8.20.14
6.30am—The lightning and thunder
at 3am was loud and violent and ya had to wonder who got hit. The sun tries feebly to get through the fog
and clouds, all is calm, too calm.
Dead silence, where are the song birds, wait here comes
Ram with a squeegee. Where did you sleep
last night, man child? A light rain
begins to fall, sure we miss the sun now.
You gotta be tough up here, you need the sun to live, to keep going, to
hope for new life. Let’s start with a
cup of tea, eh? Thirty one days of
precipitation.
In the dining room the driver arrives with milk from
the farm, the guide for the two in room six listens to what he says is 40 year
old Teej music. Sounds the same as
today’s, dai. Laxman cuts strips of wood
to repair a window and Suraksha is slow to get up. Ram meanwhile buzzes around and Maya is in
the kitchen. Fog, wind, rain, yuck, what
are we going to do today?
10.06am
I fight this hangover feeling despite not having
anything yesterday or the day before. It
feels more like a low grade fever, the sun would be good right now. Warm me up, Maya asked me to go fetch more
milk, ok, I will do that, but slowly, bistarly, I go. The Chinese woman who I thought was Japanese
made country chicken soup last night.
The broth was excellent and most of what I could identify was also
good. Did you have a chicken foot in
your bowl? Ah, ya, no thanks, I am
full.
It is good to
remove articles of clothing and I have enjoyed not wearing socks for 40
straight days. My feet are happy when
they are free, they tell me. Ram is
cleaning room one though no one stayed there last night and will be coming for
room six soon. The ladies left somewhat
of a mess, surprisingly, but they also left a current newspaper. Wow, what’s going on in the world. Yikes, I don’t miss newspapers.
For five minutes I listen to a very chirpy-buzzy bird
on a branch below. Its call does not
follow a pattern except for one note and it is quite frustrating to listen to
this rant and not be able to spell out what I hear. The driver arrives to tell me Beem came with
milk so I don’t have to walk to the farm.
Considering how slow I have been to go, it makes sense now that he is
here.
We should take a walk.
It is so bright outside and it ain’t gonna rain anytime in the next
thirty minutes or so.
4.53pm
“No mobile, no television, only buffalo.”
And a buffalo will keep you busy. Two buffaloes will really keep you busy, but
if one of the buffaloes isn’t ready to give milk then it’s only feeding two
buffaloes which is still a lot of work.
It didn’t rain on my walk and visit to the farm until
upon my return standing under the corrugated tin roof of the mountain top
temple did a drizzle come out of the fog/cloud.
Construction continues, man boys carry 100lb sacks of cement from the
landing above the Hill Top restaurant down to the four sites that sit fat right
next to each other along the main steps.
Three young male Asian travelers checked in to room six
while I was out. Their voices congregate
on the balcony now yawning loudly.
How could multiple universes determine the fate of
humanity he asks. Without hearing Mister
Freeman’s response I will guess the same guess I guessed four years ago, the
next dimension/universe is in the smallest of particles and all we got to do is
walk on through. I volunteer!
But if I were to speak of multiple universes from
experience, no one would believe me.
So? So, what if someone does
believe your synchronicity with an ancient spirit is evidence of another
universe/dimension, so what? Is there
anything else you’d like to say that you didn’t say five years ago? How much of what you experienced then is of
any help to you today?
That is a good question and probably not much. And I think sometimes if I’ll ever be able to
go there again because the questions raised since are a little different from
the questions I was asking five bloody years ago that led me to this…this…I
don’t know what to call it these days.
Dusk arrives in the fog, it ought to be a naturally
optimal time to ponder. Guests with
guides check in. The guides recommend
this place, I think, perhaps as one of the few places presently operational up
here. Aside from Ram’s Mountain View and
The Lake View Lodge oh yes and the recommended Panoramic, this is the best
bet.
Are you going to enjoy your return to reading as the
substitute for disappearing from this world?
What choices I have I no like anymore, for now, for a while. Relax.
Relax? I gained twenty pounds
relaxing last year. I have to find
something physically challenging and do it regularly. Camping?
It’s all about the car, dude. Learn a watersport across the barbed
wire? Return to playing tennis? Ha, no chance at all there. I would in Buraimi, though, though there are
no tennis courts over there. Golf. Yes, there’s a lot of walking and
swinging. I don’t know. I was thinking swimming and the gym. And I’d consider running again if I persuaded
myself the cause was worthy.
And how are you going to eat differently? Ya, the same thing for ten months. But I liked it! What to do.
I think it’s time to go up.
9.19pm
Ending the night with a few incantations. The fog is thick and on my window a strange
blinking neon Halloween green eyed firefly goes up and down. It is sending me a
morse code from nature. Go..to..sleep. The Chinese threesome in room six are gabbers
in their room and please don’t come outside.
The incantation and the bug are enough.
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