US elections today, but thanks to time lag, actual results won’t be until tomorrow lunchtime. Work through six days of email while Vic buys silk stuff for all at home. Six hours later, the junk has been removed and the stuff to answer remains.

Lou’s birthday today, so give her a special call saying Hi. I get a Poem back.

Don't be a mourner:
There's Indian fauna,
Cockroaches, a sauna and rain.

From meat you abstain,
Get crushed on the trains,
And avoid all aqueous fruit.

Now and then when it suits
(They don't give a hoot)
Holy cows fall asleep in the street.

John's bike is quite neat...
But you still use your feet
(Although you've swapped trainers for sandals).

You eat dinner by candles,
The mosquitos are vandals,
And a lizard lives under your fridge.

I know I'm not wrong:
You're wearing a sarong
And have taken to cooking with spice.

You're living on rice,
Which just isn't nice
Unless it's served with a curry!

Just don't you worry,
Or be in a hurry,
It'll all be over too soon!

Meanwhile, farewell to Vic as we drop her at Bangalore airport for the seventeen hour journey back to Brum. Small shreds of regret that I’m not going back now too, but on reflection, it’s not as though six weeks is a long time before I return for Christmas either.

Dinner take away with Shiv—small talk chit chat with some Paneer Kofta. Apparently, he has lost both his parents this year, so understandably he needed some time out of Mumbai here in Bangalore. He returns home Sunday.