Well … welcome back … just at the time, when it started to make sense. When more and more pieces of the puzzle felt together. When the creativity got one boost after the other. When the idea became imprint.
Just at that time, when the self started to feel the inner peace again.
Just at that time, when the mind started to settle down for silence again.
Just at that time, …
… I got – like so often – distracted. Distracted by a new episode of my life: 'A teacher at Paradise School' or 'Desperate Housewives in India: Project Possible International School'. But that's another story. So, well I am finally back …
… and every 'back' starts with a clean and tidy up of my computer and my papers. What was produced during my time of blog abstinence? New bits and pieces? New keywords? New imprints? New impressions? New moments of life? …
… New ideas? …
AND ANYWAY WHAT ARE WE AT RIGHT NOW
On the road to Varanassi. Via Mumbai. With a dog. Brilliant. I can't wait for those upcoming experience. Haha. Well can tell you now - they were alright. Mumbai was kind of full on 24 hour with dahl baht and shower. Do get Shantarams understanding of the full heartedness of their people. Do get their rigorousness either. Yeah Mumbai was interesting and enough. I've got my impression. I've got my moments. I've got my stories.
Well … and than … started a 36 hour journey to Varanassi. I dreamt of it. Not of the train journey tho. Of Varanasi. Can tell you. It's a special place. I really really enjoyed my stay there over the roofs of Old Varanassi. The smells and the colours of the Ghats at the Ganga. The vibrant atmosphere. The feeling. The sensing. The living.
… but hey, we haven't even entered the train to Varanassi yet. So let's do it … and let's start with an … oh come on guys have a guess … what can happen if you book a train ticket in India? … mhhh …. it's not that hard … had to happen at one stage … ahhh … nice one … you've got it … so let's start with an … OVER BOOKING … to my advance. Upgraded to second class for 'new rich Indians' with white bunk sheets, working air con and dahl baht choice. Well that were for sure the advantages. I do prefer third class. Yes. It's more crowed. It's more dirty. It's more sticky. It's more loud. It's more … simple, easy, non-judgmental.
Okay, I do have to commit, that my appearance could be something to sniff at. Sweat was literally running all over me. The dog. Kind of hippisch dressed. Infection in the face. So yeah, the little girl next to me got pulled away by her mum to bring as much space in between us as possible. That says a lot. I smiled. Namaste to all and so on. Indians are in general interested … and at one stage they WILL TALK to you. So the typical stuff of appreciation to travel, guest in a foreign country, representation and co was running in turbo speed through my head. Still smiling. My appearance seriously rejected. I saw it in all their faces. The mother. The two daughters. Next to me. The husband. The grandfather. The man. Opposite. The other grandfather. His sons daughter. The two baby girls. Left side. The teacher. His two students. Behind me. I saw it in their faces. I felt it in the air. Rejection. Judgment. Sweet world I think. Still smiling. Oh yeah … Pablo was the first. Followed by my infection. Both obviously for them connected. Assumption. Judgment. Still smiling. Not caring. Just recognising. New upper class Indians. Bling Bling. BLING.
Was asking myself at that stage, if I really was so happy for my upgrade. True, one more new experience. Happy about that for sure. But like I said. I prefer the third class. Thats fun. Uncomplicated. Open. Real.
Yeah at one stage one of them, can't remember who was the most nosey one, they started interrogating me. That's alright. Happens every time. … mindbubbling … I do think the term 'interrogating' just fits here perfectly. Situation. People. Attitude. They asked like all other Indians too … apart from the Madurai air port officers … forgot about that one … end of mindbubbling … and … for sure … the question about my profession didn't had to wait too long to be asked … and with my answer I became a well respected person, who needed a tea and has to be food shared with and has to be invited to their homes and and and. … I still shake my head in total disbelieve about this obvious change. It discussed me. I become a one because of my profession. TEACHER. Seven stupid letters. One fucking word and I became a different person. It says NOTHING about myself. It doesn't tell them if I am a good person or not. It doesn't tell them if I am a good teacher or not. It tells them nothing. But seven stupid letters and one fucking word brought me their respect. I didn't like the change. I really didn't.
Well. I played the game. I smiled. We talked. They were nice people, you know. Friendly. Proud of what they achieved. Happy with what they have. More happier to show it - sorry, but its true. They were loving people. They were caring people. In their own little micro cosmoses. Like every time. That makes it so sad you know. They. We. All. Are. One and the same. If there wouldn't be such an urgent passion for judgements in this human race.
Well, we talked. We laughed. We shared tea and food. They looked after Pablo. I played and read with their kids. They told me their stories. I can't remember any of their stories. Well. What I do remember about 36 hours from Mumbai to Varanassi is:
Pablo being a champion on the train toilet. Even telling me when he had to do his pissness. … haha … what a word juggle … haha … Pablo being a champion in general. The whole journey. A pleasure to have him with me. Great travel dog. So pleased. So happy.
The full on blown and pumped up ballon cow. Fuck guys that looked seriously scary … and funny … a huge big bang ballon with four tiny legs sticking up in the air. ...oh … This poor dead little thing filled up with methane gases … shortly before her personal own big bang.
Watching with a secured AK 47 in my bag (seriously the neck of that ugly nasty thing was right in my lower spine) and his owner 'I am a legend' in Hindi with english sub title on the last hours of the journey. You know. I was in obvious danger. I needed protection. You know. (attention joke)
A very hectic unpleasant cigarette-less arrival in the middle of the night in Varanassi and the inability to communicating my urge for a cigarette shop. I do can get grumpy. Upalalalalalalala ...
and for sure those funny happy lovely fellows
