Shashikiran Mullur

bangalore | malnad | travel | journeys in india | the state of the union

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The Truths About Corona Are Fake And That Is The Truth

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During our visit before the last week’s to the plantation, visitors wore masks when they came in — only, they’d pulled them down the nose, covering only the mouth. After a while, once they’d settled, they’d ask to take them off. Some of them asserted that the surgical masks on our faces were useless. Many visitors had imitations of the N94 on, which are hard on the wearers because, besides limiting the breathing, they punish the back of the head, and around the ears, and roundabout the nose. They are polite people there in Sakleshpur, so we went ahead and mingled with them, not protesting, pinning our hopes on our own masks before barefaced men.

We cannot blame these netizens of hilly Malnad, overdosed as they are on oxygen. They cannot survive with air supply stopped by a face covering. As regards us, the Bangaloreans, the face cover — which, we’d not realized until now — is a good...

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Tuol Sleng, Duch, and Hell on Earth

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It was not a long walk from my hotel at the waterfront to Tuol Sleng; the foul smell from the sewers accompanied me the entire length, riding atop the acrid air of Phnom Penh.

I recognised the buildings when they came up; I’d even anticipated the barbed wire, having read about it. Tuol Sleng was built to serve as a school no different in appearance that those that missionaries have established across Asia. This one has four buildings, each with two stories on top of a ground floor, and two generous quadrangles for play and for assembly, and quite airy classrooms.

New villas fronted the school; apartments blocks flanked it on the sides. On every floor, homes out there were level with the classrooms. I saw through the classroom windows clothes hung to dry, children at play, a housewife washing food in the balcony, and other sundries of family. A villa on the corner in front belongs to...

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