CLEAN-UP THE TATTOOS FROM YOUR MIND
Pic.: Ruma Chatterjee I had a good friend, by the name Paul, when I was in college, in Mangalore. He lived quite far from the college, in an interior village. Paul loved the typical tailor-made polyester shirts and terry-wool pants and would wear them impeccably ironed. Some of his young cousins, who lived in Bandra, here in Bombay , would come down to the village during summer. They wore their crumpled tees and torn, stone-washed denims... and, yes, for days, they wore the same stuff! Now, our poor Paul had some tough time at home... His elderly grandma would give him an earful, everyday, as he spent a good deal of time ironing out his clothes: “Look at these Bombay kids... They have plenty of money; but they don’t show-off like you do... So humble and simple they are, that they are able to survive, for days, on those torn and crumpled clothes. Learn from them... You need your expensive clothes, and you need them crisply ironed... Don’t you?” The next day, in ...