The Dark Side, part 2

Use the force.

Something I forgot to mention, because, well, I was unnerved enough yesterday with what happened with the kid, I left out the fact that there were 2 recipients of my 'You'll wish you were dead before I'm done with you' glare yesterday.

Perhaps that sounds like a harsh name for "the look", but let me just repeat, it was inspired by my mother, and I think once she even verbalised the glare with that expression so, the name kind of stuck, y'know? Like gum in your hair or on your favourite cashmere sweater, it stuck.

Two death glares in one day. That's kind of a big detail to leave out, huh?

Oops. To be fair, it took me awhile to put that last post together, now that I learned how to save these pieces and edit them when I could return to the internet with my journal. My dear, tear-stained journal. (Okay, it's really chai stained. Go ahead, I can hear you all already from over here: liar, liar pants on fire)

I'm thinking I will never be invited over for dinner or out for coffee again. (Coffee? Real coffee? Not Nescafe? NOT CHAI? Seriously I could just weep to show you my gratitude but then again, I just remembered, you won't be inviting me. Who wants to 'chill out', as they say, with a person who can give "the look"? Sometimes, I had to admit, that looked popped out when I was simply perturbed. Disturbing? Definitely.)

Sigh.

Second Death Stare Prize Winner is the man I now refer to as "Mr. Show Me the Rupees" - after he felt pressed to show me his armpit problem. 'member him?

On my way back to the hotel after the kid swore at me, and before I came to an uneasy chocolated peace about it all, I was walking back to my room, saw Annu and her husband and said "Namaste."

Annu tried to draw my attention to a keychain, and since I'm now wary of her- polite, but wary- I said, "Yes, that's called a keychain," and kept on walking, momentarily saved by another staff member coming round the corner.

I hadn't gone more than 10 feet when her husband ran after me saying "Excuse me, excuse me."

"Yes?"

"Me tomorrow Ajmer going. 200 rupees need." So the price had changed, but my heart had not melted one iota. In fact, having come from the little kid minutes before to this, my heart felt like it was made of sulphuric acid. I felt like a bomb in one of those bad but good made-for-TV-movies, about to be detonated.

I fixed him with my stare and said, "I'm sorry."

He repeated again "Tomorrow, Ajmer going, 200 rupees need," but thankfully did not attempt to lift his shirt, or I would have committed a crime for sure.

I said "I'M SORRY-" in a way that, I'm sure you can tell by reading it I didn't really mean.

Like those annoying people who apologise for upsetting you by saying "I'm sorry you're choosing to get upset," instead of saying "I'm sorry I behaved like a complete jerk and subsequently, by my ignorant actions, caused you to feel such pain. Please accept my humble apologies, I will endeavour to be a better human being, having learned from this experience."

He said "okay, okay." Fortunately, he also backed away slowly.

No doubt, by that point, I was resembling a mangey, possibly rabid dog, like the ones I try to avoid on my early morning walk to yoga class.

Later still, as I decided to go back out, Annu cornered me, showing me the keychain again and pointing to me saying "How much?"

I said "I don't know? How much?" Not entirely clueing in because I was at my wits end. Admittedly, that is not a long journey for me to make but still, I got there rather quickly yesterday.

"No, you, how much pay?"

"For the key chain?" I asked slowly, and she nodded. "Nothing. I don't want it. I don't need it."

No need to add Comprendez? My tone was enough. I did not employ the look. Only the tone. The tone can some times do the trick all on it's own. Learned and mastered from the same source, I've used the death tone more often. (No need to wonder why my relationship history has been what it's been then, right? Change is the only constant: I am not my thoughts. I am not those thoughts. I am not that look. I am not that tone.)

"Okay, okay," she says.

Later, much later, today in fact, I was swapping stories with an Australian woman who showed up in Yoga class right after I blogged the comment about 'I'm Canadian, not Australian'. She tells me, she's mostly met Canadian women travelling around on their own. I have to laugh.

The other stuff she mentions, about coming back to Pushkar to specifically study Yoga with Swamiji, I also appreciated. Because sure enough, I was, that night before she showed up, thinking "Why have I done this? I'm all alone here. I could have gone on to Darjeeling with Rich. What am I doing?"

Serendipity, some might say. I prefer to think of it as God having a sense of humour, and an ability to grace our lives in ways I can't even begin to imagine.

Also, I prefer to think that rather than needing another's approval, it's just my overwhelming self-doubt that I keep tripping on. Sigh. Stupid thoughts here, stupid thoughts there. Stupid thoughts everywhere. I am not my stupid thoughts.

As we were walking out of my Hotel, on our way to meditation, Annu points at the Australian woman and asks, "Massage?"

"No!" we both said, in stereo.

You can't step in the same Ganges twice. You can't kill two birds with the same massage. Though I think some people have proved, and I count myself among them, you can be the same fool twice.

Use the force, feel the force.

Never abuse your power.