-old intention, through a forest that has been quietly cataloguing its own medicine for longer than anyone has been writing it down, past caves that have outlasted every deed ever filed for land nearby, and down into a village whose church carries the name of a German missionary who arrived on this coast three centuries ago. Very little of that timeline was planned. Most of it was simply there, waiting, the way the herbs on that hillside were waiting long before anyone thought to ask a healer their name.

The rebuilding, if it happens, will happen later. For now, the walk itself is overdue enough.

Iran, Oil and a Retrofitted Cycle

 

( How Global Geopolitics Put an Old Man Back in the Saddle)

The US-Iran conflict, now dragging into what feels like its permanent state of managed menace, has been doing something beyond rattling oil markets and unsettling foreign policy analysts. It has been quietly but insistently forcing ordinary citizens — those of us who fill petrol tanks and watch fuel prices with the resigned anxiety of people who know they have no choice — to ask an uncomfortable question: what happens when the oil actually runs out, or becomes so expensive that it effectively does?

Governments will deliberate. Economists will model. Committees will be constituted. The common man, meanwhile, will need to get to work.

I decided to act.

Not with a white paper. Not with a strongly worded letter to the editor. With a retrofitted electric cycle.

The Decision and the Sceptic

Sometime during the first week of May 2026, with the conflict showing no signs of resolution and petrol prices trending in only one direction, I called my son Skandan and asked him to source two battery-fitted cycles — one for Chennai city commute, one for my village home in Dharmarajapuram. The logic was simple, if slightly ahead of its time: when fossil fuels become genuinely unaffordable or unavailable, the man with an electric cycle will be mobile. Everyone else will be stranded.

Skandan received this strategic vision with the measured scepticism of a man who loves his father but has also observed him for several decades. There was a brief silence. Then: “Are you serious? You think you can ride after so many years?”

I said nothing. I am a man of vision. Vision does not explain itself.

The cycle was duly procured, and assembled the very next day by Patcha — Skandan’s father-in-law, a retired chartered engineer  and a man of admirable practical competence. All that remained was the inaugural ride. A mere 3 kilometres, from Skandan’s apartment back to mine. On a Sunday evening. On a battery-fitted cycle I had never ridden before. After a gap of over three decades and another half.

What could go wrong.

 

 

 

The Assembly, the Anticipation, and the Council of Dogs

I wheeled the cycle down from the apartment platform with what I hoped was the air of a seasoned cyclist merely warming up, only to discover that the exit pathway was occupied. Five street dogs sat in solemn conclave across the only route out, deep in what appeared to be a committee meeting of considerable gravity. They had not cleared their calendar for my departure.

My granddaughters — Hiranya, the elder at ten, and Keerthi, the younger one of six — were already perched on Skandan’s scooter, primed to follow me home and ensure the old man arrived in one piece. They issued immediate counsel: Thatha, don’t upset the dogs. They are downright nasty guys” I considered their advice for approximately one and a half seconds. Then I shooed the dogs firmly and without negotiation. The parliament dissolved with a few murmurs. I rolled down the ramp onto the street.

The great expedition had begun.

The Lemon, the Yelling, and the Giggling Gallery

It was approximately thirty seconds into the open road that I made a discovery of some consequence. The cycle had no bell. No horn. No whistle. No auditory warning device of any description whatsoever. It was a silent machine in a city that communicates exclusively through sound — horns, bells, the creative percussion of vehicles asserting their right of way at every junction.

I had two options. Turn back. Or yell.

I yelled.

Hello, Ayya, Thambi! Careful! Coming through! Move, move! — delivered at varying volumes depending on the proximity of the threat and the apparent hearing capacity of the person or vehicle in question. I became, in effect, a human horn. A retrofit of a retrofit. I informed Skandan over my shoulder, between two such announcements, that the cycle company had sold us a complete lemon.

Behind me, the granddaughters dissolved into giggles that did not stop for the better part of half a kilometre. Skandan maintained a straight face. He is his father’s son.

Battery Anxiety and the Apollo Prophecy

The first stretch was, in every other respect, a revelation. The evening air, the hum of the motorized wheels, the road opening up ahead — thirty years dissolved in about thirty seconds. The body remembered. The legs found their rhythm.

But somewhere in the middle of that first comfortable kilometre, I felt it. The battery — which had not been fully charged before my arrival — was already beginning to flag. The motor was losing heart even before we reached the Apollo Pharmacy ahead.

I turned toward the scooter behind me and delivered what I consider one of my finer comic observations of the evening: “This EV may not even last up to Apollo Pharmacy.”

It very nearly didn’t. The motor faded to a whisper. I pedalled on under my own steam — not the desperate pedalling of a man in crisis, but the steady, purposeful pedalling of a man recalibrating his expectations of modern technology. Somewhere around the pharmacy, after I had done sufficient honest work with my legs, the battery appeared to recover its courage. The motor hummed back to life. I turned right and pressed on.

The Hillranger: 1. Battery anxiety: 0. For now.

The Villivakkam Subway: Sixty Seconds of Truth

Of everything that lay between Skandan’s apartment and mine, it was the Villivakkam subway that had occupied my imagination well before the ride began. Not the dogs. Not the traffic. Not the battery. Not even the absence of a bell, which I had by then partially compensated for with lung power. The subway.

That long, sloping underpass — down one side, level through the tunnel, and then the climb back up on the other end — had been the subject of considerable private anxiety. Would the battery hold? Would the legs hold? Would I grind to an embarrassing halt in the middle of a Chennai underpass on a Sunday evening, requiring retrieval?

I had shared these fears with Skandan, who had said nothing reassuring, which is how I knew he shared them. He and the granddaughters followed me into the tunnel rather than waiting on the other side — a small but telling decision. They weren’t sure I would make it through unassisted.

Keerthi had already registered her assessment: “Thatha, I bet you will not get past the subway.” Six years old and already a realist.

The time was around nine in the evening. A Sunday, mercifully, so the traffic was light. I gathered myself, deployed whatever kinetic energy the downslope could offer, kept the pedals turning, and went.

I emerged on the other side gasping, triumphant, and approximately ten years older than when I had entered. Behind me, Skandan exhaled. Hiranya broke the silence: “Look at Thatha speeding away to glory!”

I chose to accept this at face value.

The PTC Bus and the Wisdom of the Footpath

MTH Road was otherwise manageable. The evening traffic was thin, the road wide, the motor cooperative. Then a PTC bus (MTC bus in today’s Chennai) materialised on the highway with the authority of something that has right of way over everything, including citizens making principled statements about energy independence on electric cycles. Skandan accelerated ahead to assess. I eased onto the footpath and waited, with great dignity, for the monster to pass.

There are those who might call this retreat. I prefer the phrase situational awareness.

The Security Guard, the Basement, and the Question That Went Unanswered

My apartment building appeared ahead. I turned in through the gates, flushed with quiet satisfaction, and was greeted by the security guard.

He looked at me. Then at the cycle. Then back at me. It was the long, slow, carefully neutral look of a man trying to determine whether the resident he had known as a person of means had suffered some catastrophic reversal of fortunes, arriving home on an elementary retrofitted bicycle at nine o’clock on a Sunday night, hollering at pedestrians. I gave him my most dignified nod and rolled past before he could arrive at any conclusions. He kept glancing back at me, probably guessing that I had lost my marbles.

Down the ramp to the basement. I rolled to a stop.

I had made it. 3 kilometres. One dog parliament. One failing battery. One bell-less cycle compensated for by vocal cords. One subway of existential dread. One PTC bus. One security guard’s eloquently sceptical expression.

Hiranya clapped — enthusiastically, genuinely. Skandan swung his scooter around to leave. And in that moment, Hiranya turned to me and asked, with the timing of someone who has inherited a certain instinct for the well-placed question:

“Thatha — when did you last ride a bicycle?”

Before I could answer, her father had sped away into the Chennai night.

The question, dear reader, is worth sitting with. Because embedded in it is a larger one that the US-Iran conflict, the oil markets, and the petrol pump queues of the near future are going to put to all of us very soon: when did we last think seriously about how we move through the world, and whether we can do it without fossil fuels?

I have my answer. It came on two wheels, on a Sunday evening, with a flat battery and no bell.

The old man is ready. Are you?

A SEBI for Election Manifestoes

Elections fought between the principal alliances, INDI and NDA, during 2024 were one of the longest, tiresome, irritable and beyond the endurance of the common man. The saga of elections, opinion polls, debates between party spokespersons, exit polls, opinions and discussions among citizens was exacerbated by the vitriol and venom spewed by politicians of all hues.

It was also, probably the first time when misinformation, fake allegations, false narratives aided by deep fake videos and a plethora of impractical and flimsy promises were made to a gullible electorate on a grand scale, albeit by candidates and parties of questionable credibility.

A Dire Need for a Draft Manifesto

This leaves a common citizen wondering whether it is time the entire process of holding elections from the announcement of election schedule, selection of candidates by parties, filing of nominations, holding of rallies, formulating party manifesto, political discourses by parties, press & analysts and political observers, opinion polls, exit polls et al are strictly regulated by a statutory authority with wider and sky high powers than the Central Election Commission (ECI)

Among the various facets of an election mentioned above, the party election manifesto is deemed to be one of the most important documents prepared, circulated and discussed by serious parties contending to fight the elections, especially on a National scale in order to disseminate information on what the party promises to deliver if elected to power.

The party manifesto is nothing short of a Draft Red Herring Prospectus (DRHP) that is filed by a company with SEBI in order to make a complete disclosure of the organization, its promoters, business and business plans, end-use of proceeds of equity, of the company before it can launch a public offer for sale of shares to prospective investors.

In the same vein, why can't the ECI aided by an economic, legal and financial wing, make it mandatory for all parties to file their Draft Manifesto (DM) with the ECI so as to enable them to go through a rigorous process of vetting the document by ensuring that a thorough due diligence is carried out on the written promises made in the DM. The DM can be set to a standard format as is being made for a DRHP. 

Composition of the DM

The DM may mandatorily contain, inter alia,

1) Name of the party, its registered office, past & present office bearers of the party, 

2) Material Record of elections contested in the past with results in a prescribed format.

3) Candidates listed to contest the current elections, constituency-wise

4) Background of the candidates, viz age, gender, religion/caste, educational qualifications, experience in business/industry/employment/profession/politics, existence of legal cases/disputes for and against each, Net worth and any other material information/data that could influence the decision of the voter.

5) Core Objectives of the party

6) Ancillary Objectives

7) Other Objectives

8) Elaboration of point (5) in quantitative and qualitative terms with utmost clarity on "Sources and Application" of funds to support the objectives, where financial implications are inevitable. (No conditions applicable, except force majeure)

9) Point (8) certification by a CA/CFA/Management Accountant (who needs to stick his/her neck out in case clarifications, if any, is raised by the ECI.

10) A tentative Implementation Schedule of objectives listed under (5), (6) & (8)

11) An Earnest Money Deposit (EMD) at a nominal percentage of aggregate of "Application of funds" under point (8) (Apart from Election Deposit for each candidate)

12) Risk factors as declared by the party and as advised/perceived by the ECI.

13) Party's perception of the risk factors

14) List of Material documents/certificates/approvals etc

15) List of places/locations/joints where the manifesto is made available in detailed format/abridged format.

16) Party's website uploaded with the complete DM in a downloadable format.

17) A list of PROs with their email IDs, landlines and mobile numbers who can be contacted by voters for clarifications, if any.

18) Name & address and contact coordinates of the Chief Election Coordinator of the party.

Timelines and Review Mechanism

The DM would ideally need to be filed and approved by the ECI at least 30 days before the commencement of elections. Any party leader making any promise beyond the scope of the party's DM will need to be dealt with with punitive action by the ECI, either by suspension of his/her candidature and/or imposing a monetary penalty on the speaker. An abridged version of the DM would be required to be published in a National newspaper of repute.

The party forming the Govt will need to file its performance report card every 6 months with the ECI in the prescribed format, as also advertise the report card in a National newspaper at the cost of the exchequer and upload the same on a website mandated by the ECI.

To Conclude

While the measures detailed above may not be comprehensive and could also suffer from some limitations, I think they lend a more credible process that the electorate can rely on for making a vital decision of their choice in the best interests of a vibrant democracy.

What next after DEMONitization?

Weeding out black money in the form of high-denom currencies is passe. It remains to be seen whether the estimated Rs 4 lakh Crore worth of scrap paper gets jettisoned from the monetary system and if so, what would the Govt really do with this huge surplus. (The value of old notes not returned to the banking system before the set deadline would result in reduction of RBI's liability to the Govt to that extent, resulting in flow of that much funds to the Govt from RBI by way of dividend, reduction in Govt Securities or by whatever name called)

What Next? A hint of PM's speech in Goa on 13th Nov  2016 was a clear pointer to the malaise of Benami properties. This set me thinking of what could be effective and fool proof measures that could be adopted in order to root out this evil once for all.

If I were part of the economic think-tank in the echelons of power, I would have suggested the following measures. These would from crux of the announcements that would be made on 1st January 2017.

1. There will be a holiday period of 90 days commencing from 1st January 2017 upto 31st March 2017 for all property related registrations across all SROs (Sub Registrar Offices) spread across the country covering all states and UTs. In other words, no sale or purchase or POA of properties will be entertained during the aforesaid period of 90 days.

2. All property owners, possessing any single property valued at more than Rs 50 lakhs (Purchase Price or FMV whichever is higher) will have to submit a declaration in triplicate, containing (inter alia) the following information in a Form prescribed for the purpose:

a) Name and address of the Owner of the Property.
b) PAN No. of the Owner
c) Nature of Property (Flat/Commercial Bldg/Residential Bldg/Wetland/Dryland/Farmland)
d) Address of property with Pin Code
e) Date of Purchase/Inheritance/Settlement of property.
f) Name and Last known Address of Seller/Bequether/Settlor.
g) Purchase price and Current Fair Market Value (FMV) of the property in case of purchase
h) FMV (Govt guideline value) of property in case of inheritance/settlement.
i) Income Tax Assessment Circle/Range, in case the owner is an Assessee

Those owning property valued at less than or equal to Rs 50 lakhs (FMV) need not submit this declaration.

The above Form will be required to be submitted in triplicate to the BANK where the owner has his/her SB/Current account. The Bank will retain one copy and acknowledge by endorsing on the other two copies, both of which will be returned to the Owner.

The Owner will have to submit one of the endorsed copy of the Form to the SRO within whose ambit the said property falls under, and obtain yet another acknowledgement from the SRO on the third copy of the declaration, which he needs to keep for his/her records.

3. Such of those properties in respect of which no declaration would have been made before 31st March 2017 (the deadline) will be specifically and temporarily marked by the Govt authorities for mandatory acquisition by the Central Govt.

Note on internal procedures to be adopted by the Govt/Agencies:

1. The Bank will submit a scanned copy of the Form along with digital history of ALL available transactions (in soft copy mode) of the account holder to the Income Tax Department (Specific Circle/Range) for further scrutiny, tax re-assessment if any and final clearance.

2. With the passage of Benami Transaction (Prohibition) (Amendment) Act 2015, which has come into force effective 1st November 2016, the law and punitive measures have been made very stringent and rather "Draconian". (The initial law passed in 1988 lacked teeth). Benamidaar (holder of the benami property) will need to fork out 10% of the FMV as fine with 5 years imprisonment if found guilty of non-disclosure. Of course the property gets confiscated by Govt, in any case. The beneficial owner (the person who has paid for the property) if ascertained from Benamidaar will have to fork out 25% of the FMV as fine AND imprisoned for 7 years and will have to undergo RI - Mandatorily.

3. Considering point 2 above, it is most likely than neither Benamidaar or the beneficial owners would come forward to make the declaration as prescribed above, in which case the property will be confiscated by the Govt.

4. An extended period of another 3 or 6 months would be extended for submitting the Declaration to such of those persons who would have been unable to do so within 31st March 2017 on account of stay in foreign soil/sickness etc. But such declarations will have to be made by the owner DIRECTLY to the income tax authority where he/she is assessed or liable to be assessed along with bank transaction history (obtainable from the bank) and a copy of declaration needs to be submitted to the concerned SRO.

Many Questions could arise about the effectiveness of implementation of the above said measures. Here we need to understand that:

a) 85% of land/property records have been computerized and available in digital mode. This is expected to be completed by mid-December 2016.

b) This would make it easy for the Govt to build and possess a central repository of all property data in classified manner of all propertied assets across the country.

c) Marking of properties as "Genuine" in respect of which Declarations have been received will be easy.

d) By the process of elimination of Genuine properties and such of those valued below threshold limit, the authorities can zero in on all LIKELY benami properties.

e) After the final deadline for concessional declarations (say 30th Sep 2017), the authorities will zero in on all unmarked digital property documents and make a list of all such properties in a classified manner.

f) Govt will finally take over (and develop) all such properties which are suitable/useful and beneficial for social schemes such as PHC/CGHS/Cummunity Halls/Bus Terminus/Rly Stn expansion etc which the Govt would have otherwise done as part of acquisition for Socially relevant schemes (Under Sec 6 of erstwhile Land Acquisition Act). This is where, the surplus from Demonitization could be utilized -is my thinking.

g) Such of those deemed Benami properties which is not required by the Govt will be publicly auctioned. This will fetch a huge revenue to the Govt. This revenue can also be utilized for the purposes stated in (f) above.

h) For such of those who dream of obtaining a stay order from the Courts in India against the above proceedings, I would like to remind them that our Constitution does not guarantee "Right to Property". Even if one has purchased property with hard earned money after paying taxed legitimately, the Govt has the right to take over such property in the interest of general social good, leave alone the right of the State to confiscate Benaami property.

i) Though "Land" is a State subject, Entry No 42 of List III of the Constitution empowers Central Govt in the matter of "Acquisition and Requisitioning of Property" under the Concurrent List.

An Energizing Reclusion

What does it take one to look half his/her age?

Venturing out for info on this mission, you are sure to stumble upon endless tips on do's and dont's, some of them already in your "regimen", (if there is one), some quite doable or undoable and a plethora of them you would like to do or undo but wouldn't have the heart or mind to keep to the dictum.

Broadly classifying the dicta, what is more primary and warranted than the other, are the a) efforts to bring down the biological age of the innate physical body and the other less important, the b) efforts to pursue all those steps to look young. Now I have decided to embark on a mission to achieve the former as a sine qua non for fulfilling the latter!

I would say that my experiences during my marathon treks were a primary motivating factor to take the bitter pills to tone down. Defying Newton's laws, I always perceived my own terrestrial acceleration due to gravity at 20 rather than at 9.8! Many a times, during my solitary treks, I do resort to the perfunctory collapse on my own volition at the penultimate moment in order to pre-empt a most inevitable swoon in the wilderness. Sometime back last winter, my 15 km trek across hill ranges in Yelagiri (about 250 km from my suburban farm midway to the cosmopolitan outsourcing hub) ended in the inevitable collapse just in time on thrusting myself under a waterfall, the destined target of the trek. The physical self was unable to keep pace with the mind's endurance. If the mind is unable to pull the bodily burden, either the former is fragile or the latter is! In my case the physical body considered itself too superior to be at the service of the mind! Mind has been at the service of the intellect at least for the past few years, though!

At just 5 short of hitting that horrendous century, I decided that it's time that I subjected myself to a "Rigorous Imprisonment" from all things nice and beautiful that life has to offer!!!

After sifting through good lot of literature on the caption, I conveniently salvaged the following ten commandments - suiting my lifestyle ....without rocking the comfort boat

1. Ensure 50% Veggies content in any meal. (Customized Orders!)
2. Tea with milk is vestigeal. Consume only pure black.(Bitter Better)
3. Neem and Thulsi leaves (in lieu of biscuits at tea)
4. Drink 5 litres of water a day. Thats 1 for every 20 kg.(If you cant carry a loo, make sure there's one near you)
5. Take green tea twice a day. (ok thats a med)
6. One hour of rigorous equipment exercise every morning.....the most difficult part!
7. Breathing exercise at traffic signals..instead of raving and ranting at rogue drivers!
8. Use coconut oil for cooking. Go the Bong/Mallu way!
9. Sleep 8 hours a day...fortify your bedroom and ...de-clutter it!
10. Park car at least 100 m from the destination.....a luxury in the concrete jungles!

And Now for the Ten sins to avoid-

1. No fried foods. No fast foods.....and the associated frills!
2. If you wanna binge, go brush and floss your teeth instead! Carry disposables!
3. No escalators. Need to reach destinations 15 to 20 min before time!
4. No aerated beverages...what with a pizza....oops no pizzas anyway!
5. Don't eat when thirsty. Know thirst from hunger. Do we?
6. No food intake after 2 hours before sleep. Walk down and chat up with the grocer if sleep interrupts!
7. No ice creams. What's life without it! Lemme discover!
8. No Vehicle/errand boy for targets less than 500 meters. Neighbourhood is blinking!
9. No Porter. No Trolley bags! (Leaving the shores? Donna worry...forget all the commandments!)

10. Don’t worry, be happy. If a problem is in control, solve it. If not, abandon it!

So it is with these charters, I commenced on a perceptibly difficult journey on the tenth day of Ashvina (Vijaydashami for the uninitiated)

Current "Asset" 95 Targeted Erosion at about 20%- down to 75. An uphill task!

It has been a week since the initiation.

Symptoms and Effects:- Car boot laden with crates of mineral water, …and some uncooked edible veggies too. 3 kgs burnt on the exercising equipment along with a commercial burn of 15k. Milk vendor is unhappy. Friends/associates ask me if I have become diabetic…and tender free advice on how to counter the problem! Primates wandering on my terrace wondering what this animal is upto every morning, trying in vain to break metallic rods every other day! My O’Boy unhappy with lost opportunities…going ‘untipped’! Vehicles at traffic signals wondering if this guy is suddenly suffering from a lucid interval of amnesia! Hating the car, using the public transport a lot more! The neighboring grocer with his new found bonhomie, looking for loan favours! The ice cream vendor claiming nonchalantly…’I told you so!’…and many more comical situations that cannot be scripted…! Anyways...I asked for it...So be it....if the targets are within calling distance of the mind!

In any case, I have desperately latched on to the dicta with vice like grip until the erosion is complete!