Paap No Paschatap

Why do we Indians stick out like sore thumbs wherever we go? In the middle of Gottingen, we expected to be accosted by different types of Germans and the odd Asian, but we instead encountered a rotund gentleman from Solapur - who growled 'Buttirrrr?' at the very frightened looking German hostess in a breakfast buffet and after some time followed it up with a solidly bellowed 'Wattirrr?' ... charming. Just charming. Especially the part where he forgot to read the sign that suggested 'Self-Service'.

The 'Paap' part happened when we were locking up our door ... we distinctly heard an agitated female voice say ... "Yeh Paap Hain!!!!" (We presumed the same character from above was involved in this as well ... I mean how many Indians could be in Gottingen right??!) Obviously our overactive imaginations went into hyperdrive, imagining the various situations that could have provoked her to say that. Note - she didn't say the much-oftenly-used 'yeh galat hain', it was the word of sin ... 'PAAP'.

Options of things that might have been 'paap' or 'paapi' that we immediately came up with -

1) They mistakenly ate a currywurster and only then realized that they weren't plops of paneer but umm ... plops of ... some animal's body part?!

2) Sirjee from Solapur had bought a little firangi item number for himself back to the room when he was accosted by Mrs Sirjee from Solapur.

3) They had mistakenly wandered into the sex shop that was next door to our hotel and had purchased a few 'necessities' to only now realize their actual usage ... maybe that was not an electric blender after all :-)

Yup. That's it. For me - those were the heights or depths of paapi-ness that someone could stoop to to be referred to as having committed a treasonable 'paap'.

And oh - we spent the after-ness of the definitive German win at the World Cup in Gottingen. Its a super tiny student town, and needless to say, the undergrads displayed great maturity and dignity to celebrate the win ... by tossing bottles, cans, climbing on any public structure over 3 ft and roaring like they had just lifted the bloody World Cup itself.

And finally a video ...

And that's that. More pictures from the town of Gottingen in my next post. Don't wait with bated breath - you may die of disappointment.

And finally - the Name of the Rose is over. Marvelous, stupendous and a totally fabulous read. Can't wait to pick up another Eco, although I have been warned that this was his best. Damn. Now have started on a biography of sorts on Richard Attenborough ... bios are usually not my thing, but then who really does know until you've had a go at one, right?!

Cheerios my dears.

Sush