Shenanigans

In many ways Singapore is like Chennai – with its hot-humid climate and Tamil hoardings and so many tamilians. At the airport we were greeted by a rude taxi-driver who cribbed about us bringing those big bags. The reason – they were not fitting in the boot of his car. What solution did he come up with? To our shock, he came up with what we call as an Indian jugaad (there is no English equivalent to it). He tied the half-open cover of the boot with a cycle-tube.

I spent the afternoon in the cozy hotel room catching up with all the lost sleep. In the night, we went to a place called “Little India” to have some food. After that ordeal with those noodles, I decided to be less adventurous and opted for a good old masala-dosa. Calling home (to tell the anxious parents that I was well) was another tough job. After buying a calling-card, I had to call a toll-free number to India. I tried but the machine-voice on the other side spoke in Tamil. From my limited knowledge of tamil, I guessed that she was telling me to dial the number but even after dialing she told me to do something else which I had no idea. I got frustrated and felt like kicking that damn public phone. Finally, a kind soul helped me out by acting as an interpreter and he told me that the voice was telling me to hold-on!!!