Every so often, I’ll post something starry-eyed and hopeful on this blog, only to discover that—surprise, surprise!—I am actually completely wrong. The little "discoveries" usually come from reading the morning paper. Like, for instance:
- Indian Idol kept me from work. Hilarious! Until someone gets trampled..
- Oh, look at all of the development going on in that park in Noida! ... Or maybe not so much!.
- Here I am talking about the brand new IPL, and wouldn’t you know: scandal, scandal, scandal!
- A funny story about rickshaw drivers. Which, according to the newspaper, is more like "a sordid story of a battle for survival"..
Journalism in India is a little funny, because the conventions are completely different from American papers. Little things, which don't really lessen journalistic integrity, still come across as a bit new to a Yankee reader. For instance, when someone is accused of a crime, the paper says they allegedly did such-and-such; allegedly being written in (to my eye) very accusatory italics. Sunday papers contain marriage classifieds, broken down by caste or clan, which my Indian coworkers assure me are absolutely hilarious. There is a whole section of the citywide Sunday paper also devoted to spirituality. Then, I swear this morning over breakfast I browsed right over a picture of dead babies.
I would quit reading the newspaper entirely, but I never get tired of seeing this lady in the headlines. OK, maybe I have a juvenile sense of humor, but when the news is dour you get your kicks where you can.
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