Dost, I think Your Sundial is Broken

It would appear that time in India is measured the same way Figaro's temperature has to be taken by the vet - by sticking a thermometer in his poor feline bottom. Because I'll tell you if there's one thing I'm hyper-wacked about, it's time. (one thing, oh that's good hey? I'll attach a list some other time)

It runs in my genetic makeup. My father has paid Pearson International Airport goodness knows how much in parking fees because he likes to be early. One time, my red-eye flight was delayed, and I called home to tell my parents the news just before boarding the plane. It was 4:30 a.m Toronto time, my flight was scheduled to arrive at 6:45 a.m. My father answered the phone saying "You just caught us, we get ready to go out." My parents lived 15 minutes from the airport. "Just now I was thinking we go. So maybe another hour we wait then."

"My flight is 4 and a half hours, Dad. I'm still on the ground in Vancouver, understand?"

"Yes, yes, understand, what I no understand? You know I prefer go early." Plus, he adds, what's there to do around the house? Uhm, 3 hours of parking time Papaji equals major Ka-ching.

So I have an ability to overstress about time, to get stressed out when I'm late. I've also noticed I have an ability to judge people harshly (I know, you're all soooooo surprised) when they're consistently late.

In fact, my blow up with Mincho was completely unrelated to what was happening in real time. Mincho runs on Spanish time, which is pretty much measured by the same method as they measure time in India, and we were 'joking' (he was, I wasn't, I was already in cloud cuckoo land - thank you Mordecai Richler for that one) about wanting the same spot on the mat when I suddenly shouted out in Italian "Time! Time! Time! When you show up for class on time, you can have the better spot!" His reaction: "That's a different issue entirely."

What could I say? "Yes, well, so there. Na na na na nah. What's another issue? What were we talking about?"

So I have an issue with time. I like people who show up on time and treat my time with respect. I mean don't people know time is rupees? In the past, I noticed that the more of my time someone wasted by letting me wait, the less time I would give them. Go ahead, you can call me a Time Facist. I've been called worse things in English, Italian and Hindi. My hyperness has dimished some what, thank God. (You can email your votes in if you think I'm deluding myself)

Several times Swamiji has reminded people to show up for class "Western time please, not Indian time." And when students showed up late, he would say "Please 5 minutes before coming. The train at station this time say or you run for the train, maybe miss train."

Personally, I think using 'catching a train' as an example of Time Management in India is an extremely poor choice.

Yesterday was my original departure date. Now I feel like I don't know why I've decided to take this extra time. Yesterday was my biggest meltdown, bigger than thinking about my aunt, because I was too exhausted to not cry, too exhausted to fight for balance and be present, to be here now.

When we're all sitting around a campfire back home toasting marshmellows, I'd like to put in a special request to whoever is strumming on the guitar. Hmmm, no, I like this ending better:

This is Manou coming to you all the way from 98.7 QRAJ - The Q!- Rajasthani radio, Lotus Lake, Pushkaaaar, with a reminder to stay cool- and for those foreigners far from home, get a higher SPF sunblock. This little number goes rolling out by special request to Fifiji. Feef, where ever you are, keep on keeping on. He cues the music and we hear:

Time is on my side, yes it is
Time is on my side, yes it is

Hah, Mujhe atcha legah. (Yes, I like it.)

Yes time, time, time is on my side, yes it is