Running on empty

Bangalore seems to be grinding to a halt. It was announced yesterday that from August we can expect power cuts of up to seven hours a day. In the countryside it will be well into double figures. The monsoon had not really landed properly this year and so the dwindling water supplies plus the daily increasing demand in the city mean that we all have to be careful of the resources we have.

Bangalore is home to over eight million people now (and most of those seem to be on the roads at virtually any time of the day). A consequence of the pending power cuts is that individuals and companies are stocking up on diesel for their generators. When I called in at two petrol stations on Airport Road this morning, both had run dry of diesel. I then headed to Old Madras Road and joined a queue at the Venkateshwara Service Station (people do occasionally queue in India but only at petrol stations and urinals in my experience). I waited for about ten minutes and then filled the tank: 36 litres for about eighteen quid - eat your heart out Gordon Brown. That should last me for about a fortnight but I'm going to be careful, seeing as Bangalore is feeling the pinch, to avoid unnecessary journies. That doesn't include my newly arranged chauffer driven jaunts to the pubs on a Friday night which, after a week spent immersing myself in various software projects, are very necessary. I've never been one for drinking and driving and whilst you can get probably get away with it in India by flashing enough money at the right time, that's one habit I'm certainly not going to get into. Having said that, the Bangalore authorities are getting tougher on drink-driving, even though we passed a chap last week who was as drunk as a Lord and gesticulating wildly from his car window. I think he even had the cheek to yell some abuse at a traffic policeman who just waved him on through.

But today has also seen Bangalore hit by bomb blasts in different parts of the city. The information is sketchy at present but I understand that there have been seven blasts and one fatality. That will almost certainly escalate to more, and the news channels will be full of earnest reporters talking earnestly to other earnest reporters and asking "why, oh why, oh why? as the same footage of blood stained concrete, discarded sandals and the odd body is replayed on an endless loop behind them. Cynical, me?

As the old saying goes, there are four types of people:

The Optimist: There is always someone worse off than me.
The Pessimist: I'm always worse off than someone.
The Cynic: There's always someone.
The German: Worse off than myself, someone always there is.

And to round things off, my wife bought a box of eggs, stuck it on the back seat of the car, forgot about it and then sat on it. Scrambled eggs on the upholstery. It's been one of those days.

Originally published on Blogger on 25th July 2008.