Call in CSI, I need to dust for prints...

Isn't technology marvellous? Back in March, the Municipal Corporation of Delhi started tracking the attendance records of it's 127, 094 employees biometrically. When they turned up for work, they had to sign in with their biometric cards or give a thumbprint impression. What's remarkable is that in the last eight months, 22,853 of these employees failed to turn up for work once. Do you think it's possible these 23, 000 employees, who have paper records only, never really existed? The paper says, and I quote "there seems to be a scam as the MCD is spending 20 million rupees (more than a quarter of a million pounds) every year on the salaries of ghost employees". I'm not sure the phrase "seems to be " really sums up the situation fully...

The Mayor of Delhi has declared the introduction of the biometric cards a grand success. Not only has he found he employs 23,000 people fewer than he thought he did, those who do actually exist have become so much better at timekeeping. They are more punctual than they've ever been. Not only can they turn up in time now, they don't seem to need to work overtime either...

If you're happy and you know it clap your hands

But be careful if you're in India. It might be misinterpreted...

This afternoon, on the way to collect the kids from school, I saw something new...

When our car stops at red lights, I am used to people coming up to it, trying to attract my attention. Sometimes it's kids selling magazines; sometimes it's women, in dirty clothes and holding a baby partly clothed in rags; sometimes it's urchin children. They knock on the car window in the hope that I will pity them, wind down the window and give them some money. The urchin children usually repeat the mantra, "No Mama, No Papa, No Chapatti" (My friend Kehi tells me the correct reply to this is "No Country Club Membership"). But today the person trying to attract my attention didn't fit into any of these categories.

While waiting for the lights to change on Lodhi Road, a lady wearing a long woolen shawl walked elegantly down between the rows of cars. Her face and clothes were clean, she was wearing lipstick and her hair had been brushed. Between the fingers of her left hand she had notes folded lengthways, 10 rupees, 20 rupees, 50 rupees. Alongside every car she clapped her hands once. After she had passed our car, I asked Raju if she was a beggar. Yes Ma'am, he says, she's a beggar. But, I say to Raju, she doesn't look like a beggar, and she doesn't act like one. The beggars knock on the car window and, because we're white (therefore wealthy, and possibly a pushover), they wait until they are sure we won't give any money. Raju waits a moment. Ma'am, he says, she's not a beggar. And loading as much innuendo into his voice as he could muster he added, Ma'am, I think you know what she is.

Oh, I say, just a little surprised. I check my watch, it is 3pm. Isn't it early, I say, for the ladies of the night to be out? Raju replies with a laugh, Ma'am, she isn't a lady. *

The lights change and he drives on, still chuckling to himself. After a minute or so he looks in the rear view mirror, catching my eye. Ma'am, he says, she was fresh. I take this to mean not all the clapping ladies of Lodhi Road are as pretty, and wholesome looking, as this girl.

* However, I would put money on her being a woman. I've seen hijras (the Indian third gender, neither man nor woman) and this lady was incredibly feminine compared to them.

Lana's Bananas

I feel like I've fallen into Cafe World...

Today I've been attached to the stove, just like the little cartoon me in my Facebook Cafe, Lana's Bananas. While the little Lana cooked Triple Berry Cheesecake and Spitroast Chicken, the real Lana (a great deal bigger but still little, to be honest), cooked up a huge pot of basic meat sauce. I knew I was on to a good thing when the kids got home from school and rather than "School. Moan. Boring. Can I have some money?", Thalia's first words were "Mmm, smells like Bolognese". Not quite right, because I'd decided the first batch of basic sauce was going to be Chili Con Carne. Tonight, Matthew, I'm going to be... The freezer is now stocked with plastic containers, ready to be turned into Bolognese sauce or Shepherd's Pie relatively easily. And there was enough Chili made with the other portion of basic sauce to pop another family meal in the freezer as well. It's a little like trying to keep enough food available to serve in Cafe World. I'm not sure this qualifies as life imitating art, though...

Got a light?

Having dinner by candlelight is old hat. To be truly cutting edge, you have to cook it by candlelight! Okay, so it's not really a candle, rather our emergency light. But the effect is about the same...

We had a power outage just after 5pm. These outages are less frequent than they were in the peak of summer, and usually don't last more than five or so minutes. The longest ones are about an hour. But 6pm came and went, and the power still hadn't returned. I knew dinner, chicken and vegetable pie with a filo pastry topping, would need to cook for at least 45 minutes, so I couldn't risk leaving it much later. I'd found one packet of filo pastry in the supermarket, something I'd not seen since Tesco, July 2008, so nothing was going to get in the way of me using it. Not even not being able to see. So I took the emergency light into the kitchen so I could distinguish between my fingers and the vegetables. Luckily the hob and oven are gas, otherwise the lack of light wouldn't be my only problem! Power came back just as dinner was ready.