Archive for the ‘Phil’s Photos’ Category

खिलौना Story

It's a huge, gorgeous oil painting.
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This is an oil painting made by a lovely old painter man here in Bangalore. His real profession is painting signs for Bollywood and Kollywood and Sandalwood movies; his real passion is painting huge, realistic canvases of Indian landscapes and ruins; but his real money comes from doing goofy shit like this for crazy expats like our friend, who we will not name here for legal reasons. We’re next, though. Oh yes. We are next.

More photos soon, and the detailed story of our visit to this artist and his studio as soon as Pam is done making me dinner. And yes, I know the Hindi glyphs don’t match…

Our New 1999 Enfield Machismo

machismo
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My first motorcycle ever ! Glad it’s an Enfield, the quintessential Indian two-wheeler.

There is a whole mythology that surrounds Enfields in India. In the classic expat-outlaw-on-the-lam-in-India novel, “Shantaram,” the protagonist buys himself a beat up old Enfield Bullet and cruises the countryside like Dennis Hopper in “Easy Rider,” or Michael Parks in “Then Came Bronson.” There are cinderblock Enfield repair shops everywhere, with grease all over the walls and mechanics who look like they bathe in motor oil.

And one of our friends, it was either Alex or Andrew, said if you are going to ride a bike in India, it’s just rude not to ride an Enfield.

Pam is worried that it may be dangerous for me to drive it here in Bangalore, and I fully agree. But for now, I have no idea how to even start the thing.

Why Do You Keep Doing That ?

Area Chicken Crosses Road
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Why Don’t We Do It In The Road

rice
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…I was talking about drying freshly harvested rice. Why, what did you think I meant?

Sai Baba Music Academy

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The guru Sai Baba owns Puttaparthi, really. He built most of it, anyway, from close to nothing, we hear. Schools, incredible hospitals, tennis stadiums, infrastructure of which the locals are justifiably and insistently proud. Prominent among these local institutional treasures is this, the Sai Baba‘s musical academy.

One hopes the music is at least as inspiring as the architecture.

Actually it may be more so: when we saw the man they call Swami hold court in front of hundreds of adoring subjects at his lavish ashram, there were live musicians and singers leading the crowd in undending waves of song. It would build to a frenzy, settle down, change course, and build again, for hours, with no interruption from Sai Baba save the occasional motion of his hand bringing a small white handkerchief to his mouth.

And frankly, the music was awesome.

Puttaparthi Phil

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