Taking a Deeper Look

*Thoughts related to the last three posts, and my experiences last night/early morning.

Looking back as to why I was held responsible for covering the fee of 7000 Indian Rupees to the police can be easily traced back to what seems to be an openly corrupt state. While I nor my soon to be attackers were in no way harming anyone by being on the streets at midnight, the police saw an often practiced opportunity to, through the use of force, extract some paper. After attaining human connection with one of the officers beyond who he becomes wearing his tan attire, I was told to go home, and up the road I managed to hitch a ride the full 4kms.

Whether or not this officer had the foresight, these mid-twenties boys could not afford to pay the fee to release the impounded scooter; they could not ask their families assumedly for financial reasons, fear, and probably both; they did not want to "steal" the money as humans are moral creatures; the easiest step they saw was to convince themselves I was the demon who caused these problems (I'm sure there is already an evil god in Hinduism named Jayden). They acted simply as they had been taught: it is moral to use force to achieve an end. They were prepared to beat me with stones, and threaten the family that was hosting me. If I were to continually resist, they were capable of going through all the motions eventually reaching murder (and at a much faster rate in their intoxicated state). If sadism can be quantified, I wouldn't label them as extremists, as I noticed many times morality and reason would cross their minds, to the point even through poor communication, they would begin to walk away but shortly after a cognitive dissonance would arise, and the crazed look of desperation took over their brutalized psyches.

I could have easily fled Kochi, but that thought instantly brings up the threatened family I mistakenly dragged into the problem. I went to an atm, and paid the fine.

"That India is a dangerous country" you say, "I'm so glad I live in country x, this would never happen in MY country." Following a longer set of steps, what happens if you don't pay your taxes?

A Few More Important Details

The man who lives here, and who is trying to calm the assailants down, is going to the hospital in 24 hours to pass a kidney stone, has two sons in their young teens, and doesn't have the energy at 5:30am to shoo away the ruffians. I will have to pay Baksheesh to these gents, for they will only cause more issues. Right now they are discussing the bribe.

Part 3

The family came and knocked on my door, and after 5 hesitant minutes decided to answer. They have told me to stay in the room tomorrow for the full day, and would go to the police station and sort this out.

I still went out to find my cord.

Fists of Fury and his sidekick are still outside.

I have my cord,

Updated, LIVE!

They are at my door now knocking away. This might cost me some money. I still want my cord, and will have to leave Fort Kochi very very soon. It's 5am. How long can I outlast them?

The 5 D's of Dodgeball, and Why You Shouldn't Visit India Without Them

After finishing lonely Canelloni in Fort Kochi's Art Cafe, I took off to the beach to have an ice cream and a coconut. A random opportunity approached to go for a spin on a random gent's scooter. He owns a clothing shop in the tourist section of Fort Kochi, but apparently didn't own the scooter. We went out, I purchased some off-sale beers on a promise we were great friends, and he would of course return the deed Stopping off at many large groups that after a couple minutes of banter became J's "best friends". After rolling about 10 cigarettes to give our large group of friends, it was time to head back to the homestay. 5 minutes too late. The police arrived with many questions, and failed to recognize my driver's license as a valid ID in India. This is important for the police to believe, as they can now confiscate the scooter, following some made up law (all laws are made up) that those types of scooters are not allowed after a certain time, or something as equally ridiculous.

A bit more communication leads to one of the men in a sandy brown suit telling me to go home, so I started to walk what was going to be a 4km run/jog/hide back to my homestay. A man on a 150cc sport bike drives past me slowly, stopping 50m ahead to take a better look. I asked for a lift, and we raced through the empty streets, managing to stay ahead of bright jeep lights. Safe and sound at the homestay, lucky me.

Unfortunately for me, J and I left on his scooter after the beach to drop off some of my valuables at the homestay, and his memory still served him after he had claimed many times it was failing him because he drank so much. I popped out of my room still high on adrenaline to cool down, and heard some loud voices walking down the driveway to mi casa. I tried to calm them down so we could discuss what had happened, and found that they wanted me to come to the police station with them to get back the scooter. After I had left, the police drove their scooter to the station. I was in no mood to leave with the loose cannons who both stumblingly threw a few punches my way, only hitting my chest. His English wasn't great, and my Hindi/Malayalam isn't that great either, so his next step after changing from "friends" to "fists of fury" was to pick up a rather large rock, at which point I decided to sprint up the stairs to my room, dropping my headphone cord on the way.

I've been in here for a couple of hours, and the yelling subsided perhaps 20 minutes ago.

I really want to get my cord.

Thought Disruption

Never again will I visit Australia. I have begun typing this post 4 or 5 times in the past week, erasing the many tangents of anger that arise for you, the reader's sake. I would like to focus on one idea that made me think twice about being curious, that made me fear looking into the eyes of the dead passers-by; a collective idea that asks participation of its new victim, an attack that wears down the psyche to the point of adopting the idea, or fleeing the country. Call it what you want, but I prefer cannibalism. Walking alone is dangerous unless, well, I assume it may be easier if one blends into the mundane dress, loud Australian accents can be heard gossiping about you even through the noise made from headphones. Here is one of my favorites, let me set the scene:

A damsel in distress with her significant other, this is me, sporting newly purchased trainers while running a few errands after a visit to the doctor in downtown Melbourne. We were approaching a couple of sporty looking fellows who looked as though they liked to mix up visits to the gym with weights and juice that works more effectively than a protein-enhanced beverage, and the exact words that came out of one of their mouths, while he was looking down, after we intersected was: "Fuck this guy". After a short while I found he wasn't going to do the fucking, nor was his mate Ray Roidsy. Perhaps he was suggesting to the damsel a fun exercise she could perform with me, which I would prefer to believe but the tone suggested nothing of the sort. What I am suggesting is after viewing my attire to try and come up with an answer as to why I was with such a magnificent creature, a conclusion was reached that my bright red shoes had lured her. I felt a deep-seated battle in this gent; I was disproving his theory that "big strong man walk, eat, make baby, go shopping, watch movie with beautiful woman". "Could there be more to a person than his physical strength?" popped up into his thoughts, but he managed to strangle the thought before it could create a lasting synapse.

I'm having blank thoughts after 30 minutes of deciding what a follow-up to this could be, so I will leave it at that.

I'm back in India.