Memories of India - The Friends

I took my last trip to Shilparamam at lunchtime to buy more paintings with my last pile of rupees. I was able to get five more miniatures for a very reasonable price, guess I'm a regular customer now. After completing my purchase I wandered around the market one last time and many of the shopkeepers remembered me. I got handshakes and blessings from many of them. A textile merchant named Sahil invited me into his shop for a cup of tea. My colleague and I both bought a few things from him before and frankly I expected another tough sales pitch but he brought us both a cup of tea and sat down for a quiet conversation. We shared some things about our homes and families and he asked me several times if I had a business card. Turns out they collect these in the market like we collect merchandise. He showed me his collection which had people from Google, Microsoft and a bunch of other companies. He made sure to give me his card so we can keep in touch and even invited me to stay with him in Kashmir someday. Based on past experience I won't take him up on the offer, I'd rather we remain friends:) Just the same I was deeply touched by this. Finally I asked him to show me some of his fine merchandise and he did, the best was a Peshmerga Silk blend which I couldn't afford. I did buy one more shawl from him, a beautiful piece that is reversible, blue on one side and gold on the other with embroidered flowers. He gave me the usual discount without complaint. I had to get back to campus for an afternoon meeting but I will long remember this brief visit to Shilparamam and the companionship of my Indian friends.

Our Muslim driver Zaheed is also becoming a friend. Yesterday we talked about his wife and family. He moved to Hyderabad about six years ago with his wife and child, his extended family lives about 200 kms outside the city. He showed us some photos and told us about their lives. As we got to know each other better he told me of his life, his challenges and his dreams for the future. He told me how he drove Steve Ballmer around when he was here and I know it was true, he was able to describe the blotches on Steve's face in great detail. Zaheed is good people.

Thursday night our corporate CIO showed up in Hyderabad, disrupted everyone's work and gave an all-hands meeting in the conference center attached to my hotel. There was a huge party afterwards. They hired one of the best local DJ's who had a great sound system and light show. The music was a sensuous blend of Hindi pop and as the rhythms throbbed I felt like I was in the middle of a Bollywood movie. Honestly I have never had so much fun dancing with a bunch of men in my life. I counted, there were 30 men and five women on the dance floor. I was talking to the director when one of my male colleagues grabbed me and said there was a request for my presence on the dance floor. He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me along after him. Many of the men here show great affection for each other and I've often seen them holding hands on the street. There I was in the midst of much younger men, all of us making fools of ourselves with great abandon and having a great time. Never have I felt so accepted despite my complete lack of skill in executing Indian dance moves. By the end of the evening I managed to exonerate myself pretty well, and to hear them talk my colleagues were impressed with my stamina. Somehow I managed to keep up for about four hours (very aerobic, I worked off my meal). Most of the dances emphasize the use of the hands, either raised or extended in front of you in various motions. The footwork was a mix of styles, some of it looked a bit like hip-hop which I learned from an old girlfriend's brother a long time ago. I haven't danced much for the past 10 years and I was surprised I remembered anything at all. At the end of the evening someone declared "you rock" and I felt 20 years younger.

The next morning I awoke to the sound of gentle Indian rain and lightning flashed across the sky. It mirrored my mood, I was not ready to leave but had to get up and pack anyway. Everything is carefully arranged for shipment, we'll see how much of it arrives in one piece.