Love In The Capital of Denguestan

There’s no such thing as too much Vicks Vaporub.

It’s great on planes. There are so many people on planes and there’s no telling who is exhaling what mutation of the common cold virus with every breath they take and every move they make.

I believe that an application of Vicks, shoved indelicately up the nasal passage, blocks those pesky viruses.

There’s Vicks, Pudin Hara, Odomos, pre- and pro-biotic pills to protect us from a shivering fever in the middle of Hot-as-Hades summer in Delhi. But then there’s the unexpected.

One evening in the hotel bar, my pal Krishna—an evergreen Scaramouche—had made impressive gains on a young, Euro-lovely, Annabjorg. Let’s just say that the fourth Appletini was consummated in the room upstairs.

Later that night, Krishna said that Annabjorg began shivering wildly—due to no action of his. The hotel summoned the ambulance. At the hospital, Annabjorg gleaned that her spiritual discovery of India had included dengue.

Krishna spent the entire day between meetings shivering… from fear that everyone was lying about dengue not being contagious.

At one point, he asked me if I had any Vicks Vaporub handy.


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