A Man, a plan, a (ear) canal, India

On my third day in Delhi an odd but harmless man “professionally” cleaned my ears despite my best protests.

“Your ears are very dirty, sir,” he began. “Let me have a quick look.” I didn’t doubt his assessment, though in my partial shock from his very specific and direct aural interests I didn’t take him very seriously. Within a split-second he placed a tuft of cotton on a metal q-tip and plunged it into my ear canal.

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