THE FOG OF WAR

Having dawdlied over the internet long enough I headed out for a bite to eat. A non-Indian curry, rice, and milk tea. And when I entered I recognized several people there, including the retired bus driver who, all things considered, is a piece of work. I was glad to see that he was fully occupied harranguing someone else, whom I also knew. So there is safety in numbers.

Non-Indian curry means, in this case, something almost English, without any ghee. Which to most Desis would be both unthinkable and sacrilegious, and it's probably a jolly good thing that no Indians or Pakistanis every patronize that place. Although a spot of nimboo achar would not have been amiss.

Most Desis would not have appreciated the loud Toishanese discussions. Being by nature quiet and modest people not given to tumult. Unless they're Punjabis having a jolly good fight, in which case all bets are off.

Indian restaurants are peaceful places filled with spirituality. Good lord, I can't say that with a straight face! In actual fact, they're staffed mostly by Punjabis, and shouting matches are the order of the day. Frightens the Gujus and keeps the juices flowing.
Sometimes I miss being surrounded by Punjabis.
But not often.

The only Indian restaurant I can remember which was "spiritual" was that joint down on Market Street staffed by white women in sarees, where one of them explained patiently to Rishi what yoghurt was, which, having actually consumed it all his life, he "appreciated" immensely. And gosh thank you for sharing your superior wisdom!
I think the term he used later was "stupid white chick".

Remarkably, that's a term which I likewise use. Often.


This city is full of the type. Pale mystical wraiths floating poetically through life, dispensing good karma to us poor heathens. They've read about meditation and reincarnation, and they practise yoga. Many of them are anti-vaxxers, vegans, and Buddhists. In the words of my apartment mate "lord save us from frikken' white Buddhists", which is usually followed by a string of interesting Cantonese nouns and adjectives that should not be printed.

A number of which I heard while eating lunch.
Punctuation!



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