Chinese Dust Storms in Delhi

There’s dust-storm tonight. It’s not very fancy though. Just a few blobs of dust swinging around; perhaps doing the Tango or Salsa or whatever dance it is that dust particles do.

There are two kids on a bicycle, and one of them is perfecting the art of persuasion while the other perfects the art of argument.

“Chinese phones are pretty damn good, good features awesome price,” says Persuasion Jr .

“No way! They last less than a year, once it goes then what?” says Argument Jr, convinced that after this statement he now has an upper hand.

“Like you can bloody afford anything else anyway?” Persuasion Jr retorts back.

The argument pretty much closes there. I walk on, wondering whether dust on ice-cream makes it taste nuttier, or am I just a victim of a temporary lapse of normal imagination.

Argument Jr. doesn’t give up yet though.

“Right! Turn right you idiot!” Persuasion Jr screams as the bicycle takes the wrong turn.

The last thing I hear as the bicycle goes out of earshot at a very high speed is;

“What the fuck? I told you to go left”

I finish Argument Jr’s reply in my head

“Never mind! There are many ways to go right in life!”

I decide against eating ice-cream while strolling in dust storms. I rather have my ice-cream nuttier because of actual nuts then just salsa-dancing dust.

I wonder though, is Chinese dust cheaper and does it have economies of scale like everything else Chinese?