A touch of mutual back-scratching may have crept in, in my B2B with Kini. Readers who don’t get put off by the first few lines of Kini’s latest – Manna from Heaven – would get to read,in his transit through mountainous Turkey, a stranger-than-fiction experience.
This B2B has, among other things, enabled me to discover a Kini that is different from the bloke I knew and moved with in London – soft-spoken, a little edgy, scholarly spectacled, in blue velvet corduroy, and always dressed for Carnaby St. People who know me think I give credit where it is due, but often grudgingly.
I am not immune to a touch of flattery. But kini and I are not given to flattering each other. We both know we are not the easiest guys to get along with. And, I am sure Kini would agree with me, we were not the best of friends while we moved together in mid-sixties.
We didn't know nor cared about each other's background. Our interests were different. So were our social circles. We were at work, together but on different beats. Which, I guess, accounts for a certain diversity in the narrative content of our B2B. My end of this blog nostalgia recounts episodes and events with no coherance or chronology. His blog runs like a TV serial, as exciting as Lonely Planet for a travel addict. Both of us were then more immature, unwise, and outlandish – I, in my dreams, and Kini, in experience.