Goddess (Nilla)

The name came back after a few minutes. Names of streets, locales, restaurants always seemed a little preposterous, put-ons and layovers, someone's bright idea we were asked to take seriously and carry away with us on somebody or others' say-so. Rarely did such have any true, deeper meaning. Why would you bother with them? Get on with what you were doing whatever that may be. Nevertheless, after a few minutes Nilla came back more or less of her own accord. One assumed female, by no means confidently. In foreign cultures you were lost with gender forms, among much else. We made Nilla a goddess, one of the three hundred million in the Hindu pantheon was it? Hard to go wrong. Average teh and wait on the meal, ten minutes the waiter said, closer fifteen. Never mind, even with the pain in the foot not properly elevated. Near half four, high time the cheaper thosais were available. Down in Singapore they did the same: during the lunch hour, 11 - 3, the thosais and chapattis were off—customers steered toward the pricier heavy glutinous processed rice with your choice of veg. Without breakfast and gone mid-afternoon, the rawa masala thosai had been fixed upon since noon. It was yummy at Nilla, the potato insert mixed with crunchy green peppers and three thick sambal. Go for it Boss!... First time their teh halia sampled. Not so crash hot: thin, little ginger evident and lukewarm. What to do?... Fatties over-represented piling in. Not an attractive display when eating with the fingers meant presenting the platter-tongue. Ah! the elegance of the French and English with their shiny cutlery — an art installation of sorts. Little wonder the Indians often avoided direct sight-lines with foreigners when they were hoeing in. Girls, guys, mums and dads with big bums, bellies and thighs; staggering, rocky gaits. By reports, pre-Donald they would have fitted in well in the States. Some of these young lads on the floor would positively favour the big-size gals: not a sign of any kind of distaste or indifference and quite the contrary. As in Africa, the sign of health/wealth encoded somehow affirmatively. Made one think these girls could really turn it on, never mind flab and folds. Shake it baby! Then their mothers and sisters factoring. These boys were all for it; thin anorexics were marked low. Great deal of easy sweet pleasantry from the waiters bending at their tables. Horrid alum. chairs, easy wiping and moving the diners. Like the Malays, there was no long sitting-on after a meal holding conversation. Conversation took place elsewhere; there was little time or need for it; much of it seemed in passing and casual. Uncomfortable. Prone to sliding, the chairs required upright posture. Pain. Interesting Oz nomadic miners item on ABC online earlier. Finally, after many years of fruitless prospecting across the Outback wastes, this couple struck big time big nugget. Shiny rock worth big bucks enabled them to buy a house, car, travel properly, gift their friends. Some time later, some few years, regret arrived that the pair had not endowed their children better. It had been a conscious decision from fear of spoiling. Interesting. Understandable both sides of the equation. Bushies done it hard all their lives; a terrible thing to transmit shallowness and complacency; ruin a being. Yet, then again. Infection almost certainly in the foot. That was what was causing the recent blisters when one thought one was out of the woods; odour too. Recalling the old guys out on the street, the one in particular with the swollen red feet sleeping on shop ledges against the shutters, through the day getting some comfort from the slope on little used stairs. The Rudy Valentino hair with the wave over forehead threatening to dump on the rider any sec. Wow! When was that last seen? Rockers and bikers in over-sized studded leather jackets at the top end of Mason Street Newport, near the station and the two pubs either side. Lottsa their compatriot barbers highly skilled, confident and assured like any elsewhere wielding cut-throats and sharp scissors. They would all have their particular faves of course who knew just how they liked it. Sometimes the lad with that style would blow a snort of air by nostrils and over forehead to feel it riffle the plume. Rarely did the foreign workers carry the elaborate dyes, the russet and honey highlights like the Bollywood lad at Muthu. A regular looker like him happily paid. Horrid furniture, fittings and finishing, all entirely overcome, overthrown, cast into insignificance by the people here and not only the staff;  though grounded so firmly and securely of course back in their homeland, the waiters were inevitably the front-runners. The diaspora here, young ones in particular, receive the unconscious echoes and elaborations of familiar patterning served by these distant cousins. Fluro lights on white wall tiles, gas bottle two metres from the table by the appom stand, bulky aircon unit in the front against the window, exposed wiring and racket in the cavern-like dual chambers, all overthrown. White shirt floor manager swanning a moment ago through the blue caps and polos with a platter for a front table. Everywhere warm, free glimpses among the lads, between themselves and the clientele, many regulars no doubt. Back in the day in for a late supper draped with his fox fur after a performance, Rudy Nureyev would have found a way with the young Valentino in the back squat toilets—Ruskis we used to call them in Titoist Yugoslavia.

NB. Nilla was third consort of Lord Vishnu