The American

 Thursday, November 17th

I arrive at the domestic terminal of Delhi International airport at 3:0am. I have 6 hours before my flight. Fortunately, I spot that the coffee shop is open.  The ticket counter is teaming with activity and I join the queue, hopeful that I can check my luggage this many hours in advance of the flight. The ticket clerk indicated that I should place my suitcases on the scale and then informed me that I was 28 kilos over weight, this was a domestic flight after all.  The excess fee was three thousand rupees  (approximately $70.00).  I argued that I was an international traveler, and that this was within the weight allowance I was permitted to bring into the country. He looked at me knowingly and said you're from America, aren't you. Only Americans travel with this much luggage. I had nothing to say in my defense.  I handed him the money, cursing the fact that I was lumbered with so much unnecessary stuff.   He looked at me sympathetically, and without saying a word, he handed me back five hundred rupees.  I decided then and there, that by the time I leave Pune, I will have one suitcase less!

The flight was uneventful and within minutes of landing, I had my suitcases loaded onto a trolly.  All I had to do now was call Premal's friend to let him know I was enroute, so that he could meet me with the key.  I reached into my bag to retrieve the cell phone Premal had entrusted to me, to deliver to a friend, on my departure from Pune, and the phone was dead. I had forgotten to charge it.   Exasperated, I located the public phone booth outside.  A small glass cubicle had two of the largest telephones I have seen; appropriately bright red, which sat on a shelf that extended out from the service the service window.  When I finally got the attendants attention, she indicated that I should simply pick up the phone and dial the number.  The moment the line was engaged the meter started counting down in seconds. The call cost 5 rupee.   The owner of the apartment, was already at home waiting for me.

 I approached a crowd of taxi drivers and was immediately accosted by a man in a brown uniform.  He quoted the fare,  and although I thought it  little on the cheap side, I agreed. He elbowed the pressing crowd of drivers out of his path, and hustled me cross the expanse of parking toward to the exit, where I was told to wait.  I thought it odd, and didn't make sense of his directions till he arrived in a brown and beige colored rickshaw. Now the uniform made sense.  He wressetled with the suitcses until he had rammed them into the carriage of the vehicle, leaving me to clambered into what remained of the seat.   As soon as we entered the main throughfare we were, immediately engulfed by scores of motorbikes.  They moved like a great army of black beetles, swallowing up the surface of the road.  In Pune, the motorbike is king!

We arrived outside the apartment complex with out incident to be greeted by Premal's friend.  I quickly settled into my room, and he established house rules and provided me with pertinent information about amenities in the immediate vicinity.  The other tenant arrived, and I was invited to join them for lunch.  This however would be the exception, as I was expected thereafter to find my meals outside.  Access to the kitchen was limited to preparing breakfast in the morning and a light snack in the evening.  I was happy with the arrangement, as this was more luxury than I had been afford the ashram.

After lunch Sasha walked me over to the Osho meditation center, where I registered and signed up for the welcome session scheduled for 9:30am tomorrow morning.  Once I had completed the paper work, I was taken to the on site shop to purchase the requisite red and white gowns that are mandatory, and must be worn by everyone barring the maintenance team.  It was a bit surreal, but I was here for the meditation program, and so had to comply. Dressed in my red gown, felt a bit like the first day at school. The grounds are large and impressive and it will take me time a day or two to get my bearings.  The Resort, also boasts a large swimming pool, tennis courts and a sauna.

I venture around on my own to get the feel of the place before heading back to the apartment.  On the way I stop to have dinner at a restaurant just two blocks way. This will likely be one of my regular haunts, as there are only three decent restaurants to select from.  Koregon Park, is not exactly the center of town and I have yet to discover if this is a good or a bad thing. Pune like its denizens, seems moody and pensive; a city aspiring to a goal that is forever outside of its grasp.