Hiking a trail of broken promises...in flipflops

Alright, I owe anyone who might still be reading this monstrosity a rather forthright apology. I realize that along with a total faliure to provide photograpic images which I had mentioned some ghastly gargantuan time ago I also managed to bollocks-up a perfectly sane albeit factually questionable post a few days back. So, as forthright apologies are like all important manifestations of human emotion, only appropreate in person...we'll be forgetting about that for the time being. As to the pictures, yes I have them I'll post them soon I promise. The remaining issue of the unfinnished or at least weakly finnished blog entry of 21November uh...I was going to suggest that Delhi is not unlike the city in the film Dark City where a race of sadistic yet wickedly dressed and congenitally bald aliens control an artificial habitat in the form of a 1950's noir city. Their reasons are naturally malevolent and intriguing but completely without connection to my observations here. The crux of the problem for the hapless subjects who live within this city lies in its(the city's) habitual practice of changing like a giant temporal rubix cube, every night shifting it's own ramshackle construction to a completely different form. It also remains permanently nighttime and the population are naturally in the grips of a mind control which keeps them oblivious to anything untoward. Except as a matter of course the protagonist who manages to overcome the mind control and blah blah blah. So, my thesis is thus; Dehli is a like the Dark City, from the film DarkCity in that its buildings change and morph into each other on a nightly basis due to an unstable temporal fabric in its area of spacetime.

I'm glad we got that sorted anyway.

I must admit a second and even a third act of negligence partaining to my last blog entry. I had stated that I would expound upon the subject of team work. I have decided against that, what a silly topic, it needs now more expounding upon than the subject of a T-Bone steak...possibly less in my case as my current lust for red meats has driven me not twice but thrice to semiviolent acts of culinary experimentation...but I digress. Teamwork, if you dont know abouit it yet all I can say is get on the trolly already.
The other as yet un touched upon subject of promised mention is that partaining to people with too much gumption. In this case I use the term gumption as it ios synonomous with "nerve" "hustpah"(sp?) or the rather more apt and vulgar "cajones"(spanish pronounciation). It was a man whome I met in my usual Hookah den on Tolstoy Marg that inspired my need to comment on this un-yet-all-too common "quality" of human nature. This dude..we will call him Jan ( with the j phonetically replaced with a y) was a man of 50 with well coiffed grey hair, fine clothes, a casual demeanor and panchant for chain smoking and friendly conversation. It was revealed in due course that he was a religious man, and a family man to boot. We chatted of many a thing on our first meeting seemingly basking a joint appreciation of our surroundings. We parted on friendly terms having established an agreement on most every item of our sundry discussions. A day later I saw Jan again I was with other companions of a younger persuasion and Jan seemed to opt out of any further conversation at this juncture. A day later, never one to deny a daily ritual, I returned for an evening pipe and cappucino when who should show up but our all to possibly swedish friend. He came over to my booth and chatted with some notable trepidation. I remarked that he seemed a man with something on his mind and offered him a Hookah which he declined in favor of a steady stream of Willes Gold brand ciggaretes. It was over the course of this carcinogenic binge that he managed to demonstrate to my all too naive surprise that he was in fact a man with too much gumption. To make a convaluted set of sentances more practical and objective I shall cut totyeh chase and say that he asked me for money. No guns or extortive threats were involved, he simply decided that clearly I was a 22 year old of considerable means* and a good hearted (chump) of sorts who might be able to provide his children with further education and himself with another set of suits to add to his already proven collection. I declined by way of my recently purchased can of junky repellant which it turned out is quite effective on smokers with no apparent addiction to controlled substances. I then motioned as non chalontly as seemed appropreate with my newly aquired defence implement that he would do well to leave me and my two apple and mint sheesha mixture to our selves. At this point things heated up and after a short struggle I managed to subdue him with half a can of silly string and Ganesh shaped bronze ashtray. It was not a moment later that Raj, my hookah man, returned to refill my coals and seeing my condition rushed to my assistance and together we bunged out the blight in all the manner attributed to the old boys of Pelican club. Having tipped Raj for his assitance and returning to the solace of my Hookah pipe I began to consider that this issue of to much gumption might be worth a blog entry, though I admit that then, as now, I have no real point to make on the subject except that "beware Greeks baring gifts" is a grossly limited appropreation of a very univeral and varied concept and that M. Singh's Patonted Junkie Repellant ought to be legal in Canada.

Chris

PS
I would like to add that in addition to the formentioned thing about greeks which I believe can be rightly attributed to Homer. I also object top that particular author's insistance that all dawns are "rosie fingered". I would like to add further that Homer can thabnk Nick Nolte for making me care about that most over used description in the first place. I my self have known many a dawn to be downright Gnarely knuckled and I challenge Mr. H to say otherwise.