As I wait for my colleagues to show up so we can head off to Bas Congo for 4 days – departure time was meant to be almost two hours ago, but I am calm, putting in practice my new Zen resolutions of yesterday – I find myself reading more news from India.
An odd quirk of this quirky country is that the national newspapers publish pictures of dead people whom the police cannot identify. So here you are, having your breakfast, flipping through the pages of the morning paper, and suddenly you are staring at a picture of an individual whose face is missing and whose skull is showing, and another with a tortured, bloody face and swollen eyeballs that look like they are about to explode out of the page and into your tea. Yummy.
And here was I thinking that pictures of missing children on your milk carton first thing in the morning was a bit gruesome!
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