Is the year 1935? Did I just get time warped back to the Third Reich? This must be some sort of sick twisted dream … Today when leaving my house I noticed dozens of swastikas lining the stairs of my building. Immediately the Ann Frank in me began looking for an out and I formulated a plan to hide in the attic till shit blew over. I was later reassured that the swastikas hold a religious significance to Hinduism and are common during this seasons headlining holiday.
Today is Diwali, it’s the most visibly celebrated holiday in India, representing the victory of good over evil via an insane amounts of fireworks.
Think of it as a crossbreed between Christmas and the 4th of July. Children are showered with presents and six year old slum children recklessly light off pitakas (fireworks). Kinda like the way overpriced Halloween stores open up every October in the states, here a million different underpriced firework stores pop up around every corner.
Back in the states it would cost you 50 bucks to buy anything that flies up 200 feet, but here I purchased 10 Kaliswari Bullets for 50 rupees (roughly a buck); for under 300 rupees you can get rockets that skyrocket hundreds of feet in the air … dirt cheap.
Tonight as the sun fades, every kid that’s far too young to be lighting off sparklers will be blowing up rockets. Chaotic awesomeness, I plan on blowing up a couple packs of stray dogs, one of Raju mamas servants (he has plenty to spare) and maybe Jeet Sodhi’s roadside banana stand.
Jeet and is nana stand
Arvil, Rithlal and I just went topside to test out a couple rockets. I thought it would be a great idea to strap some Kaliswari bullets to the rockets, increasing our chances of permanent mutilation. Luckily we did not injury ourselves but seeing as the bullets did not blow up until they hit the ground a few hundred yards away, we cannot be positive that there were no casualties.
Tonight Kaku is coming over with another friend who is bringing more explosives to add to our arsenal. We plan on increasing our assets and minimizing our liabilities by having Rithlal do the igniting.
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Oh man … it has started, bad news folks. Arvil just ran into the bathroom for round 2, I am almost comatose after round 1.
Have you guys ever seen that movie Cloudy With A Chance of Meatballs 3D? Well what just came out of my ass was kinda like CloudyWith a Chance of Uncooked Foamy Meatballs 4D (shaking and spraying and all).
We just came from Raju Mamas house, he threw an an all night long poker and food party that lasted five hours. Throuhgout our partying we swindled rich people out of hundreds of rupees with our genius 3 card poker playing and stuffed our faces with the dozens of appetizers. Raju had around 5 servants peddling food in and out of the kitchen all night.
Following dinner, I had the sudden urge to shit myself and this almost happened. I begged Arvil to follow me upstairs so that I would have some cover. The last thing I needed was someone to walk into the room and hear the sound of death coming from my ass. After a mean session of sweating, dropping 5 lbs of what looked like Cambells minestrone soup and praying to g-d for this to stop I decided to pack up shop and see if I could hold out. Only one problem, the toilet would not flush. Later on after confessing to Anu Mama that her toilet wouldn’t flush she informed me that it has been broken for a few days. Great, what a nice way to repay someone for inviting me to their house for dinner. I felt like an asshole.
I am now laying next to Arvil consoling him after his horror story of a toilet visit. I hope that I can beat this sickness through falling asleep before I soil the bed sheets.
Some back and forth convo btwn Arvil and I describing life.
“Straight liquid out my butthole son, projectile”
“I felt like it was completly futile to wipe, because I was ganna be back so soon and I was so raw down there”
“You know the feeling like when you can’t tell which hole the waters coming out”
“Machine gun status man”
“Wiping however did salvage whatever human dignity I had left”
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Today was rough. While reading this morning’s Delhi Times Rithlal prepared us omelets, toast and an apple. While picking apart my toast I realized that my fingernails had grown longer than most women’s and the itch in my beard was a clean sign that its mass was capable of handling sub-zero temperatures, so we headed to the local salon.
Arvil and I ordered up a shave followed by a face massage. After looking at a clean shaven Josh in the mirror I felt like a new man, the face message left me feeling like a million crore, but inside my wallet I felt like I could afford more luxurious treatment. A manicure & pedicure are two things I have always been curious about, after being convinced by my barber that it would help with my speed on the frisbee field then it was a clear to me that sacrifices must be made if I want to be the best.
Sitting side by side, Arvil and I ordered a cup of sweet chai as we waited for our royal treatment. From upstairs a 13 year old Indian boy brought down equipment and began to set up shop. Arvil and I joked about how it would be funny if this little kid were actually the professional administrating the mani/pedi. And it turns out he was, Arvil was rubbed down hard by this 13 year old while I sat there and laughed. My attendant had yet to come down and I was hoping for it to be a girl, but instead a 17 year old wearing imitation designer clothing comes down stairs and started massaging my feet.
After an hour and half of our hands and feet being rubbed down by a couple of teenagers, we scrapped the head massage. We handed the cashier 320 rupees and tipped our barbers. I wouldn’t have traded this experience for anything in the world, after spending a couple hours in that salon I realized that I am not cut out for that kind of luxury.
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