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I have to survive until August in India with no money so offer to help a woman out with her new hostel in the mountains for rent and food. She agrees. First job is to buy a metal panel to bar the door at night. I head off to town and instead decide to buy a gun and twelve bullets with the money. It's tense in the gun-buying shack as we're 100 rupees short and I've expressed doubts that the bullets are any good. An angry man squeezes a bullet between his fingers until it fires off into the ceiling as I find a 100 rupee coin. The situation calms. I leave with the gun thinking, great, only 11 bullets left. Back at the hostel there's a wedding celebration going on. No one seems to know who is getting married, or where the stereo equipment blasting out distorted sounds came from. I decide to take some pictures of the party, but the viewfinder has gone wrong - it shows ghosts and strange locations instead of reality. When I press the shutter it takes a picture that it has decided is the most interesting image in the area instead. The camera seems to have a filthy mind.

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