The Other Side of the Dump

For some strange, unfathomable reason I have pissed off the natives of Sivadump. I have been advised not to step out of the house if I don't want to be torn to bits by a lynch mob or find myself at the receiving end of a hired assasin's blade. Some of my loving relatives who happen to be in the fireworks industry have demanded that I remove the "Beauty and the Dump" post. I will not do that as I stand by every word I typed, but I do believe that discretion is the better part of valor so I guess now is as good a time as any to mention some of the redeeming features of Sivadump. (No amount of force can induce me to refer to it by its given name, for me it will always be da dump).

Lets see... The local cuisine is yummy, particularly the parathas and chicken majira (masters) which is infinitely superior to the over - rated fare at Virudhunagar. We have our own version of fine dining at Bell's with their delectable Chocolate Exotica (Sivadump's only bona fide claim to fame) . There are some beautiful temples and truly wonderful folks who live alongside the peacocks. The women deserve a special mention as they hold their own in a typically male - dominated, chauvinistic society. Also, it is not too far far from civilization as my native place, Virudhunagar is just a stone's throw away. The powerful printing industry is also brag worthy. (For those who feel that I typed that only because my husband is a printer, excuse me for sticking my tongue out at you. Nyah!) Finally, when my husband and I have retired from the rat race (or sooner if I am lucky) and are huddled up next to a warm fire, enjoying a delicate repast of fondue in an adorable Swiss chalet I may miss Sivadump, realise that I have actually loved it all along and wish I am back. (Hah! Not bloody likely) .