The Indian Incontinent

Almost in all major metros of the hot Indian subcontinent, a cloud cover is a welcome development with distinct foreboding overtones. Especially if it is a weekday, you know it\’s going to be cool outside, but you dread the traffic if it so much as drizzles. It\’s a good thing, but it\’s a bummer; you want to be happy, but you\’re being held back — a schizophrenic feeling, adding to the already bipolar nature of an Indian metro, where the uber-rich live alongside the uber-poor,  where a Bentley is stuck in the same jam as a Luna. Why do they have to wait for a flood to declare a public holiday? Do it when you see the clouds in the horizon; we will telecommute. I promise I\’ll work! The geography of India is not weird, it\’s our cities — they\’re just tumorous now. I can\’t help but crack a crude joke: \”Is this the Indian subcontinent or the Indian incontinent?\”