the regularness of irregularity

In this small, dust-covered town of Manipur, which fortunately shares the same climate as southern California, power comes on erratically a couple hours a day. And the locals contend that it is the corrupt, semi-autonomous state government's fault, who sells the electricity to their neighboring states, swelling up their personal coffers, and bullying the citizens into submission by ostentatiously driving around in really big military vehicles and flashing their guns. Probably true, but I don't have the time to investigate the facts. Though I have seen the big wheels and big guns. I'm too busy training medics by candle-light. Despite the regularity of having irregular power, the residents still find it alarming when the power goes out abruptly. I am sitting in my guesthouse and I was typing away and enjoying using the wireless modem on AC mode when the lights flickered out and a roar of human distraught/comedy wailed through town, and in through my window, to my amusement. The noise resembled something like a cross between a wail made by a crowd of eager futbol fans whose team just missed a goal and a moan coming from a group of boys who just witnessed a girl's dress fly up in the wind. Odd. That after so many years of consistent disruption in their lives, that they still react. And now there is a silence that cuts through this town, which is quickly replaced by generators working hard to provide a steady white noise for me to fall gently asleep to....Good night.