By the lobby-staircase of the Hotel Taj Residency, on the floor, on the carpet, a foreign man in blue-jeans sat cross-legged. Four Indians in formal wear sat in deep chairs round him with power-point on their laptops, and took instruction from him. The scene reminded me of sketches of the teaching scene in recurrent issues of Chandamama during my childhood: the guru sat on a mound by a tree and the disciples lower before him. A brilliant yellow halo shone behind the guru's piled coiled pyramidical hair. Here now I watched a new-style gurukula.
Then, I went up to the first floor to a class of ninety-nine business-persons to take training from a pumped-up American on growing a business.
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