Another day and another horrible act of violence by Muslim fundamentalists. It was Delhi on Diwali and not it is Bombay. Their consistency is amazing and our inability to oppose them is amazing as well. It seems like nothing can be done. There is no hope. Just let them bomb you, blow you away without reason and without a hitch.

Terrorism is fast becoming almost a natural disaster. It is almost expected.

I travel via the path trains every morning and I know it is a matter of when not if.

It must be an evil, un just world where Ken Lay gets to just die for so cheap. The guy has fun for most of his life being horribly vile and almost helping create new genres of corruption. Then at a good age of 65 just gets to die so simply. It pays to be corrupt.

Amidst the crazy hustle of the city there always happen things that surprise you. Here is such a tale.

We did some shopping at the Oakley store on Prince Street in downtown New York. On a hot and muggy day, we loitered around the area that also has an Apple store and the other usual stores of an upwardly mobile neighborhood: J.Crew, Banana Republic and so on.

Tired and hot we saw this little coffe shop called Pomegranate Cafe and Gallery. Amidst paintings, this is a Bodum like shop that sells fruit juices, teas and coffees. We opted for some cool watermelon juice and a rather tasty toasted bagel with cream cheese. We rested our tired souls for a bit and then left the store around 1.00 pm.

It was only late in the evening around 6.00 pm that we realized that a small Oakley shopping bag and contained 2 brand new Oakley sunglasses and other trinkets that Puja had purchased from other stores and street vendors. We were shocked of course. It was stuff over four hundred dollars. We found the cafe's strange website that had a phone number that no one picked. Next morning we took wagers and I of course was the optimistic and promised a sad Puja that the bag would be just waiting for us. We reached around noon on Sunday and there was this attendant who was not the same one we saw yesterday and I was quite deflated. So I inquired about the bag and after a bit of a hassle of listing all the contents, which gave hope by the way, the attendant declared that he had the bag we were talking about and he had gone to some lengths to preserve it for me. I was happily surprised. I never ever expected seeing the shopping bag again.

I cannot understand what would prompt a person to not keep such a bag for themselves. They would be able to sell the sunglasses on any street corner in less than 10 minutes and pocket the cash which I know everyone is running short on. I don't get honesty. Its a good thing.

We went to a friend of Puja's last night. They live in the suburbs about an hours drive from our place in a huge, very well designed house with a gorgeous backyard. They have 3 kids. Everytime we meet someone like this the difference between the kind of life we lead and the kind of life they lead becomes evident and stares blankly at us. Puja and I love the beautiful homes, the space and perks such as a basement home theatre with a 110 inch screen but we don't feel we can deal with the hour and a half commute every day each way or the fact that we will be so far away from everything that the city has to offer. Restaurants, shows, and the fireworks!