It's been more than four years now I'm back in India. Yet, the reverse culture shock still hits me, often without warning. The following incident happened a couple of years back, but occasionally comes back to haunt me, especially when I get other reverse shocks. It was the middle of monsoons. Being completely bored at staying indoors all day, I took my bike one evening and went on a ride. After watching the sun set from the hills, I re-entered the concrete jungle and parked at a bookstore. As I was lugging the bike on to its stand, a kid approached me. He had a rag and a bucket in his hands. Stereotypical vehicle-washer. " Saab ..." "No." (vigorous head shaking) " Sirf do rupai saab ..." "Sorry" (commiserating look. I'm a pro at this now) " Khana saab ..." "Nah." As I walked away from this everyday incident, I reflected and wondered if I'd heard right. Two rupeees? The kid must be either incredibly desperate

The other day, KP and I took an afternoon off from work and went to the Cantonment to buy some trousers for him. KP was scheduled to attend some marriages, and he felt that his current set of four trousers wouldn't do the occasions justice. Since I anyways had to buy replacements for my existing pair of held-in-place-by-Fevicol shoes, I promptly agreed to the outing. Plus, I like going to M G Road. It's a vibrant place and frequented by shoppers from such diverse cultures that I never get bored people-watching there. KP is quite a particular shopper. He is very meticulous to detail, and always seems to know the right questions to ask of the salesmen. At the trouser store, he asked about the fiber content of the trouser-material. The salesman pointed to the information printed on the cloth, which mentioned that it was made of a certain percentage of Merino wool. On reading this, KP turned at me and gave a knowing smile. He drew a blank. He then said, "Merino Wool!?" an