It has been sometime since I have made a new blog. I had spent some time working on a short tale about a mountain demon and His unquenchable thirst for sex. Should be good I will start posting it 500 words at a time shortly.
One more thing has kept me from posting anything and that was some travel! I just got off a roughly three day long train ride.I had no assigned seat so we all (and there were many of us) just all shoved ourselves into the crowded car. Every sort of person was their! The Baba with his long beard, young students, and many young children. There were old Hindu women with no teeth gumming tobacco, and my favorite, The Sikhs!
I ended up making some good friends on the ride by giving my seat up. First to a large business man and then to an old women.her teeth were gone her hair was dyed an orange color and her sarieh was black, how could I not give her my seat?
The Sikhs were kind to me even though we couldn’t speak. One thing that caught my eye was the fact that they all had their sacramental daggers. Each one carried at their side a small dagger with a curved blade. Some of the men had two knifes, some had three and some even had a sword or two, or a battle axe, or a spear.
By the end of the train ride I was joking in sign language about drinking and smoking with them. I felt like I was being told to drink milk by Mr.T. One conversation went something like this: “do you like to drink? Do you like to smoke? well if you have a beard and I catch you smoking ganja I will beat you with the handle of my mace!”
The guy had one eye, he had a large belly, and I’d pity the fool who fucks with him. He was a kind man.
The train was lovely. By the end of the night, due to my good karma I was sharing a bunk with a very miserly companion. Luckily he was my friend so he helped me, but only me and no one else. No ones luggage could sit with us, and no other person. This worked out well for me. I’m far too kind to every say no to a friend but this man had a sense not to make them! I have said in the past how I find the train conducive to dreams, but that was in the sleeper class compartments. With no reservation the train ride is conducive to meditation, yoga in very awkward positions and pushing your borders on personal space. When you want to sit on the dirty floor after some hours and some guys ass is in your face all you can do is not mind, And that can be a bit of an exorcise at times.
I felt like part of some cattle being shipped here or their. If it weren’t for the fact that everyone wanted to be on the train I could compare it to some Nazi trip to a death camp, but spirits were high. people were ready to fight to the death to get on the train. Sometimes a loud argument would break out over being let on, about hurrying up because the train was leaving the station with or without you totally on the thing, with part of your family still on the platform, or your goods stuck behind some people who just couldn’t move.
Go to the bathroom, lose your seat. Get some food, lose your seat. Get someone else water, make a friend for the train ride! The train stops for a few moments at a number of stations and the chaimen and samosa dealers descend. People are hungry, and the salesmen must do well. I was surprised by a number of goods dealers that would walk up and down the train.
One man stopped to give a presentation on his incredible books. each one filled with important “common knowledge” on history, proper nutrition,and other things like this. Another man sold chain necklaces, gold in color and from his long, loud demonstration the things were practically “indestructible”.
I managed to get on the train and stay on the train with a good mood for the whole ride. between Rishikesh and Haridware I was stolen from and It put me in a down mood for some sporadic random moments. It was a rather polite and kind thievery that took place at that station. While I sat waiting for my next train, a Nepalese character sat next to me. we chated for a few minutes and ended up going to get some food. It was a pretty simple scam when it was time to pay he conveniently left his wallet with his friend.
I knew once he said this that there was no friend and that I could either pay for his meal, turn him in, or maybe pay for his meal and beat the shit out of him, or maybe just give him a good punch in the face. I called him a fucking jerk and he smiled, he knew I would be paying for the meal. I had wondered if I should have offered him a soda after the meal was over, after I found out he was a “jerk”. It was either I should offer him a drink or beat the shit out of him in the front of the restaurant.
He chose the restaurant a little place fashioned after western fast food restaurants the place was called “dosa plaza” The food tasted American, but then again I ordered something that seemed more American.
you should know what a dosa is. the dosa is a crepe like dish, it’s filled with whatever, potatoes,and whatever, onions, and you dip it in some coconut chutney and some hot shit called sombre.
I like dosa, but back to the theif! That was it I just let him leave I paid for the meal and Realy I felt like nothing happened, he even offered me the leftovers. I assumed he would have wanted them since, I mean, he did steal that food! Later some lady wanted the leftovers and had a good story about why she needed some food. It was at that moment that some negative energy poured out, just a little. She asked at the wrong moment.
shortly after-words some man was being friendly and this soon turned into an opportunity for the man to ask for money.
Finally, I made it into my station to wait on the platform for my train. Some babas sat on the platform under the sky and between the Himalayan mountains. They were happy to see me. I was happy to see them. I thought I could sit somewhere quietly with some kind quiet people, but then they started asking for money! I reached down and pretended to draw up one of the tridents the babas kept in a small pile. With this trident I pretended to kill that baba where he stood. His friend just said “oh”, I walked away to sit ALONE.
Everyone wanted money that day. The same with every day but more than usual that black day. Even the baba who I spent the day with in rishikesh wanted money. I had spent the day in hopes that this man who used the title “yogaraj” might do some yoga. He talked to me about a five day trek into the mountains and I was ready. when the time came, It seemed that he was more concerned with smoking Ganja and having me purchase him tea than anything. obviously this was some sort of failure. when I told him I was leaving he asked for some Help
“help baba? fifty rupees? something?”
He had told me earlier that all is baba, and baba is God” so I told him i’d help some other form of him, he should relax even though I wasn’t giving “him” any cash.
All my money will go to “baba” and all of the cash is already owned by Baba
That day was cursed, the first thing that happened that day, after I got up off the ground, after I put away my blanket; I was bitten by a black dog.
It happened when I was leaving for my morning bath. He bit me once more when I returned to the random shack we had been hanging out in.
The Baba, his kind friend -who wanted to know if I had sex, and myself all spent the night on this little cabin property. It had no gate in the fence, when we showed up the door was locked even though nothing valuable or worth stealing sat inside. …That day was cursed….