Completion

Thursday, November 11th

Today for the last time I accompanied Premal to Sanskrit class. I have been attending every day, and I am truly and utterly in love with this eighty nine year old man.  I have learned from a long standing student that many years ago, Swami G had traveled to Germany where he had offered a lecture series on metaphysics. These days, however he is too old and is disinclined to travel.  She herself has known him for over twenty years and visits him on an annual basis.  He is a humble man, but one who is widely respected for his intellect and his standing in the community.   Today a group of people have come to visit him. The two women and a man, sit uncomfortably amongst our group. They must partake in our daily ritual of biscuits and chai, before he will entertain their petition.  The women speak in turns, whilst the man sits uncomfortably, fiddling with his cell phone .

They speak in Hindi, but it is clear that they have come to make a request of him.  The process is slow and they must interrupt their conversation each time that one of the us approaches him with our notebook.  I note a look of frustration registered on one of the women's faces.  There are long pauses in the exchange and after an hour they rise to leave genuflecting before the figure of this man.  I am uncertain if the outcome is good or bad as their expressions do not impart this knowledge. But I know that my teacher is a man with influence.

Swami G is not impressed with my efforts today, and each time I present him with my notebook he scores each column with red ink.  I am contrite.  Despite my best efforts to imitate his clean strokes on the page, I continue to fail miserably.  On my third attempt, he simply looked at me and says "You're no artist." it should be noted that I am the only one making mistakes and the eight year old within me is mortified.   Thankfully, attention was drawn away from me when a sanyasin came to the door begging for money.  Swami G politely brushed him away. But the man was persistent and began to speak in a whinning voice.  Not put off by Swami G's dismissive offer of sweets, he persisted in his plea.  Swami G flew into a rage and began to shout at the man.  His words were unintelligible to me, but I caught the word bank and surmized that Swami G had asked the man if he looked like the bank.  The exchange lasted for about five minutes until, exasperated Swami G, simply ignored the man. The whole thing was rather comical, and it turned out that this character shows once or twice a week to ask for money.  From where I sat I could smell alcohol on his breath, and it was clear that he had fallen away from the spiritual path a long time ago.

Tonight Premal called her friend in Pune and as luck would have it he had a room available for the three week period that I would be in town. He gave me a discount as I was a friend of hers.I now had accommodation, and I would be starting my journey to Pune the following Wednesday.