Category Archives: Rose Apple Island

Bodhgaya: don’t need a full moon for crazy

Posted on November 22, 2012 by subincontinentia

Even a full moon looks dusty in Bodhgaya. Beneath it’s grubby glow, a group of high-spirited Indian youths hijack a merry-go-round in a fair that’s closed for the night. One of them mounts a plastic baby goat while the others … Continue reading →

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Double-sided drum

Posted on November 21, 2012 by subincontinentia

This morning my bicycle rickshaw passed a goat dressed in a turquoise sweater. “Perfectly natural,” said Alice, “since it is rather chilly.” These days, a damp, bone-chilling fog fills Bodhgaya in the early hours, burns off for a few hours … Continue reading →

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The same son

Posted on November 19, 2012 by subincontinentia

It’s not easy to find out how someone died in India. You invariably receive the most meager explanation. Sometimes simply a body part. “Stomach,” or “Heart” or “Liver.”  So, when I asked Sunil how Rakesh’s father died, he didn’t feel … Continue reading →

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The bucket bath….millions do it, so can you!

Posted on November 7, 2012 by subincontinentia

A LESSON FOR NON-INDIANS IN 20 EASY STEPS. YOU WILL NEED: 1 ten litre plastic bucket at 225 INR (or 300 depending on whether you or your Indian friend buys it) 1 plastic jug at 50 INR (or 100 depending … Continue reading →

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The Delhi police, the CIA, and…me

Posted on November 4, 2012 by subincontinentia

I visualized bodacious diplomats in double-breasted suits shinnying down ropes from black helicopters, flashing their business cards and saying things like, “We’ll take it from here, ma’am.” The knock had the tone of entitlement. So I was only mildly surprised … Continue reading →

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The man in the catamaran

Posted on July 6, 2012 by subincontinentia

I took this photo in Kerala. Every time I look at it I feel something different about it. Yesterday, when I felt lonely, it was an image of loneliness. At other times, it’s an image of a fisherman quite happily … Continue reading →

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The Fatal Accident

Posted on June 18, 2012 by subincontinentia

Debu the Astrologer was on his third whiskey. He gestured with his glass in my general direction narrowly missing hitting the bottle with his right elbow. “Stop seeing that young man!” he shouted across the room at me. I was … Continue reading →

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Dust in the navel of the world: part one

Posted on May 8, 2012 by subincontinentia

In the groundless dust of Bodhgaya the beggars actually chase you down. Even the ones without legs. A riot of of monks, nuns and lay practitioners from all Buddhist traditions are here for a massive prayer ceremony for world peace. … Continue reading →

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They all died in a pink submarine…

Posted on May 7, 2012 by subincontinentia

I have no idea how old it is, but it looks like it could have been designed in the 17th century by the submarine’s inventor, Cornelius van Drebbel himself, whose craft reached a depth of 15 feet during trials in … Continue reading →

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The lop-eyed astrologer

Posted on May 2, 2012 by subincontinentia

“Look, what beautiful silks he has! He’s inviting us into his shop!” Daniel stopped and spun around on one foot in a bouncy half pirouette. For the past half hour, Lucy and I had been practically chasing after him through … Continue reading →

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