Shit happens
На моё сетование на культ Эйнштейна и Ганди пришёл отличный комментарий. Анонимный автор (кажется, из города Тула) упрекает меня в предвзятом отношении к Ганди и в нарочитом поиске и выпячивании недостатков великого учителя. Увы, комментатор, кажется, не разобрался, что неприличное удовольствие, с которым я пишу гадости про великого человека, полностью следует из аллергии на культ.
Комментарий замечателен и своим совершенно индуистским стилем - эдаким агрессивно-печальным смирением. Не могу удержаться, чтобы не противопоставить этому жизнерадостную цитату из чудесной книжки очередного писателя индийского происхождения, которую я недавно читал (A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry):
Past the crouching men, the three found a suitable spot. “The steel rail is very useful,” said their neighbour. “Works just like a platform. Puts you higher than the ground, and the shit doesn't tickle your behind when it piles up.”
“You know all the tricks, for sure,” said Om, as they undid their pants and assumed their positions on the rail.
“Takes very little time to learn.” He indicated the men in the scrub. “Now squatting there can be dangerous. Poisonous centipedes crawl about in there. I wouldn't expose my tender parts to them. Also, if you lose your balance in those bushes, you end up with an arseful of thorns.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” asked Om, teetering on the rail with laughter.
“Yes-the experience of others. Careful with your loata,” he cautioned. “If you spill the water you'll have to go back with a sticky bum.”
Ishvar wished the fellow would be quiet for a minute. He did not find the jocularity helpful to the task, especially when his bowels were reacting disagreeably to the communal toilet. It had been decades since he used to go outdoors, as a child. With his father, in the morning's half-darkness, he remembered. When the birds were loud and the village was quiet. And afterwards, washing in the river. But the years with Ashraf Chacha taught him big-town ways, made him forget the village ways.
“Only one problem with squatting on the rail,” said their long-haired neighbour. “You have to get up when the train comes, whether you have finished or not. Railway has no respect for our open-air sundaas.”
“Now you tell us!” Ishvar craned his neck in both directions, searching up and down the track.
“Relax, relax. There's no train for at least ten minutes. And you can always jump off if you hear a rumbling.”
“That's very good advice, as long as one isn't deaf,” said Ishvar peevishly. “And what's your name?”
“Rajaram.”
“We're very lucky to have you for our guru,” said Om.
“Yes, I'm your Goo Guru,” he chortled.
Ishvar was not amused, but Om roared with laughter. “Tell me, O great Goo Guruji, do you recommend that we buy a railway timetable, if we are to squat on the tracks every morning?”
“No need for that, my obedient disciple. In a few days your gut will learn the train timings better than the stationmaster.”
The next train was not heard till they had finished, washed, and buttoned their pants. Ishvar decided he would sneak out tomorrow morning before Rajaram awoke. He did not want to squat next to this philosopher of defecation.
И краснеют, коль завидят шапку нашу невзначай - про три вторжения в Афганистан
Индия - родина слонов - про лживую империалистическую теорию арийского вторжения
Моционизм и Компульсивный Метафорит - великие умы о туманных метафорах и о ясноглазых свидетелях
Книжки - Амитав Гош - книжка бенгальского писателя об Индии времён Ост-Индской кампании
Поговорить не с кем - о культе Ганди и заодно о культе Эйнштейна
Shit happens - навоз во зло и навоз во благо, или "является ли специалист по сортам навоза навозным специалистом?"
В затылки наши круглые глядят - о поводах для расизма, краткий обзор и рацпредложения
Баб-эль-Мандебский пролив - о великом Афганистане, с южных гор до южных же морей
Рикки-Тикки-Тави - о ружьях у индийцев времён британского Раджа
Родина слонов - новые сведения о древности индийской древности
Бал Тэкерей - некролог великому лидеру и герою любимой книжки
Люди и звери - о том, как власти раньше не могли остановить людоедов, а теперь не хотят
Мы с тобой одной крови, ты и я - о роли людоедов в индийской политике
Комментарий замечателен и своим совершенно индуистским стилем - эдаким агрессивно-печальным смирением. Не могу удержаться, чтобы не противопоставить этому жизнерадостную цитату из чудесной книжки очередного писателя индийского происхождения, которую я недавно читал (A Fine Balance, by Rohinton Mistry):
Past the crouching men, the three found a suitable spot. “The steel rail is very useful,” said their neighbour. “Works just like a platform. Puts you higher than the ground, and the shit doesn't tickle your behind when it piles up.”
“You know all the tricks, for sure,” said Om, as they undid their pants and assumed their positions on the rail.
“Takes very little time to learn.” He indicated the men in the scrub. “Now squatting there can be dangerous. Poisonous centipedes crawl about in there. I wouldn't expose my tender parts to them. Also, if you lose your balance in those bushes, you end up with an arseful of thorns.”
“Are you speaking from experience?” asked Om, teetering on the rail with laughter.
“Yes-the experience of others. Careful with your loata,” he cautioned. “If you spill the water you'll have to go back with a sticky bum.”
Ishvar wished the fellow would be quiet for a minute. He did not find the jocularity helpful to the task, especially when his bowels were reacting disagreeably to the communal toilet. It had been decades since he used to go outdoors, as a child. With his father, in the morning's half-darkness, he remembered. When the birds were loud and the village was quiet. And afterwards, washing in the river. But the years with Ashraf Chacha taught him big-town ways, made him forget the village ways.
“Only one problem with squatting on the rail,” said their long-haired neighbour. “You have to get up when the train comes, whether you have finished or not. Railway has no respect for our open-air sundaas.”
“Now you tell us!” Ishvar craned his neck in both directions, searching up and down the track.
“Relax, relax. There's no train for at least ten minutes. And you can always jump off if you hear a rumbling.”
“That's very good advice, as long as one isn't deaf,” said Ishvar peevishly. “And what's your name?”
“Rajaram.”
“We're very lucky to have you for our guru,” said Om.
“Yes, I'm your Goo Guru,” he chortled.
Ishvar was not amused, but Om roared with laughter. “Tell me, O great Goo Guruji, do you recommend that we buy a railway timetable, if we are to squat on the tracks every morning?”
“No need for that, my obedient disciple. In a few days your gut will learn the train timings better than the stationmaster.”
The next train was not heard till they had finished, washed, and buttoned their pants. Ishvar decided he would sneak out tomorrow morning before Rajaram awoke. He did not want to squat next to this philosopher of defecation.
И краснеют, коль завидят шапку нашу невзначай - про три вторжения в Афганистан
Индия - родина слонов - про лживую империалистическую теорию арийского вторжения
Моционизм и Компульсивный Метафорит - великие умы о туманных метафорах и о ясноглазых свидетелях
Книжки - Амитав Гош - книжка бенгальского писателя об Индии времён Ост-Индской кампании
Поговорить не с кем - о культе Ганди и заодно о культе Эйнштейна
Shit happens - навоз во зло и навоз во благо, или "является ли специалист по сортам навоза навозным специалистом?"
В затылки наши круглые глядят - о поводах для расизма, краткий обзор и рацпредложения
Баб-эль-Мандебский пролив - о великом Афганистане, с южных гор до южных же морей
Рикки-Тикки-Тави - о ружьях у индийцев времён британского Раджа
Родина слонов - новые сведения о древности индийской древности
Бал Тэкерей - некролог великому лидеру и герою любимой книжки
Люди и звери - о том, как власти раньше не могли остановить людоедов, а теперь не хотят
Мы с тобой одной крови, ты и я - о роли людоедов в индийской политике