My Indian Woody Allen

Every day on my walk to work I would take note of the Indian man that looked like Woody Allen. He would always be at his post,  elegantly leaning against the tree opposite his tender coconut stand. Watching his tender coconut peddling competitors snatch up customers with their diversified offerings of coconut water, tea and biscuits just a few meters further down 80 Foot Road. (This picture was taken after my Indian Woody Allen had already liquidated his inventory.)

He only had two outfits, one a variation of the other: a lungi, short-sleeved dress shirt,  turban...and specks like Woody Allen's. Now short sleeved dress shirts are a terrible concept, and a lungi is like a short sarong for men (another terrible concept) but this man could pull it off wearing these items--in mismatched patterns no less. Did I mention he was barely 5 feet tall and looked to be pushing 80?  I know that he only had two outfits because one day he took his house down...

Yes, deconstructed his house. It was only a frame of bamboo with a blue tarp. But he took his house down. With the blue tarp cast to the side of his plot I searched for what must be the trappings of a simply elegant life. The bare spot revealed a neatly folded suit of clothes perched on top of his second pair of sandals (no longer here, he took them), and four empty liquor bottles.  

 

I should have taken a picture of him before he moved. I always wanted to but figured I should learn to ask in Kannada or Hindi to be polite. But now that I'm looking at a picture of Woody Allen,  the glasses are the only common feature between the two of them and I feel badly for convincing my roommates that he was the spitting image of Woody Allen. My Indian Woody Allen is actually much better looking, though I can't remember exactly how or why. My roommates, and you, will have trouble getting the image of Woody Allen out of your head, so I'm afraid I've done my Indian Woody Allen a disservice.  

I hope business is better elsewhere...

Sash enjoying a tender coconut. I'm pretending to, but am really waiting to get a cold diet coke at the provision store across the street. If only I liked coconut milk, then perhaps MIWD would still own a tender coconut stand on 80 Foot Rd!