Words

Right now, most of my touring are done inside our service bus. Which is actually the point of most conferences. They invite you to a picturesque city then when you attend, they set you up to a hectic schedule as if jetlag is something you can just shower off. Our plane passed through Abu Dhabi then to Oman and finally to Hyderabad. We were set off to a wrong hotel and then other snafus followed. On the first days, the sessions were blah and just when you are prepared, its almost the end of the conference and you have no time to tour. Anyway, I learned that Indians love words. Tarpaulin is inexistent here. They love to paint on walls. Only Tollywood actors are on billboards. I noticed that most inns are known as "working men hostels with ac" or "working women hostels with ac." No playing men and women together. Also "Tree oxygen. Free oxygen." When a shop says, Hot Chips. Believe it. And then one time, we stopped and right in front of me is an iron post with the hammer and sickle on top. I could have saluted it. CPI. Communist Party of India. It's so overground I wanted to cry.