India must love me.

Despite not being very well off, and something of a tight bastard, I can't help but spend stupid amounts of money here.

This is more or less to be expected - the guilt that I rave about almost non-stop makes it very difficult for me to haggle - I really have no right to make a fuss about fifty rupees (around .70 cents or fifty British pounds, at the current rate - hah!). And, bloody hell, these guys know how to sell. I can't even keep track of the amount of things I have bought that I have no need for whatsoever.

Apparently the ultimate haggler's tool is to walk out of the shop, declaring that you don't want the item in question. When I do that though, it is because I really don't want it - if I had wanted it, I would have bought it at whatever stupidly inflated price that had been mentioned in the first place.

So this is why I have a pair of fingerless leather gloves (admittedly, deeply cool despite their inutility) and three elaborately embroidered cushions covers with elephants on them, to mention but a few. The others will remain unmentioned, as they will change ownership in the guise of thoughtful presents as soon as I get back to Berlin.

Excessive guilt + too polite to tell someone to feck off = generosity.