我為什麼在想念他?

Today is the Mahatma’s birthday. My roommate and I decided to fast in honor of Gandhi, to feel what he felt when he went on all those hunger strikes. We only did it for a day, so it doesn’t even come close to what he had done. Nonetheless, happy birthday to the Mahatma!

Today was also the first time we went to join the Laughter Club. It was along Bund Garden somewhere. The thing about Pune, and perhaps the rest of India, is that there are very few road signs and you get to places by trial and error. It’s easier to mention landmarks instead of the actual street address.

On the way via rickshaw (those buggers really like to charge foreigners an exorbitant amount), we saw a parade of girls dressed in white and boys dressed in black and white. It was around 6:30 in the morning. I can’t imagine waking up that early, let alone for the father of the country (sorry Washington).

Now, the Laughter Club. It’s one of the strangest things I’ve been to. It was in a park area where you had to pay 3 rupees to enter. There were mostly old people lounging around, a few young people exercising, and pigeons pooping. All in all, it was a normal park experience. BUT, at 7am, we hear this nice old lady say, “Hellooo young people!” I assume she meant us, and we all trailed over to see what she wanted and to ask her about the Laughter Club.

She is part of the Laughter Club. She reminded me of my grandmother, who smiles whenever we grandchildren walked by. There was an middle-aged man who I *swear* looked like an Indian version of Mr. Bean, whom she warned to behave himself. It was quite an experience. We learned the Belly Laugh, the Grandfather Laugh, the Scooter Laugh, the Bhangra Laugh, the Rooster Laugh… so many ways of laughter! It was amazing. I wish I could go again, but unfortunately we won’t be here in Pune on Saturdays, when they usually meet. Haha. I loved it. I wish I can see those people again.

And to top off a really good day, all of us went to eat thali at a place nearby the hotel. It was so good. I never ate food like that. The most fantabulous way to break fast.

India has won the cricket world cup. Nearly everyone has gathered on the streets, shouting and screaming, honking their horns, lighting fireworks. It’s a crazy place outside. It’s apparently the first significant win since 1983. Very big deal. Hard to ignore, hard to read. But can’t help but smile at their excitement. So much appreciation for a simple game! Now there is drumming going on. I suppose someone made their way home and fetched a huge drum and is now driving down the street banging on it. What a festive mood! Now there is chanting… Tomorrow is the immersion of Ganesh. It will probably be even more crazy!

Pune is a bustling city, especially compared to the cities in the north. However, the poverty is no less startling. Homeless children are taking craps on the street and women with possibly fake prescriptions are begging you for money. Every time a rickshaw stops, they run through traffic and continuously beg. Even the rickshaw drivers think they’re crazy and shout at them to go away. It’s a strange world here. The beggars in the states have at least a bit of meat on their bones. They only sit on street corners and look desperate. People here, however, are much more persistent. They do any number of tricks and turns to squeeze some money out. It is a pitiful yet heartbreaking sight. I don’t know what to do about it.

After visiting Jaipur and Agra, seeing the Amber Fort and the Taj Mahal, it has truly been an eye-opening experience. It has let me to rethink all my conceptions of poverty. Nothing can be done at an individual level, but it is still tempting to wish that the dollar you give to the kid doing cartwheels in the middle of rush hour traffic would have a better life because of it. But of course it doesn’t. The small change might make the difference of a meal, but the main problem exists. Poverty is still rampant in India, no matter how many people claim that it is quickly coming into the new age. The rich are getting richer and the poor are getting poorer. How to fix this on a grand scale?

It’s summer vacation, but life is as unpredictable as the weather. Hot one day, cold the next. Where is the in-between? I miss Goldilocks and her just-rights. I need a calm, ordinary day. Perhaps I would be lounging on my bed, reading the latest novel. Or maybe even gazing at the sky, daydreaming.  But I am not doing that, or any vacation-related activity. Instead, I am stressed out every single day trying to please people who don’t know how to be pleased. Ugh. I hate being social. If this is what customer service is supposed to be, I have to give those people a big, fat award for dealing with snotty customers everyday. How THICK can a person get?

Dumb question.

Death is such an impersonal thing. It tears you away from the people you love at a distance far away from you. It feels like the end to someone you’ve known all your life should happen in front of you, with you. So you can feel their pain and watch as their life fades from their bodies.

But that seldom happens. Instead, all you get is a phone call probably, an impersonal notification that it’s happened. Where is the proof? Where is the feeling? Isn’t death supposed to be tragic? But a tragedy is filled with gore and violence and women holding their breasts with their heads torn through the sky and crying like there’s no tomorrow. But there is a tomorrow. And a day after. And a day after that. Life goes on even if you don’t want it to. Some essential part of your life has been lost, stolen away, but there is that unceasing part of you that still keeps ticking. Like the energizer bunny.

If only life were so funny.