Talking Letters - 2

Dear Baku,

When the driving coordinator tells you the bus will pick you up at Majakia, when the drivers tell you the pick-up is from Majakia, you go looking for Majakia. It’s a good thing that there are other colleagues who wait at that bus stop. And once you know where that place is you know where you need to go the next day, every day. But still one keeps looking for Majakia. Just to make sure. Few days pass. You haven’t found it yet. You go to the driving coordinator’s office for some work and read the bus schedule and, hence, a name on the board. Next morning there is no difficulty locating ‘mothercare’. Acha majak kiya. Khoob maja kiya. mothercare. Majakiya.

On ‘five parallel’ just behind the building where I stay there is a meat shop. Early morning (when I cross) they, on few days, have a bull there. They are in the process of making it one big piece of beef. But what bloody crude way? They tie the legs with four ropes at four distant poles and that’s about it, out come the blades. Where are your butcheries?

You know my views on the beauty of the women that walk your streets. The more I say the less it seems. What about the men? Let’s talk about their stupidity. Was it just to compensate for the extra portion of beauty in one half, the other half had to lose out on their share of brains? At least half of the men just stand in front of their buildings all day long. Doing what? You should know better. This is what they do in the flights. They are sitting, all calm and ready for the flight to take off. As the stewardess’ are in their seats the smart guys take out their phones. As we hit the runways they are texting, talking on the phones and stay on phone till the signal let them be. And same story while landing. As the lights are switched off for landing the phones are out. And as the wheels touch the runaway half of them are out of their seats trying to get their luggage from overhead cabins and running towards the door. Poor stewardesses have to shout through the PA, on an occasion in fact one left her seat and started pushing these four time bigger men back into their seats. And those who are not running to find their luggage when the wheels touch the gravel, just when they feel that they can’t crash now and are safe they let out the breath they have held for last three hours since we took off, breathe some air in and start clapping. Pilots would love to come here. Rarely are they applauded anywhere else. I guess it’s not the men’s fault. Staying among your beauties it’s not that hard to lose whatever mind you have in the first place.

By the way, I thought Baki was your girlfriend’s name. But that’s what they call you in your language.

Found about the lucky child who got some 20,000 Azeri Manats this Novruz. Lucky fella, nine millionth citizen of your country. Well planned sex can bear some good results.

The girl who sits opposite in the office shares her name with the first lady. Mekhriban, Mehriban. One with k and one without, though it’s silent. Karan Johar would like that. Grateful, that’s what Mekhriban said mekhriban means. Well I am not sure about others but I am grateful that every time I look up from my laptop screen there is a beautiful face to behold. There will be a break from that routine now. I am off to Perth for a month. Keep the beauties safe and I will be back by the time spring turns into summers. They tell me summers give the fairer sex here a better chance to express themselves. We shall see.

Time to cook some dinner my friend.

Narayan Desai (T)