I got a creepy Google referral yesterday: 'tamils dark skin ugly.' I looked it up myself, and found, among other things, a site where Tamils and Kannadigas were calling each other terrible names. The context was a discussion (that's not exactly the right word...) of the division of water resources between Tamil Nadu and Karnataka. I could have learned a lot of new words if I had read all nine pages of it.
And for the person who is looking for 'lady's finger vegetable picture': another word for lady's finger is okra.
I went back to the Ripon Building to pick up the official copy of our property tax final decree - the result of my appearance at the Lok Adalat. Two clerks were gossiping on the verandah outside the office I was headed for. One of them recognised me (not too many vellaikkaris - white women - in those parts, I imagine) and led me into the office. There, three more clerks were enjoying a snooze, their heads fallen backward at different angles. As the first clerk riffled through stacks of papers, one of the others woke up just enough to straighten his head, then went back to sleep. The other two were happily oblivious to my intrusion.
My gardener, Chinnaraj, killed the snake which was said to be poisonous. It had entered the garage where he was taking his own afternoon nap. He hit it with a gardening tool, using his one good arm, and threw its body outside.
Chinnaraj's paralysed arm is recovering slowly: he can wiggle his fingers, and bend the arm slightly from the elbow. His wife comes to work with him every day now, and they move around the garden together. I never discussed this with him - they decided that this was how it should be done.
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