I have been tired and uninspired and filled with toilet thoughts. I have also been in Pune, where Osho ashram is based. Osho being the Beatles one with the guy with the beard who had lots of Rolls Royces and lots of sex. They still require an HIV test, which I think means that HIV positive aren't allowed, so I didn't go to the ashram on principle, though my hotel was right by it. So near that the Yogi Cafe (I'm not joking) in the hotel was constantly filled with whippies (western hippies) in red and orange robes saying things like “what I need right now is [insert fatuous self-regarding "need"]…” Perhaps it's mean to be scornful but if you'd had to sit through two mornings of “Breakfast with Osho,” where the bearded man drones over the loudspeaker saying things like “if you write a book of science, by the time you publish it it will be out of date.” [dramatic pause]. “Facts. Change.”
No shit, guru.
Also, the ashram costs a fortune. So I preferred to hang out in a plastics factory in the middle of nowhere, where they now manufacture a plastic latrine slab used by several NGOs in emergencies. I have now seen a latrine slab being rotationally moulded and how many people can say that? I didn't prefer however to spend ten hours in a car to visit the world's public toilet, where the visit lasted less than one hour. Record-breaking it may be, but it was too bloody far away.
Back in Bombay now, and more slums. Two firsts today, in fact: I visited the biggest slum in Asia and the biggest reading room in Asia. One was more serene than the other. The biggest slum is Dharavi, which houses, sort of , one million people. It doesn't always look like a slum, as it has paved roads, including the wonderfully named 90 Feet Road, because it's ninety feet wide “and inside the slum the roads are much smaller,” said my companion. There's also 60 Feet Road. I asked her if there was a”2 foot Road” inside the slum but she didn't get it. Lots of people don't get my English. My companion to the biggest toilet complex in the world regularly provided answers to questions I hadn't even thought of, till I gave up and gazed at the scenery. And the near-death collisions. And yet more near-death collisions.
The biggest reading room in Asia is in the J. Petit library, which I was walking past and in a fit of uncharacteristic chutzpah, walked into and asked if I could visit. There then followed a couple of hours being talked to - or at - by the very nice manager, who showed me the lovely stained glass windows, the fumigating cupboard for worm-prone books, converted out of a phone box (but not blue and with no flashing lights), the magazine collection (Woman's Home, Tatler), and the largest reading room in Asia. It is indeed very large. Then he told me about his childhood, his teenage-hood, the history of Parsis in Bombay, his employment background and that he was a Scout. He was a generous and pleasant fellow, but I hadn't eaten for 24 hours by that point, and my attention span was diminishing. I think even my “ah”'s and “hmmm”s died out eventually, and they're usually on automatic. The Petit library is worth an unscheduled visit, but eat first.
Grope count today: One ass-fondling. One breast-elbowing.
“Oh,” said my slum companion today, “that's because you are in a bad area. Bad people are there. You should give them a quick slap.” I think I'll do more than that, if I can get hold of them quick enough. More and more, I bless the man - because it probably was a man - who instituted Ladies Carriages. I am appreciating the sisterhood, especially on wheels.