Batman Begins...

Batman Begins right at 1:35, exactly what the ticket says, except for one thing. It really begins. I mean, everyone from the 11:00 show pours out, shoving through the crowd trying to get in, and the movie has already begun before half of the new crowd can find their seats, which luckily, are assigned. The theatre is pitch black as you push in through the doors. Ushers with high candle-power flashlights show each and everyone to their seats. People continue to straggle in for the next half hour, and ushers move through the seats. People are all talking; talking about getting some popcorn, something to drink. They're sending text messages and using the lights from their phones to rummage through purses for tissues, and other mundane tasks. The movie was spectacular, probably the best Batman movie since the first one. Right at the climax comes the intermission. 10 minutes pass. Popcorn is retrieved from outside, and the process of resettling into seats takes place during a preview for an upcoming Bollywood movie, which, I gathered, was something about the Bombay gangster underworld. The lead actor is an Indian Al Pacino. Looks like it'd be worth checking out. I wonder if they have English subtitles.

So eventually Batman Begins ends, and we are the people shoving our way out between the throngs clawing to catch the opening sequence of the 4:00 show, between the bumpers of tightly packed valet parked cars, followed by row upon row of scooter, motorcycle, and strange hybrids inbetween. This species of vehicle here is called a "two wheeler". That's a term I stopped using around the time I stopped using training wheels, but in this context the difference between "two wheeler" and "four wheeler" makes a lot of sense. Most people get around on some form of two-wheeler or another. Gas is expensive, the streets crowded, and even parking a car anywhere is a luxury few can afford.

I've had a few terrifying rides on the backs of two wheelers for various reasons. The important thing to remember is that you have no control. Find a good hand grip, keep your feet up, good posture, and place all faith in the person at the helm. People do it all the time, right? I mean , I see women sitting side-saddle in saris as their husbands take them home. I see families of four precariously balanced on mopeds in stop-and-go traffic 6 "lanes" wide. A father and son with a 25" tv on the kid's lap, balancing for all he's worth. How bad could my lot be, right? I keep telling myself this to keep calm. This is normal. People do it all the time. We whip clockwise around a circle, and fly off down a road like a pinball off the spring release, down into bumpers and flashing lights, we never seem to fall. Trust the pinball wizard I say. He's got such a supple wrist, revving the engine, grabbing clutch and brake. How do you think he does it? I don't know. What makes him so good?

I'm working on spreadsheets at the office this week, combing through ream upon ream of Indian Bureaucratic documents, tallying up various forms of corrupt acts, committed by all level of civil servant, in all of 28 districts that make up Karnataka State. The spreadsheet. When you get into this kind of work, it's not long before it's all automatic. The "in" stack on the left gradually moves into the "out" stack on the right. The sands of the hourglass pass from top to bottom, and it's time to go. I've been spending my afternoons and evenings making instant noodles with my primative hot water heater, drinking imitation Tang, and heading into downtown to buy presents for people back home. I'm just busy enough. Just enough time to read books, do push-ups, swat mosquitoes, and stare out the window. It's really OK. I relish the private time here. It's dawned on me just how rare a silent, uninhabited corner is here. Isolation is really at a premium. I imagine there's a market for it that's controlled by some mysterious cabal like the DeBeers family has on diamonds. They've been kind to me. I must owe them a favor by now.

So next week I travel. I'll be headed to Hampi, a backpacker temple town, then on to Pune to visit Public Heath colleagues doing their research up there, on to Bombay, and then down the coast into Goa and points south. Should be a blast, though the monsoons are coming, and I hear the sea is filled with jellyfish. No matter. I'll find a cabana and a coconut drink one way or another, rain or shine.