Three incidents in the last one month has set me on a journey to find the truth.
I was in Bangkok airport. I had 7 hours to kill before my connection to Chennai would take off. In the transit lounge they had set up a play area for kids with plastic slides and chairs modelled like the airport. Two guys (from Andhra Pradesh is my guess.They spoke Telegu) wanted to take their photographs with them sitting on the toys. Absolutely nothing wrong with their intention. It would make for some good snaps to show off back home.The play area was small, so they couldn't get enough space to get the photograph as they wished it to be. They started pulling the things around, making some space for them to get around their problem. Perfectly alright. It doesn't make sense to have some photos with your faces partially visible or in shadows. They spend some time taking snaps in all different poses they could think off. Then they did the unpardonable. They left things as they were all dishevelled. I waited for them to put everything back. I threw some hints at them as to what they should be doing. They did not catch them or more importantly they didn't want to catch them. In my younger days I would have gone hammer and tongs at them. I am no longer young, not even at heart. I tried to do the next best thing. I thought I would shame them. A la Munna Bhai. I put down my laptop bag and set about arranging the toys to its original place. Initially they did not notice so engrossed in their conversation and when they became aware of what I was doing, they just looked on. As if the whole purpose of my birth was to do this.
At the Colombo airport, as I was coming out after collecting my baggage, the airport staff jumped in front of me and demanded to see the baggage tag. Probably my baggage didn't match my face. It was happening once too often.
At the restaurant, for breakfast, I put a couple of slices of bread in the toaster and when it popped up,I took them out and put them on a side plate. A lady of about 45 swooped down from nowhere and took it away. Her husband clearly embarassed looked away avoiding my eyes. And yes, they were Indians. I wonder what makes us Indians to be like this.
All this has made me philosophical and has made me wonder at the answer for the elusive question. 'Who am I?'.
Do I look like a comedian, a crook,or a sucker?
Is it the fault of the book? Or is it the cover?

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