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Showing posts from 2013


I opened up my mail during lunch time to see a letter from the editor inviting us to write some article for 'Voice' and the topic was 'Incarnational presence' . My immediate thought was, ' there will be enough people contributing so I will let this pass'. I walked back to the OPD after lunch. From a distance I saw Jessica cycling , I thought she had a small bundle at the back. Beautiful Jessica smiled from the heart and waved at me even as she said , 'Welcome back to the campus, good to have you back. ' I waved at her and thanked her as she cycled past. What I saw then will remain with me for a long time, I know. It was 'little Adam' on her back on the cycle with her . He had a cap on and with the two tiny hands, that miracle child was holding onto his mother's back 'firmly' even as he enjoyed the speed of the bicycle. I stared long and hard at those tiny hands those tiny grip.

This fiction happened.

(An assignment from the fiction writing course). On 22nd December 1938 ,at seven thirty in the evening, Phugu Dorjee, having served his master a frugal supper of fresh potato with vegetables ,went out for a quick stroll to the market place. He was sitting on the hearth of one of the stalls. At seven forty five ,a sentry on a horseback, came trotting into town beating a drum. ..'citizens,please listen........ his majesty, the chogyal(King) of Sikkim,has given an urgent call to all the citizens of Lachung to vacate town as soon as possible.A big glacier is expected to sweep through town any moment....hear,.hear!.'. Phugu Dorjee rushed back to the mission house where he saw his master's study door pull closed. It was time for Pilkenin Sahab's evening devotion.He prefered not to be disturbed. The matter was urgent so Phugu Dorjee knocked at the door,opened it judiciously and said, ' Sahab, a big glacier is expected to sweep through town any moment.E


Muqarram would have been twenty three years old.He worked as a barber in notorius Muzzafarnagar.He was brought in by his parents barely breathing ,he had a tachycardia of around 170 beats per minute.He was being treated as tuberculosis by the local quacks. He had chronic rheumatic valvular heart disease with florid Mitral regurgitation,Aortic regurgutation,Mitral stenosis and presented with congestive cardiac failure and infective endocardites. Thus began our tyrst with this young man. Everyday we would hopefully go to his bed-side to see some kind of progress. Blood cultures were hard to come by and he had to travel a distance of more than 60 kms to get the echocardiography.He was hardly stable to make that journey. Everyday during the rounds I would chat a little bit with his parents.Mother was an unusually strong serene person who never got on our way.The father did all he was asked to without any question. Muqarram would give us a mute ,blank look everyday i

The ordinary bread.

I am in the church.The preacher is a muslim convert.He is preaching from Isaiah.He is reiterating the Word in full gusto.I listen,I pray ,I pray hard-Oh Lord please inspire me today. The choir sings beautifully.I pray to the Lord of my heart please Lord ,inspire me. There is a call for the Lord's supper. The lady's line touches the door but the men's line has just four people in it. Taking a cue from one of the old nurses I change into the men's line. I walk up to the Lord's supper and give a reverant glance at the supper before me. I see crumbs of ordinary chapatti ,hastily torn by the preacher into small pieces. It deeply touches my heart. How I forget time and again ,my master. You have called us to eat the ordinary bread in reverence,in the memory of you. When you are in it ,the ordinary becomes sacred.

So much water has....

Walking with Angel this evening in HCH made me realise just how much water has flown under the bridge.As I walked with her ,enjoying her eloquence and her take on what is happening in her life and that of her parent's and her little brother Joshua's,I was painfully aware of the shift in time. The joy of connecting with the child and learning what was happening with her filled me with a sense of awe . She talked about her music which seems to excite her and the piano exams which were around the corner.She also seems to be part of the advanced choir in school. I always relate Angel to the little child who would rush out of the door every now and then to give me updates on what was  happening ,anytime she felt her mother was struggling in any way when her dad was away in the field. I also relate her to a little girl who used to pray for us every night in a single breath.I have, on so many uncertain dark days taken comfort in the prayer of this little child. A child she is ,t

Getting back.

I am yet to get some kind of equilibrium in my place of work . I missed the sunday rest even as I travelled to jolly grant to attend the seminar on scrub typhus. Now that the weekend is approaching I am feeling the brunt of it. I struggled through the OPD today especially just before lunch when my sugars I think were hitting a low and then towards the evening when the cards did not look like finishing. The deadline for my first assignment with the fiction writing is also fast approaching. I have done the piece . Each time I read I find something more to edit. It has been an interesting week professionally,getting back to medicine as practised in the mission field.A week of work has given me a lot of food for thought. With age comes a sense of rest. The last week saw an onslaught of people coming in with all sorts of personal problems.I listened,I even wept with them but oddly enough  I had very little to say to them. Yesterday I had to take the night prayers for the nursing

Eating Khuri and remembering the stalwarts.

I remember eating Khuri when the Namsoong group used to visit our place during the Lepcha festival. Aneu Maili used to lead the team of young boys and girls playing their traditional music and singing beautifully melodius song. Aneu Maili used to be that quintiscential figure in white dress who used to have all the solution to our medical problems during our growing up years. She always treated us kids as special and we equally returned the favour. She has long passed away but I remembered her yesterday when my mother asked me if I would want Khuri for dinner. I said yes and I did not regret it. One mixes 250 gms of flour in water to make a watery mixture with one egg,two spoons of olive oil ,pinch of baking powder and salt to taste. For the filling one can use cottage cheese with celery,onion leaves and garlic leaves chopped with chilli powder,garlic paste and salt to taste.One can also use any other green leafy vegetables. Heat a non stick pan ,super hot and thinly let the f

Who have I on earth beside you!

I love spending time with my father,my mother and my brother. I even watched the premier league with my brother and mother today. I love to just lie down beside my parents and listen to them takes me back into times when I wasn't born ,remembering childhood stories,understanding my siblings and even my cousins better.This place could be my favourite place on earth ,next to the presence of the Lord. I love the church when they sing the old makes me realise how precious the presence of the lord is. Today the preaching in the  church by a young preacher was about 'Loving the Lord your God with all your heart,all your mind and all your soul'. As I sat in the church and participated in the service ,it made me realise how frial we human beings are and How great our God is. This week has been a challenging time of doctoring my own uncle,something I have not really done before.While he slipped in and out of situations which could have turned trick


I have not been blogging for a while because I have been caught up in doctoring an uncle of mine who needed some sorting out.It was a whole week of running around before he settled down. I have also gone headlong into my fiction writing course. I am done with the first week but now I need to gear myself for the second week. In the mean time I continue to marvel at my parents.I thank the lord everyday for them. Yesterday on the long drive back from Siliguri,I bought a kilogram of Avocado,all of rupees fifty but just the right consistancy for the tropical salad recipe I picked up from my mother's cook-book. There is nothing much to it really. Slice the avocado and the papaya into long strips. Take the leafs of watercress and arrange it in a plate with the avocado and the papaya. Take 10mls of fresh lemon juice and sprinkle it over the salad with a dash of olive oil and salt and pepper to taste. Voila you have a lovely tropical salad. If we want to make a meal of it ,we can

Just a thought.

You need to squeeze people into situation to really understand what they are made of. There are disasters and there are disasters. My folks made a strange observation the other day. The big disaster happened in Uttarakhand. They were shell-shocked to see the reaction and the initiatives of the people. For some reason,the media had some grotesque stories to tell of people who were trying to cash into the situation in every which ways....stories of people earning lakhs of rupees to ferry the victims and leaving them mid-way,stories of people cutting off the hands and ears of people with jewellery and carrying it in a bag,people over-charging the victims for every bit of essentials. My folks who never comment on people's character said,'The people there seem to be bad!' They have been through a disaster recently and they were commenting ,such a thing would never happen in our place. Many months after the episode dead bodies are still being unearthed.In Mangan,the loca

Resilance in the Lord!

The nursery school was an initiative of the community when the concept of nursery school was not there in my home town.My mother used to teach little children in the all of us went through the church school.It is where we learnt our first ABC's. Through the initiative and encouragement of the then CDPO and the district collecter who were both ladies and the general public,the school came into being. The school existed on a no profit basis and catered to the poorer section of the community but in it's hey days,everybody and their children went through it because there were no other nursery schools. With time big money was flushed into the town and many private schools sprouted up. The Ideal nursery went through tough times but I learnt resilence in prayer from the team. Then the earth-quake happened. The roof of the nursery school caved in. I had been a little worried for my mother's health for sometime. I was almost relieved.I remember telling my mothe

Tom Sawyer ?

I have been going into some foreign territories ever since I have come home. My lovely parents and my dear brother indulge me in my idiosyncracies. The other day I declared to my family that I wanted to do some cement plastering work. My parents showed me where the cement and all the paraphernalia connected with it were kept and my brother patiently showed me the proportion of sand  to the cement I should use with all the dynamics required. I made three portions of one and half cups of cement to the proportion of sand  and did a two hour job on what I had put my mind to. Every morning I sprinkle water on my handiwork.My father tells me it has to be done till the cement stops absorbing water ,after which I can go crazy with a brush and the colour of my choice. I might sound a bit like Tom Sawyer,but I enjoyed the process thoroughly. I have just finished the book of Ezra and have shifted to Nehemiah in the last few days,so it all makes sense. I was tired at the end of the day bu

Hridaya bheti charao prabhulai...

As I come home after a year away ,I find there is a lot things to be grateful to the Lord for. My parents for one seem to be well in the Lord. They seem to have coped so well to the long distance travel to and from Sydney. As I sit around in my room I hear the din of the choir from the church singing that beautiful hymn of Fanny Crosby ..'this is my story ..this is my enduring as it is endearing'. The next song is that beautiful nepali song I have heard it for ever in my growing up years...'Hridaya bheti charau prabhu lai hami sab sant gan mili......' Translated it means,'offer your hearts as an offering to the lord ,together oh  saints...!' I sit,I kneel,I pray.....I rejoice....I live!

Coming Home.

The flight back home was unusually tame and short. I decided to take the KLM home.Got such cheap tickets that I had to doubt till I had checked in as to whether there was a catch.However there was a detour through Amsterdam. The flight to Amsterdam was just forty minutes.Sandwitched between two gentleman ,one of whom had this terrible flu-I had a tough time trying to make sure that I don't get sneezed on for one final time in Europe. The sandwich they served was made of wholewheat but the container took the cake. Coloured earthy brown, it was full of information and the recipe for the dutch wholewheat bread. I ate my sandwitch and much to the amusement of my co-travellers folded the container neatly and put it into my bag.I thought the concept was fascinating. In the airport found my way to the lounge and looked into the shops to see what I could find. Picked a few tulip bulbs for my parents and the tiny clogs ..and headed to check in. The lounge was full of co-patriots.

The Charles Darwin I never knew.

The Great Malvern Priory in Worcester,it was to be. David Webster was preaching .The beautiful structure which Dr Richard Lewis ,a colleague   and my host so poetically calls , ‘the most beautiful building’, lofty,   aged and   elegant, stands high in the morning sun even as the bells toll makes me want to tilt my head and just listen ...the sound I sincerely believe, is heard in heaven because it calls sinners like myself to commune with the eternal God. The Lord speaks,He affirms and He upholds as usual in a simply profound message the missionary doctor from Africa shares.   When I was leaving Worcester in 2005,Richard and Anne had given me a copy of 'The shimmering heat'- a book by the good doctor on his life in Afr I got to see him in person and like all great men he was unassumingly   simple. On the other side of the road beyond the cathedral ,is a beautiful hillock with benches ,trees ,green grass and the cemeter

I like happy endings Keith!

Yes I like happy endings ! The night team specially walked up tp me to hand over a patient. A bad case of sepsis who was bringing out an altered vomitus,had a distended abdomen and was tachypnoiec and tachycardic. I struggled with him the whole day. At one point I thought I had lost him. I had put him up for escalation.His parameters were deceptively normal so the ITU refused to take him. His INR was elevated., At the end of the day he saw me picking up my bag and he asked me,'Are you going now?' I said not. The nearest of kin listed in his papers was a friend. At seven in the evening a man and a woman walked in. I asked Keith if I could talk to them about his situation. He gave me the permission. The man started off by saying what a lovely man Keith was and how he loved cars.He had known him but two years..The lady had known him a while longer.Apparently he never spoke about his past.His words to describe his past was 'happily divorced for the past 25 years&#

Foreshadow of the things to come...

David ,was a weak shadow of the redeemer who was to come. Shimei,from Saul's clan curses the mighty King and his men and pelts stones at them,calls him a murderer ,scoundrel.... Imagine the scenario in this day and age . Imagine the scenario in that day and age. When David's men intents to harm the man and calls him a dead dog,David rebukes his men. Brought to mind the stage before crucification when the soldiers come to arrest Christ. Simon Peter in a fit of anger cuts off the servant's ear and how Jesus rebukes Peter and makes the servant's ear whole again. David had committed a murder.David had been a scoundrel in some phase of his life,but he was a God-fearing man. Jesus on the other hand did not deserve the shackles,He was purity personified. He not only rebukes his disciple for intending harm on the servant He also restores his ear to wholeness. David was a God fearing king, Jesus was God himself. One did not act out of fear of God , and the 'Oth

The conference.

I have never been to a conference like the one at O2 yesterday where waves and waves of humanity were there representing various churches,families and individuals. To me it seemed that every seat was filled and this mass of humanity were swaying to the rythemn of the day. Even as Chris Tomlin sang his songs,I went into a time of prayer and in my mind's eye I was visualising the Lord Jesus casually sitting down on the steps 'just being' serenely even as the mass of humanity lifted his name up.As I was praying I was praying for Chris Tomlin and I was addressing him as this brother who is leading the worship,I remembered my unsaved part of the family,my saved part of the family,my friends who are struggling,my colleagues who are in various points of their lives,my seniors,my juniors,my facebook friends,my friends who have been a family for me in England,my colleagues at work here in Basildon ,the children I know,...I prayed for that mass of humanity gathered in the O2 arena

What do we do when calamities strike?

The Lord strikes David's household for the sin he commits against the poor man Uriah ,the Hittite. Nathan prophesies the death of his son born through Bethsheba. David goes into a fasting and praying mode pleading before the Lord so that the punishment may be revoked. The son dies. The king's household expects an ordinary response to an extraordinary situation like this .But David being who David is, does something extra-ordinary. When he hears that his prayers have gone unheeded by the Lord,he washes and then goes in to worship the Lord and then comes out ,breaks his fast and proceeds on to the task of living his life. Is his heart broken by the demise of his son?The answer is yes ,he talks about going to him. How does he respond to God for the calamity that has struck him?He goes and worships him. Before the demise does he sit back with his folded hands and wait for Lord to strike? No,he tries his level best to revoke the judgement in the way he kne

Do we qualify?

I was reading about David and Bethsheba this morning. Uriah the Hittite whose only qualification to be mentioned in the bible was the fact that he was Bethsheba's husband and what a mammoth proportion he takes of David's life because of the mistake that David makes. David,the seemingly redeemer of God's people,the powerful man,annointed of God,a man after God's own heart commits a crime which according to the world seems apparently innocent but God sees the heart and he disqualifies.For everyone's good it could have been swept under the carpet but in God's account it counts and it counts so much that he narrowly escapes losing his own life regardless of the fact that he is a source of so much blessing. God's justice is perfect. Only Jesus in us qualifies.The question is,is Jesus in us the decision maker in our lives? Do we qualify?

Finding the Father!

Today I travelled one hour ,twenty minutes to attend a church service at Tottenham court.The hillsong church which was being conducted in a theatre.Charles Neuman from Elpaso, Texas was supposed to be preaching in prelude to the 2013 London conference which is a week from now. I was not sure which exit I was to take from the underground-I just followed my gut and walked straight into the door of the theatre. The theatre was teeming.I just about made it into a seat.I thought that must have been the only seat empty.The worship was what hillsong worships are generally like.I just about managed to connect and then it was over. A young guy,I'll call him Amos,all of twenty-three years glowing with the glory of Christ,gave a testimony that took the cake and had most in the audience weeping. He was born to an unwed seventeen year old in the south-west of London.He was given up to the social services and changed five foster homes. He did not remember the first foster parents,he was to

It is a mystery!

I am a cold fish. It does not take much effort on my part to leave a place. I don't even feel sentimental about these things anymore. Yesterday evening I found myself tuning in to see what was happening in Northern Ireland. This morning during my morning prayer I felt such an ache in my heart. A few days after I came back from Ireland I tuned in to a vineyard service and there were two preachers preaching.Incidentally the first preacher had been a protestant from Northern Ireland according to whom his favourite portion of the church used to be the doxology where the closing prayer goes,'Amen ,amen ...aaaamen' before he became a believer and he preached through the Galatians,a fiery message on the Holy spirit and it's manifestations. The second preacher had his roots in the catholic faith in the southern Ireland and he was sharing how he used to regularly go to the church as a boy because he was so scared that he would boil in the fire of hell.That is how the prie

Adieu Ireland !

I travel back from Derry with companions travelling to their holiday homes in castlerock ,a beautiful beach where the river Foyle goes on to meet the Irish sea which further on becomes the Atlantic ocean.Rows and rows of beautiful ,tiny caravans and pretty houses.Stretches of green,green lawns where posh ladies with their shades and designer clothes hit the ball.But wait,this is Ireland ,I realise.All the ladies in between their strokes take time to wave at the passing train with sunny smiles.You find yourself waving as well. Belfast looks tame and quiet on the 13th. I have some time to while before I catch my flight and I have decided to spend it at the Titanic centre. The value cabs are the best bet.I pick up the direct phone and call a cab. The driver gives me a detailed instruction as to what I can do . The charge to the centre is nominal and he gives me a printed ticket and tells me to show it in the centre where I will get a concession.He also advises me as to what I should

How can these things be?

I am sitting down in the lounge in Londonderry waiting for the train to Belfast,reading through the morning papers. ...and I am weeping. Because as unworthy as I am ,today I realise the spirit of God was hovering over me . I was reading about the July 12th bon-fire and the incident of the statue of mother Mary being restored to the catholic father by the protestant man. I was weeping at the absoluteness of Jesus,His words that reach out to the crux of the matter and shows us something precious ,something to be held on to amidst the confusion that prevails. The bible says- 'I am the Lord your God and there shall be no God's over me.' That was the point where He touches the issue about idol worship and man as we are harp on and on about a man-made structure which might in no way be our idol. The shankill man who returned the statue to the catholic father,I believe, had a spirit of a peacemaker,for it was Jesus who said ,'Blessed are the peace-makers,they shall be

Revisiting my religion,not my faith.

Belfast was in news for the violence during the orange parade yesterday. While going on the bus tour I saw that mammoth bonfire effigy in the protestant part of town. That effigy was in news today. Amongst the things thrown in to be burnt which included the republican flags was an idol of mother Mary. The twelfth of July is celebrated by the Orange order which consider themselves to be the protecter of the protestant religion. The history of the orange order goes back to 1795. Now the July 12th procession is considered to be more of a traditional thing but it still manages to stir some hornet's nest. Yesterday ,in Belfast there were some restrictions put in for the procession to get into certain quarters and that caused quite a stir , the media reported it widely.However in Derry the procession went on peacefully . Coming back to the idol of Mary,a shankill(protestant) man apparently recovered the statue of the virgin Mary from a stacked bonfire and handed it over to a cat

Irish heart!

I walked the four miles to the walled city from my hotel.I enjoyed the amble.Just outside the walled city I met a lady on the bridge walking to her hair-dresssers.She started chatting with me and directing me to the city.The city was flodded with policeman setting the security into place for the orange parade.Between the lady whose hair-dresser was shut so her primary concern was making sure I got my directions right and the policeman who walked me to the square and even put in a suggestion as to what I could do ,I walked the walls. The walls are a window to the city of Derry,with churches within the wall. The St.Augustine's church,St Columbus' church,prebyterian church.. One can see people assembling for the march ,all prim and proper with some gear around their shoulder.The crowd is building up with the bands playing the irish tune. I watch the crowd from a distance and the crowd watches me. I stroll into the crafts village where people are beginning to stir. I peer in

Belfast ,Belfast!

It is difficult to catch an essence of a place in a day.Especially for a person like me .Few people I have had the privellage to meet in this place have impressed me with the depth of their knowledge and 'no hang up 'attitude that makes them a winner. The person on the open top bus had a mother who was born in Madhya pradesh and knew quite a bit about Sikkim as well.They seem to be well-versed about the history of the world in general.The cab driver gave me a lecture about Gandhi and a commentary on the Orange festival. One thing you should not perhaps do is try and make bookings after hours for anything. I called up the open bus service around seven in the evening.The man who answered the phone very sweetly said,'we will pick you up from your place at nine-thirty in the morning allright',-sounded almost as patronising as an older brother.In the morning they seemed oblivious of the arrangement.Nevertheless ,true to their perhaps drunken word,they sent a pick u

Derry -London Derry

Reached Londonderry,known as the city of culture.Train journey was staid and suddenly started picking up from castke-rock.This city is well known for the G-8 summit which was held here a couple of weeks ago. I booked into the Beech-Hill country house which seemed reasonably priced and looked like a quiet place.As soon as I reached Derry I started receiving an update about who all had stayed there.There was Kennedy,Clinton and Cameroon in the recent G-8 summit.The best part was it took me sometime to remember who Cameroon was.I take it to being tired after the journey. The hotel apparently used to be owned by a judge and had through the generation been converted into a hotel.The rooms were plush,the bathrooms plusher,the halls were filled with what a posh old money country house would be filled with. Tomorrow,being the 12th of July there would be a procession and the bands would be out on the street playing ...I look forward to Derry celebrating the Orange. I can't get over the

The first stroddle through Belfast.

For a city which is part of great Britain,Belfast on a superficial wander seems to be filled with hospitals and medical facilities and churches almost at every five minutes distance. I call the manager of the open top bus to pick me up the next day and he says he will and I can pay him on the spot tomorrow. I find Belfast a liitle strange and oddly different ,although I have hardly seen the place as yet. Hospital and churches? Is it a reflection of the recent history? I saw the documentary on Londonderry by the BBC ,Belfast yesterday.I found myself crying and deeply touched by the hardship and the spirit of the people and a sense of triumph when Londonderry was declared the cultural capital of Britain. There is so much one can absorb in this part of the land. I look forward to exploring the city ,especially the murial arts from the difficult times,a form of  expression which might have made the burden of the hospitals and the church lighter. Four days is much too short indeed.

Remembering a saint....without a name or a trace but just a childhood memory.

Some memories are so strongly imprinted in your mind that somehow it never leaves you. I must have been around four years old. The road above our compound in Mangan was being metalled. There were people and more people working on it with the GREF overseeing the supervision since it falls in the border road area. There was this man on the heavy wheels who used to drive the vehicle to plain the tar. He was a Christian and he loved the lord. He would put us children on the vehicle and too our utter joy allow us to sit on the passenger seat even as he drove too and fro . Whilst at this ,he would sing this beautiful Christian song with a beautiful voice and tears in his eyes which remained engraved in my memory forever. Maile char disha ma here, aakash dharte samma here , Timee jast mukti data , Maile katai paina paina, maile char disha ma here. Phukalie bandhan saara aphno ragat le dhoyera, maile katai.... Translated it means-'I have looked in all four directions, I ha

Just a thought on a flight.

Looking out of the window of the flight approaching Belfast one sees an endless stretch of sea.I look out fascinated at the body of water without a horizon with specks of island with proper settlement in place.A ship is on sail,a speck from the sky,hardly moving . The clouds below,the sea and the sky merges into each other ,difficult to discern ....somethings will remain hazy depending on where you are looking at things from.Yes ,the sky,the sea and the clouds are so different.and yet from this angle they look like almost one ,the borders merging into each other. I look from the top at the sea and the immenseness of it scares me,I am a stranger to it and yet perchance something were to happen to us ,the chances of us surving would be higher in that scary looking alien sea than the land we are so familiar and comfortable with.Look at the clouds from the top,it looks fluffy and soft and seemingly comfortable .You feel you could just lie on it and float away and yet it is just an illus

Fiction writing -an art! Are you sure?

I am a lazy person intellectually.I try as far as I can to save my brain .Unlike my siblings who love competing with each other with puzzles,games...etc I keep myself steered out from such hard work.I use my brain sparingly ,hopefully,where it is needed. When I declared it to my oldest sister once ,she immediately called out to her husband ,'Colin ,did you hear that?' I am not sure it is such a good idea though because science does say that the brain needs to be used to keep it sharp. I like to restfully flow and I firmly believe serenpidity surprises a rested brain. With some amount of apprehension and a push from a friend I decided to enrol into the Oxford distance learning on fiction writing. It starts in a month's time but as per the syllabus they have prescribed three books I should have with me for the course,I bought two and am yet to lay my hands on the third. Now that I am reading ,'How fiction works ',by James Wood,I am beginning to realise that fic

'Brick-lane'-on a sunday!

We decided to make it to the petticoat lane and walk further up to the bricklane one sunday.East-end it was to be. My sister in law had wanted to see the street art and had been asking me about it. We walked through the petticoat lane,miles and miles long array of junk,could have been Sarojani market in Delhi. As we asked for direction ,one soul directed us to 'a traffic light through which thousands would be walking towards a direction '. I wondered where we were headed to? Soon we saw people and more people walking towards a direction as well as jam-packed and sitting on the road-side in rows and rows,just eating out of paper plates. A novel sight in London. We kept walking,sighted a few street graffiti's which my sister in law captured with her lenses for her younger daughter who is the arty type . It was a sharp turn to the left and into a hall,which was a strangely surprising food court which was selling food from every part of the world.