Sunday, 9 April 2017

Clock watching

I'm in Salar Jung Museum and it's coming up for the hour. Everyone is heading towards the musical clock. There's an auditorium set up. Some people have snacks - they've been here a while. Three o'clock arrives. There's maybe 300 people watching. Waiting. I can't bear the excitement... WHAT'S GOING TO HAPPEN? This is gonna be epic.

The clock played one bar of music then did three bongs.

I'm not saying that that's a metaphor for my time in Hyderabad, but it had been perhaps a little too hyped. All that talk of it being the spiciest food in India, it was inevitable that I'd find it beige.

Hyderabad wasn't without its good points - the city does a nice line in boulders; the Persian influence means it looks different to the other Metrocities; Qutb Shahi was incredible; I had a proper tasty breakfast dosa - they just didn't entirely outweigh the heat, the smell or the failed hype.

For the record, after the bongs the other 299 people watching the clock went nuts. There was cheering and whooping. It was just me being an underwhelmed, been-there-done-that curmudgeon.
These guys better not go to Eastgates; SavaCentre will see a rush on clean underwear when Cat's Cradle Pussywillow III tips to the o'clock. Is SavaCentre still there? I hope so, although it's largely irrelevant to this post. And fade to grey.

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