Report to colleagues and the boss on all the fun I had on my recent trip in New Delhi :

Having braved imnumerable tribulations, including a case of massive food poisoning and an extremely foul-tempered government official, I am happy to report that I have returned from my Journey to the West (ie. India) alive and with nothing less than an original copy of the [ ... ] sutra of India, also known as [ law textbook ] authored by the learned Dr [ X ].

Dr [ X ] also happens to be the case officer of the ongoing [ case involving the company ]. I had bought a copy of the book for my meeting with Dr [ X ] in the hope of getting him to autograph it. Regrettably, Dr [ X ] was not in the mood to indulge my attempt at sincere flattery that day, and preferred to engage Rakesh in intellectual banter in (mostly) Hindi instead.

A copy of Dr [ X ]’s book (unmolested by his signature) now lies on my desk. Please feel free to borrow the book should you be in need of some intellectual stimulation. (No, it is not printed on paper which is good enough to use as toilet paper).

I had travelled to India last week to attend a public hearing in which my company was involved.  On the day of the public hearing, I received an urgent call from our lawyers.

"The director’s father has been fired.  The hearing is cancelled."

Stunned silence from me at the other end of the phone.

"Yes, you heard me correctly.  The hearing is cancelled because the director’s father has been fired."

I thought that, perhaps it was a cultural practice to grieve over the loss of a job in India, no differently from the way that we grieve when a family member dies.  But I wasn’t feeling amused at that time, having travelled over 2000 kilometres, nearly having died from the Delhi Belly, and still suffering from the effects of the Delhi Belly somewhat.

I told the lawyer that I would call him back on the hotel phone as I could not hear him clearly on my mobile.

After hearing our lawyer speak for a while, my Indian colleague who was with me explained, "the meeting is cancelled because the director’s father has expired".

On my most recent and fourth Journey to the West (ie. New Delhi, India), I finally succumbed to the infamous "Delhi Belly" (the term fondly given to diarrhea contracted from consuming food or water from India).

Which was quite a disappointment (and also very painful).  I had expected myself to be impervious to bullets and food poisoning, the previous three trips to India having been without issue.

Anyway, early Monday morning a week ago started off with six visits to the toilet.  Then, while stuck in an hour-long traffic congestion on the way to the office, I felt increasingly nauseous.  Finally, as my two hour presentation progressed, I felt increasingly weaker and my sentences became garbled.  At the end of the presentation, I could only muster enough strength to crawl onto the office couch and sleep while my colleagues kindly arranged to send me to the company doctor.

I thought at first that I might need to go to the hospital, or that I might need evacuation to Singapore.  I wasn’t sure if I would survive the former.

I slept for 13 straight hours that night, after bravely attending another afternoon meeting in my semi-conscious state.

Amazingly, two days and 16 billion CFUs (8 capsules x 2 billion colony forming units every 6 hours) of probiotics later, I made a full recovery.

I will exercise a little more paranoia during mealtimes on my next journey to the west.