Perhaps you've read my reference to the conversation with my mother? The one with Papaji was more like this:
Me: I'm going to India.
Complete silence. Total, absolute silence. So silent, I thought I had stopped his heartbeat with this one sentence.
What follows is a re-creation of our most recent conversation. Warning: subjects in the conversation are larger than they appear.
Me: How's everything? good?
Papaji: Me, everything good. You, everything okay? You need money?
Me: No, I don't, and yes, everything's okay. Tell me, have you decided if you're coming to Vancouver or if you want me to come see you for Easter? Only I can't come for that long, y'know.
Papaji: I was think about, better if no come, no you and no me. Now time to save the money.
Me: Okay, of course, no problem. So you can come in the summer then, for your birthday! I'll get your ticket.
Papaji: You know, you need money*, now is time to save the money I think.
(*as in, one needs money to survive/get by in life, a recurring thought expressed by Papji)
Me: Yes, I know.
Papaji: Now is a good time to be saving the money. If you want, you can come here in July for my birthday.
Me: I don't think that will work as well as you coming to Vancouver. I'll have a job, and I don't think I can say, after 4 months of working, "Can I have a vacation?"
Papaji: Okay. okay. We see. Maybe you come here, maybe I'm there. But you right, you need a job, now is a good time for saving the money.
Me: But you're okay, right? Everything's okay?
Papaji: I no gonna be okay until I hear you from Vancouver again.
Me: Papa, please, don't worry.
Papaji: You no can tell me no worry. I'm you father, I worry.
Me: But everything's fine.
What he doesn't know won't give him sleepless nights, right?
The thing is, everything really is fine.
Yes, I did get hit by a guy on a motorcycle today, but he just knocked me forward a bit as he hit me on my right side, and then he looked back at me like "What are you a half-wit, walking by the far edge of the road?"
I gave him the same look back, meaning, "What are you a half-wit? Passing me on the right where there's only 3 feet of room between me and the beggars sitting on the road, instead of the left where there is nothing but room?"
I was sore, physically, and a little shaken up because the half-wit on wheels did not honk or in any way indicate that he was right behind me, I had no idea until I'd been hit that there was a vehicle near me. People, children and the black cow, they were all in my line of vision, but this guy was not, because I have yet to grow eyes on the back of my head, the same type of 6th sense eyes that my mother used throughout my childhood.
This is extremely unusual because, most of the time, people are honking and beeping from ten miles away. I can see them, with no other traffic between us they'll start honking - the noise pollution is ridiculous, even in a small place like Pushkar.
After a few near misses, including one where the motorcycle supporting a family of 4* stopped one foot in front of me, finally, Bang and ouchie. (*okay one of them was an infant, then two women and the driver)
But really, everything is fine.
1 comment:
Omigod. I too, no gonna be okay until I hear you from Vancouver again.
Don't forget to look up before you cross the street.
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