23rd Dec 09 The Mental Convict So there I was, next to Azaad maidan, with Supro. We were experimenting on my cam. It was a sunny evening, and I was telling her of the aperture value, when suddenly, out of nowhere comes this man! He had short cropped hair – looked like he got an electrical shock. (Maybe he did land up in a rehab after all, right Supri?) Anyway. Here I was, taking the pic, and “Are you a professional photographer?” Supri thought he was here to ask the price of the cam, which was his next question. “No, actually, I’m just trying to learn my new cam.” I said, confused. “Oh! It must be expensive. How much is it?” he asked. “I’m a dentist you see! I practiced it in Panjim, but now I’m doing cosmetic surgery, in Nainital. I’m studying in Panchgani also. Dentistry is like an art you see,” he said, flapping his hand over an invisible canvas that might’ve been someone’s teeth. Supri imagined him painting teeth with a flat brush. He continued, “Do you study here? Are you a lawyer