As Magan and I were discussing the state of global warming and the need for humans to get in touch with their wild side over our decaf , war free , naturally processed, ethiopian coffee and low carb , Vietnamese sandwich which our generous Latin American cook had made for us ,we saw a news flash about this Amazonian tribe .
Oh!, such beautiful houses, they had thatched roofs that offered no protection from whether . The men hunted for their own food with these beautiful arched bows and these straight pointed at the end , arrows . They had fire and food. Each night men told stories of how their bums were injured by hyenas' horns and women would fight over how difficult it was to cook food without proper stoves and ventilation. Every now and then kids were eaten up by tigers who were more than happy to roam around their settlements . Mothers were too busy cursing the man who discovered fire and wondered who had decided that cooked food was the in thing to take notice that two of her children were missing and with the blue paint meant for children all of them looked the same any ways .
Magan and I decided that we should go and have a look at them and their anarcho-utopian lifestyle untouched by this consumero-fascist society.
Three months have passed since these nice people had assimilated us into there group . Every night the boys take Magan to have a look around the jungle after which she seems exhausted , while I am rolled over a fire every night . I think it is some sort of a ritual for new people. After this rolling ritual the chief of the tribe touches me and says something that sounds like 'still rare'. There was a chopper over our settlement this morning. Magan and I have been cleaning up the place . We expect the Mr. and Mrs. Spencer to arrive next month.


This post is part of chasing frames . Other posts on similar lines by Supreet and Kaa