Mushroom

Right, I was going to stick to my guns on this until Chris Saul starting sending people over here to check the 111 letters out. So, purely in Mr. Saul's honour, another excerpt from 111 Letters for all Occasions.

But that's it. No more until next week. No. No. No.

Asking Forgiveness

I am mushroom on which the dew of your grace drops now and then.

Let us harbour no thoughts of revenge, for revenge proves its own executioner.

Ours are the silent griefs which cut the heartstrings. Let us shake hands with time. Let us drown our differences in a cocktail at Ashoka Hotel tomorrow at 6.30pm.

Yours,

More

I don't know why I'm so weak, I really don't. Here, then. But I'm not posting up any more of these until next Sunday. You'll just have to put up with the same old dross until then.

So. More excerpts from That Great Work, 111 Letters For Every Occasion.

Letters of Divorce

Divorces are not yet as common in the East as in the West, but the poisonous wind blowing around the world is infecting Indian youth. And we must do our best to protect our heritage of harmonious marital relations.

To the Mother

I am not feeling happy with Manmohan. He is given to liquour and has illicit sex relations with his brother’s wife.

O God, what should I do?

Positive Reply

Please have patience. Keep courage. Pray. Try to win Manmohan back from the part of evil.

I am sure God will help you.

Negative Reply

Your letter is shocking.

Really I do not know what to do.

Shall we consult a lawyer?

Consulting a lawyer

My husband and his mother are maltreating me and my life is very miserable. I am really living in hell. It is now for more than six months that we are separated.

Will it be possible for me to get divorce?

Positive Reply

I think it is possible for you to seek divorce under the circumstances that you have mentioned.

Please come to my office for further action.

Negative Reply

My gentle lady why must you hurry for a divorce?

Take time to cool down.

Letters

I have a number of prized possessions, for which I am thankful. Some of them are relatively valuable, like my first edition Seven Pillars of Wisdom and The Mint. Some have no value, like a neem leaf from a Buddhist temple in Sri Lanka or a rhododendron leaf from Cloud’s Hill. Some of them have a different value, like my 1845 copy of Household Management, an early cookbook. And some of them are simply beyond value. Into this last category falls my copy of a book called 1111 Letters For All Occasions. It is a work of insane genius. The authors are K. Malik, Anand Sagar and JS Bright. To them, and to New Light Publishers of New Delhi, I am eternally indebted. The book is intended to be a template for every letter you will ever have to write in life. All you have to do is pick up 1111 Letters, flick to the appropriate section (Matrimony, employment, commercial, official and others) and look up the letter you need. Although occasionally tempted to use one, I have always allowed wiser counsel to prevail.

I found 1111 Letters in an old stationery shop in Sharjah. It was lying, unloved and unwanted inbetween some Islamic esoterica and some charts for small children to learn how a tooth is formed. I idly picked it up, was instantly enraptured and bought it on the spot regardless of cost, considerable or otherwise. I simply had to have it.

“This must be regarded as the unique book of its kind. No author has ever attempted to write such a large number of letters, covering every walk and talk of correspondence.” Say the authors modestly in the preface, noting that when the publisher commissioned this great work the authors were hesitant to take on a task of such enormity. But, luckily: “When we proceeded deep into the woods of the correspondence, we found the jungle both fascinating and rewarding.” They finish their introduction with an assurance. “The reader will reap the fruits which the authors sowed and we are sure he will relish it.”

You can sing that one, boys. Never has one relished so much as I. The book’s charm lies partly in its strange and colourful language but mostly in the fact that its authors have simply made up a number of scenarios and written letters to suit these. We are therefore introduced to a whole fictitious universe, the lives of Manmohan, Singh, Prabakher, Lal and others are exposed as they quarrel, seek appropriate daughters, ship goods to each other, fall out and then go to court. Their strange correspondences give a new insight into an odd and wonderful world.

The following is a typical slice of the genius on offer in this most compendious and compelling of works.

Failing to keep appointment

You had promised to meet me in the Stock Exchange but you never turned up.

What is the fun of having any appointment when one does not have the capacity to keep it.

Reply to the above

Dear Mr Lal

You are mistaken. You had promised to meet me in the bank and not the Stock Exchange.

I fear your memory needs some training.

With best wishes

Yours sincerely

Sohan Kumar

Reply to Reply

Nonsense!

You are a dirty liar.

We had an appointment in the Stock Exchange and not in the bank.

Final Reply

Please don’t lose temper.

There could have been some kind of misunderstanding between us.

Let bygones be bygones.

The above is carefully typed and verbatim. It is only a scintilla from what is, to steal a certain Dubai Shopping Mall’s catchphrase, a rare collection of wonderful things. I shall offer more on a weekly basis, I think.

Decent

Sharjah Municipality has ordered shop dummies, or mannequins, to be rendered headless and to be decently clothed. The Gulf News gleefully reports: “A circular was recently sent to all shops stating the heads of mannequins be removed and that they are forbidden to wear underwear, to uphold the traditional and religious values of the emirate.”

The rather posh boutique shop Allied, now called Tanagra, has had a branch in King Faisal Street in Sharjah since time immemorial. Long famous for selling uber-brands such as Baccarat and Cristofle, Allied also sells a neat line (if you like that sort of thing) in Neo Lladro figurines. Many of these consist of women, single or in groups, in classical poses and therefore with ‘milkbars out’. Allied, since the 1980s, has always tied little cloth bikinis to them – a nod to local culture that I have always found delightfully quaint. You wonder if their new owners ever get them home and feel ever so naughty as they tug on the wee knots on the back.

I do hope they’re not going to have to chop their heads off now.

Ramadan Kareem

The Luddites at the Sharjah Electricity and Water Authority (SEWA) had messed up our bill payment because their payments are managed by Empost and therefore you can pay your bill outside their billing cycle. Once you’re there, you are guaranteed a ever-increasing stay in Outworld, with everything screwing up more and more as each month goes by and each payment getting credited in the wrong place at the wrong time. The only solution is to go down there physically and talk to someone with direct access to their prehistoric computer system and command of a UN recognised language. The latter is usually the big problem.

SEWA’s offices in Ramadan are a listless, torpid place: you can actually physically feel the effort as everyone flops around trying to conserve energy. Come to think of it, SEWA’s offices are like that outside Ramadan, too…

I was waiting to speak to the head of the front office, a laconic Palestinian bloke, who was dealing with an agitated local. The conversation tickled me pink, and went (taking up from when I rolled up, obviously) like this:

“The bill’s not paid and the computer has you down for disconnection. That’s why we disconnected it.”

“But the boss pays the bill and he’s not here.”

“I can’t help that. Your boss has to pay the bill.”

“We’ve been without water for two days. Just give me the key for the water!”

“I can’t do that. You have to pay the bill before we can reconnect it. It’s on the computer.”

“You’re a dog and so’s your computer!”

At which the local turned on his heel and strode off. Now calling someone a dog in the Arab world is not generally considered to be polite, to put it lightly.

“Ramadan Kareem” retorted the SEWA chap. It was delivered impeccably: a perfectly timed mixture of remonstration and effyewtoo. Ramadan Kareem is a traditional wish at Ramadan and means ‘Ramadan is generous’. The month is not only a religious observance but is also meant to be a time of piety, reflection and community and using bad language or being naughty are no-nos.

The local turned at the door. “And you know what you can do with your Ramadan Kareem, too!” He shouted.

I felt I had witnessed a moment of true humanity and was still grinning as I left a few minutes later, despite being considerably lighter in the pocket.

Salik Debate Rages as 4WD Shortcut Blocked

Shock horror! Gulf News today reports widespread negative public voice regarding Dubai's proposed Salik road toll system. Salik (see earlier post) aims to charge users of two of Dubai's busiest roads a little over a dollar each time they pass the RFID scanner. Residents, expatriate and local alike, are more than a little concerned about how the scheme will affect traffic flows as people try and avoid the toll, according to GN's unusually critical report.

Reader polls carried out by GN reflect an overwhelming 'no' vote to the whole scheme. While you'd expect this from people who are about to have to pay money they don't want to pay, over 70% don't think the toll will reduce congestion on the tolled roads although over 70% also said they wouldn't use the tolled roads. And 49% said they won't buy the Salik tags.

Woopsie!

The scheme goes live on the 1st July, so that'll be all very interesting.

Meanwhile my journey to work today was enlivened by the fact that some blockhead has decided to dump a load of huge concrete blocks across the desert tracks that an increasing number of 4WD owners have been using as a short cut to work between Sharjah and Dubai. Why anyone would think that there was any harm or damage being caused by a few intrepid souls slipping over the short stretch of deeply rural sand dunes that separate the Sharjah back road from the Dubai back road is a mystery. Another mystery is why anyone thought that you could block the desert by dumping concrete blocks across a few tracks.

But the consequences this morning were remarkable, to say the least. There must have been at least fifty 4WD vehicles in various states of bogged down out there, ranging from just starting to bog through stuck in a ditch that they hadn't noticed to utterly bogged down and hopelessly stuck. There were people running around, digging and towing other cars out, bouncing trucks flying over sandy humps, their grinding wheels throwing up clouds of sand over everyone on foot and all manner of offroaders trying to circumnavigate the blocked tracks. A massive, fantastic fairground of Hollywood road movie style vehicular insanity. Think Smoky and the Bandit mixed with the Cannonball Run and Lawrence of Arabia and you're starting to get the picture.

I picked my way through it all, as well as past the silly, redundant blocks, hardly able to focus on my path through as I watched the madness all around me, open mouthed and in a state of blissful wonderment.

What you need, chaps, is a Salik station in the desert. That'll sort 'em out...