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The Blood Hunters

Amuk’s Tamuk has been unwell. I can take a writer’s liberty right now and turn this into another horror story of the health care system in India. This time private and expensive. But I will be kind…. Amuk’s Tamuk has been unwell. He is being given blood. Quite a lot. At least more than any amount of blood being given, I have heard so far about. Ke garne ! (What to do - in Nepali). So Amuk has been mobilising people, sometimes with enticements like beer-after-blood, sometimes plain emotional blackmail. Whiskey, fruit juice and KFC treats also feature in the list. The whole process of blood collection has taken the proportion and logistics of an organised underground gang. Such efficient planning and innovations have been executed that Amuk and another friend were actually comtemplating starting a blood bank, as a business enterprise, after collection from one batch of donors. ‘How much will it cost to start a blood bank?’ ‘Can we get a bank loan? Will it run?’ 'Of course,...

So, masa? What is the moral of the story?

It is uncanny that last night we decided to watch Tere Bin Laden out of sheer lack of other activities to do. It is a nice film. Intelligently funny. I particularly loved some odd bits like the inability of the Khabri ’s assistant to close the umbrella. So there is nothing uncanny in the film itself. What is however is super uncanny is the fact that I got woken up, early in the morning, by my friends’ daughter with whom we watched the movie last night, to be told that Osama Bin Laden is dead. At first I thought they were joking. I mean the television people were joking. (My friends won’t wake me up to joke, I am sure about that). The friends daughter and I were convinced it is some another hoax and I decided to go back to sleep. My disbelief however turned soon into annoyance as I opened my facebook page few hours later. Why are all these people reacting to Osama’s death? There is a non-muslim Indian, living somewhere in Africa who is saying Allh-hu-Akbar – Allah is Great. America...

Love

:This story was removed from the blog as it was to be printed elsewhere. Last year, Chimurenga, an African journal (print and online) from Cape Town, South Africa, published the story. Since then I have received a few request to put it up on the blog. This time, it is for Aruni the lovely young writer. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ “He is such a typical black man!” – My friends often told me about my lover. My black women friends. Thandile would not be amused if I told him that. He is not the kind who takes criticism well, even teasing. So I did not tell him. He especially did not like non-blacks talking about black people. Only blacks could make jokes or observations about blacks. Non-blacks commenting on black people are racists. He and his friends referred to non-blacks as whites, Indians and coloureds. And they often told me Indian jokes. Why do Indians not play soccer? Because, if you give them a penalty...