Hello, dear readers! Your uncle Rangarajan this side of the digital divide. Normally I wouldn’t hesitate to offer you my jasmine-scented greetings but what to do? The omnipotent Balaji knows I am helpless. Inflation is crushing not only the middle-class but even jasmine flowers, it seems. Just today, during my evening stopover at the Maalai mandir near RK Puram, I discovered to my horror that jasmine flower prices have shot up like your aunty Vaijanthi’s BP during Arnab’s Super duper Primetime. Jasmine is the new onion, dear readers! So if you don’t mind, please make do with drumstick-scented greetings. In any case, the horror that I am going to describe to you today, believe you me only the pungent drumstick scent can do justice to it.