Dear Reader,

Yesterday I went out to spend some time on my own. It is important to me, especially as an INTJ, even though the MBTI is not much more scientific than astrology, that I spend some time alone. Even as a Pisces, alone time is crucial for me. And when the house is filled with chaotic energy, alone time can only be found out in the crowded world. And when I say crowded as an Indian, I mean really crowded!

The weather here in Ahmedabad is quite pleasant right now. The temperature is perfect even though the air is a bit dry and a bit too polluted, but that’s the best we can hope for in a modern city in a developing nation. So, I took a bike taxi to Starbucks. Outside Starbucks, an old poor lady sits and begs all day. I wonder if she has to pay a hefty commission for such a prime spot. She doesn’t beg in the traditional way though, where one just asks for some alms and leaves the rest to the generosity of one’s potential patron. Instead, she comes up to you and tells you her problems in Gujarati. The last time I went there, she showed me an empty box of an inhaler and asked me to buy a refill for her. Even though I don’t really understand Gujarati, I got that she said, “I don’t want money, but help me get this medicine which I desperately need.”

This is a neat trick because I can’t accuse her, in my mind or out loud, of being just a lazy beggar who’s after money. She’s just a human being in need, asking another human being for some compassion. As an Indian who’s just spent 300 bucks on a coffee, it’s hard to deny that request. But since there are no drugstores nearby, you end up giving her 500 bucks for her medicine. Or at least that’s what I did the last time I was there.

So yesterday, she rushed over to me with a smile. I asked her if she bought the medicine and she said yes. Today though, she was hungry and wanted some food. I told her I’ll give her something on my way out and then went inside and ordered a 300 rupees tall latte. It was good. I sat and did some writing on my laptop. Starbucks was too crowded so I couldn’t sit for too long. Before leaving, I wanted to go to the washroom and the guy who went before me, spent 10 to 15 minutes in there, which means that he pooped in Starbucks. I could never poop at a restaurant or café, especially if I was out on a date, like that guy was.

Anyways, when I eventually peed and came out, the old lady rushed to me again and I fished in my wallet and gave her all the coins I had. She was disappointed. Someone who was so magnanimous a few days ago, literally short changed her. In my defense, I felt that I had done my fair share of helping that one individual and I was set (with her at least) for at least a month.

A little later that same day, I was in a different part of Ahmedabad, searching for an art supply store. It was a wholesaler who was said to have good brands at cheap prices. I found both to be untrue but what left me more disappointed was the fact that it wasn’t a modern store where you can go inside and browse. Instead, it was an old-style shop where you stand across a barrier and tell the clerk what you want and they get it for you. It made me realize how allowing customers to browse, leads to more sales. I didn’t know exactly what I wanted so I couldn’t tell the clerk. I just wanted to experience the joy of browsing, coming across something nice, desiring it and impulsively buying it. Consumerist joy at its best! These old shops deny us this most sacred experience of our times. Most stores have learned the secret of open aisles. These guys were wholesalers so their main customers were other shops. That’s why they had no need to keep up with the times.

Still, being a good consumer, I bought a dip pen set, some ballpoint pens and a bottle of black ink. Then I rushed out of the shop because I needed badly to pee. You see, before coming to this part of the city on another bike taxi, I had gone to Burger King to have lunch. I had a burger, fries and coke for 300 bucks. Then I went to pee and the washroom was occupied again. This time the wait was even longer till I realized that the staff had permanently locked the washroom. Maybe the janitor was on leave, or maybe there was something broken. Either way, I didn’t get to pee so by the time I came out of the disappointing art store, my back teeth were floating, as they say. I looked for public toilets nearby on google maps and found one 800 meters away.

I walked as fast as I could to what Ahmedabad calls a Smart Toilet. You need to insert coins to open the door and as it just happened, I had handed over all my coins to the old lady outside Starbucks. They didn’t have a coin changer or a QR code to make digital payments, which in my opinion isn’t too smart. I felt like that old lady had cursed me. I would have had to pee my pants or find a secluded place to urinate (which isn’t easy in a big city) and contribute to the stereotype of Indians being dirty.

Luckily, Indians are also good at something known as ‘Jugaad’. Which basically means, hacking solutions where none exist. As I was thinking about how to hack the situation, a guy walked up to use the toilet. I explained my situation to him and he said that he’ll use the toilet first and then he’ll hold the door open and let me in. Thinking back, I should have just asked him for a coin. It would have been a good way to end this story with me having to beg for change to save my bladder. But for some reason neither of us, thought of that. The first solution that came to our Indian brains was, we’ll both use the toilet with one coin. And it seemed good enough that we didn’t feel the need to brainstorm any other solutions.

He went in, did his business, came out, and held the door open for me. I went in to pee, wondering how easy it was to hack this so called smart toilet. But when I closed the door, the light turned off and an alarm started blaring. It was pitch black inside. The smart toilet was outsmarting me. I got my smart phone out, turned on the flashlight and outsmarted the outsmarting smart toilet with my smart phone.

When I came out, a security guard appeared and scolded me for not putting in a coin. I made a pitiful face and explained that I didn’t have any coins. He wasn’t interested in my explanations as he had to go inside and reset something.

With that, I decided to end my day out and head home. That’s all I have to say. No deep lessons here. Maybe some sarcastic jibes at our consumer culture. That’s all I can come up with for this special 007 letter. Not very Bond like.

Thanks for reading anyway,

Rudya Aditya