Boston Cooler

10.4.2012

I don’t like getting sick and feeling sick.  After removing a pile of stones from the lower garden a terrible burning in the esophagus and stomach prevailed.  Having just taken a zantac I should be alright but my throat still feels as if something is stuck in it, this result coming from a 2:30am projectile over into the corn field.

Laxman went down to pick up border for the dining room floor and six more boxes of tile.  It will have been a good investment but everyone is tired of some kind of construction that has taken silence away for the past two months.  And Now the painters are plastic-sizing the bricks and they have begun right outside door number six.  Oh thank goodness, the power went out.  I have a few minutes.  The throat is sore, Prakash came by before lunch and before Laxman came to take me out of the conversation.  Poor fella, nothing not working, no no, no tea now, mind not working now.  She teases, he doesn’t understand.  He did tell me he had a good talk with his father and things are better, but not between him  and his mother in law, who dresses in pink today, stands on the steps looking at tourists make their way to the top.

The paint men shined the bricks and it looks good.  Removing rocks with the ancient chop claw left my left arm muscle tight.  Grass was already sprouting up from where rocks lay and were going to remain who knows when.  Maya didn’t want me to do this but I took the task as a personal penance.  Work hard, carry boulders, sharp cuts on the palm and fingers, it’s good to bleed, though not too much. 

 

 

Laxman came home with a roll of carpet for the reception room that will soon lose the big case they’ve used for years, freeing up all kinds of space to spend more money.  Oh to have a sofa.  And a coffee table.  He also brought home the border which is being put up now, so by the end of the day just about everything in the dining room and kitchen will be completed.  And they can begin the reception room tomorrow! 

  The painters return, outside the window, they’re shining up the key chains.  I’d like to go up my throat still hurts, it is relatively calm at three in the afternoon.  Maybe rain will hold off and we’ll start a drier cycle.  Laxman also brought a bottle of Jamesons, the first went very quick, too quick I’d say. 

And as the day dims I told Laxman I removed the stones as an act of penance for sins known and not too clear.  Five hours later the wrists, the forearms, the lower back all strain under normal conditions.  Suffering, what a concept, it is necessary but who wants it oh for the day it is done. 

The sky darkens, thunder rumbles far away, it wants to rain but it is holding up.  Cool winds and I wrap myself in a green wool shawl that thankfully doesn’t itch.  A Japanese foursome check into rooms one to three.  The power has been out for some time, the battery on this computer is below half.  I suppose I should speak my mind if the power remains out and there goes the pc. 

What would you say if you knew this was to be your last sentence on earth?  I would have like to have had a big juicy steak.  I would have liked to have loved someone like a man is supposed to.  I had a few chances, sabotaging each of them on this incredibly long journey.  I don’t know, I would like to have had one more Boston Cooler.  And I can’t not leave out a coney island or two with a side of fries.  I could do these after the steak.  A bottle of Molson.  I would have liked to have heard Dad explain in detail his experiences during World War II.  I would have liked to see my son one last time.  I don’t believe I’d recognize him.

The close to being elderly Japanese are squawking. They’ve pulled the bamboo chairs out on the terrace and it would be a good time to rain now.  Come on, rumble flash, pour….water stains appeared again…drats….a nice paint job already ruined.  Rumble louder….

India.  Rajasthan is the largest state and I don’t know if I have time.  Well, you can do Varanasi, take the train to Delhi and then however to Jodpur or somewhere else. I could do it with 17 days.  The visa expires on the 13^th of November. 

As for Bodh Gaya.  I could still go there first and then look at the time and decide.  There is an airport nearby.  Goa and Francis?  November in India.  Hmmm….Or I might find myself somewhere I never thought I’d be.

All is calm outside.  The rumbles moved on, the Japanese moved on, even the birds have moved on.  I will move on if January rises. Meanwhile an orange moon rises in the east.  Suraksha exclaims, sunrise at night.  When day becomes night and night becomes day, what shall we say but time it is to get away.