Chapter 3
Anticipation of
“When troubles surround us, when evil comes. The body grows weak, the spirit grows numb. When these things beset us, he doesn’t forget us. He sends down his love, on the wings of a dove. On the Wings of a snow white dove.....”-‘On the wings of a dove,‘ by Dolly Parton
The pull of the G-forces gently held Tom in his seat as the plane banked, hard left, immediately after take off - setting course for
He knew that soon he would be experiencing the extremes of human existence; in living color, and with full surround-sound stereo.
The spiritual and temporal growth that served as the foundation for Tom’s heightened state of awareness had been building for over 20 years. Although, he didn’t always understand his path during the process.
It seemed so simple - life. “Work hard, think logically and strategically, and have the balls to follow your dreams and plans. Then, Bingo! Happiness will be there,” he had reasoned in his collegiate youth.
“Duh! Was I ever wrong!” he’d thought.
With an excellent education behind him, and a career firmly on track, all he had to do was find a wife.....a college sweetheart, maybe....and forge a wonderful marriage and family. Then life would unfold. That had been his plan. The template for life that he’d been taught from birth. That was the only way, or so he thought.
Shaking himself from ruminating thoughts, Tom looked at the little video monitor in front of his seat. It showed a representational plane flying over a blue map with white letters. The little plane began flying into
“Life does go on. Just like the little plane, and sometimes with about the same level of comprehension,” he lamented.
“Where are you bound?” asked the polite young woman seated to his right, across the aisle.
Surprised by her voice and her abrupt presence, but thankfully shaken from his thoughts, Tom replied:
“To
“I don’t even get off the plane in
“That's wonderful, I’ve always wanted to visit
“Oh, I understand. Completely!” she interrupted excitedly.
“That’s one of the reasons I’m going. I’m participating in a University exchange program.”
“That should be wonderful. Where are you from?”
“A small town south of
She glowed with an infectious positive energy. Tom was easily caught up into it, and enjoyed having her alongside him during the flight. They spoke about various topics, and then drifted off to sleep not long after finishing dinner.
Before he knew it, the nearly empty plane lit up, and subtle musical tones sounded - waking them for landing into
“Let’s see, its midnight local time, and I don’t know where I’ll be staying or where I should go first. I’d better ask one of the stewardesses for information,” he instructed himself.
“Miss?” he asked a passing woman.
“Yes, can I help you?”
“Yeah, I’m going into
“It’s a filthy place, we try to fly through and not stay there. Ann?” she asked the other stewardess. “Do you have any suggestions on places to stay in
Ann walked over to them, and began discussing options.
“There isn’t much open at this time. When you get into the airport there will be information booths, and kiosks, for lodgings and transportation. People mostly use cabs, because the busses and trains are infrequent. Use only the state authorized cabs though. They are safest, because they are closely monitored by the government.”
Tom wondered about the necessity of such tight controls over cabs, but he ignored his doubts, and asked about accommodations.
“Is there a hotel where the flight crew lodges? I like to stay at the airline’s designated hotel, in cities I don’t know.”
“No, we don’t stay over in
“Hmmmm,” Tom groaned as he tried to think quickly. “I’ve not even landed, and there are challenges already. Finding a hotel wasn’t one I expected at first.”
“Well,
“To
“And you haven’t a more specific itinerary with bookings?” asked the first attendant.
“What for? I wanted to see what I was getting into before making reservations at places that were so foreign, probably overpriced, and hard to travel to anyway. I’m traveling like a student. I thought I would play it by ear.”
“Just so,” confirmed Ann. “You never know what you are in for in
“I don’t really mind that part. I’m not in a great hurry, nor on a tight schedule. I don’t think
“That's for sure,” chimed in Ann again.
“I brought 7,000 Rupees with me. That should last me for ten days, until more money is deposited into my account at home,” confided Tom.
His admission garnered worried looks from both stewardesses.
“What, isn’t that enough? I heard that it’s a cheap place to travel.”
“Well, it is.....if you travel along with everyone else. Regular good hotels, however, cost just as much as most cities in the world. That 7,000 Rupees will last you about two days.”
“Damn!” exclaimed Tom.
“Oh well, I’ll just do the hostel thing, or small guesthouses. Its ok. I planned on that anyway, just not on the first night there. I wanted to get my bearings first, before jumping right into the scene. Whatever. It’ll work out,” he rationalized.
“You’re a brave one,” commented the stewardess. “Just don’t drink the water. Use only bottled water.”
“I heard that, so I saved a couple from the flight here, to tide me over until I find a store.”
“Well,” she said worriedly; “let me give you a few more so you’ll have enough. Why
“It’s going to sound weird, but I feel drawn to it for some unfathomable reason. It’s as though destiny is calling, and I have no free will to disobey the summons. Not that I want to disobey. It’s intriguing, just a little baffling. After looking at the maps, and reviewing the logistics, it looks like I need one day in
“That sounds quite interesting to me,” responded the stewardess. “I’d like to do that someday, if I could only get the time off. It’s a pain, really, traveling all over the world, but having no time to explore it. Someday, though...” she finished wistfully.
“I think you will, when you really want to, and are able to make it a priority. Thanks a lot for your advice. I appreciate all your help!”
“No problem,” said Ann. As they both returned to the galley, they looked at each other with a ‘poor bastard, I hope he survives’ look.
Their looks, and genuine concerns, weren’t lost on Tom. He appreciated their caring natures; yet, he also remembered what
“It couldn’t be as bad as all that,” he reasoned.
But, he allowed healthy caution to rule, nonetheless.
The stewardess came back with an armload of bottled water and packaged snacks for Tom. He was surprised, and appreciated the caring gesture, but it also highlighted their concern for him.
“I’d better mind their caution,” he schooled himself.
He packed the welcome supplies away in his bag.....his only bag. His friend Ritchie in
“Much less to carry,” was Tom’s justification.
Now, he was happy that he only had the simple bag to worry about. Light baggage kept him mobile and unencumbered. Just as he completed stowing away his bag, the plane began to descend into
So it was, with a mixture of ambivalence, trepidation, and barely contained joy, that a major chapter of Tom’s life began....anew.
“Maybe, its even a different book?” he mused. “I’ll come back from this changed, but how?”
He didn’t know, and so he wondered......
*********
The plane landed with a thud at the
“Even if I have to stay the night in the airport, that’ll be ok,” he reassured himself, as he disembarked from the plane. Logic said that he would be fine, but he also knew that
The stewardesses wished him luck as he left, and the young Swiss woman slept through it all.
As soon as he stepped off the plane into the terminal, he knew things were going to be different than he had expected. Customs and Immigration was obtuse, and erratic. At first, Tom attributed that to the midnight arrival time. But as he stood in line, and the humid heat, buzzing mosquitoes, and flies accosted him, he saw that many passengers looked worrisome as they went through the process......mostly the Indians. He thought it was odd that he and another European tourist glided through with welcoming smiles, yet the Indian émigrés were given a thorough, and obviously stressful, review.
“I guess it’s the tourist dollars thing,” Tom reasoned.
“Why are there so many flies inside the airport terminal?” he groaned.
As soon as he walked into the circular rotunda of the main terminal, he knew he was in trouble. Almost all of the small shops and exchange counters were closed. He went to the Thomas Cook office first, waited 15 minutes before anyone came to the window, and was promptly informed that he couldn’t get an advance on his credit card.
“But, in every city I’ve ever been in you can get an advance at Thomas Cook, and I’m an Airline employee!”
“So sor-ry. Dhis is
“What about an ATM? Is there one around here?”
“What dis that you say? Go away now!” he yelled at Tom, as if he were too busy to be bothered further.
Tom walked to the long, well lighted, but nearly vacant bank counter to get some more cash. Since his conversation with the stewardesses, he’d worried that he hadn’t enough cash, so he wanted more ready cash before he left the relative safety of the airport - just to be sure. He had no clue of how to find a bank in
“If you no want money? What do I care?” the man exclaimed loudly, into the cavernous and near empty terminal. He didn’t even look at Tom, and then walked away into a back room.
Dejected by the weird & hostile environment, Tom returned to Thomas Cook; and asked about exchange rates.
“I can do nothing for you. I told you already!” he said, as he dropped the blinds to cover his window.
Tom realized that the exchange rates were terrible at the bank, and he’d get only half the money he got in
“Welcome to
With extra money in hand, Tom set out to find a place to stay. Even though he would never do it in the States, he went to the ever-present airport fixture - the wall of hotel phones. He used the antiquated phone set to call the state approved hotels to find a place to stay. After another hour of unanswered calls and painful wrangling, he reserved a place at a guesthouse near the historic Connaught Place .
“Now,” he said to himself out loud, “for a cab. I’m exhausted!”
He walked into the cramped offices of the official cab company, and purchased what he thought was another overpriced service, a cab fare into the city to his hotel at 220 Rupees. He didn’t try to argue about prices, or even the necessity of taking a cab; he had given up, and only wanted to get into a bed to sleep.
“You must take this ticket out door to the cabs. Dhis has specific cab number on it! That be your cab,”he said flatly.
Tom accepted the ticket, smiled, and thankfully left the concourse from hell.
“And I thought that
Tom remembered a long night in
Tired, and now a little cranky, Tom walked out of the terminal and into the mass hysteria of the cab pool. Literally dozens of cabbies were congregated there, in a mass of tiny black vehicles with open sides. The cabs were roughly the size of Yugos, without doors. They were three wheeled affairs, that looked like they belonged in a ‘Roger Rabbit’ cartoon.
“Whatever!” Tom thought, “just pick one, show him your ticket, and get out of here,” he decided quickly.
As he walked outside, he was assaulted by ten or twenty cabbies waving him their way. It was dark, confusing, and he was quickly met by two men who cut through the crowd and spoke directly to him.
“Please, you are to ride with me. Let me see your ticket!”
Taking his ticket in hand, the man nodded and confirmed that Tom was his fare. “My cab is this way. Come with us!”
Seeming like the only sensible guys in the crowd, Tom started to follow them. Then, he got worried as they led him into a totally dark area of parked vehicles. There was no one in the area, while the other areas had lights and many people. Tom’s internal alarm went off, and he slowed his pace to nearly a stop. Just as he was about to turn around and run back to the terminal, a man came running up behind him and began screaming. Startled out of his senses, Tom started running back to the terminal......now far away. The screaming man didn’t give up, and passed Tom screaming even louder. Tom was puzzled, and turned to see what was up.
“Get out of here! Thieves! I cut you!” he screamed at Tom’s previous leaders.
Tom then realized that the crazy guy was defending him against his abductors, and was his real cabbie. After chasing off the thieves, he came to Tom panting with exertion.
“Let me see your ticket. I am your cab driver. Those sons of devils would take you away, and rob you!”
Comparing Tom’s ticket to his paper, he showed them both to Tom to convince him.
“See cab number 401! That is my cab, see?” He showed Tom his ticket, with Tom’s destination written on it, and walked Tom to his vehicle that had a number 401 painted on its body.
Tom was convinced, and relieved. He trusted the fellow. While the others seemed to look at him like hungry tigers, this driver was eager to please, and obviously sincere.
“You are very, very, lucky my friend. There are some very, very bad people here. I am so glad I found you in time!”
“Would they have robbed me?” Tom asked, although he knew the answer.
“Most certainly. And, thrown your body away where no one was to find it! Now, what hotel are you staying?”
Tom was not only shocked by the fact that he had nearly been robbed and killed in the first 15 minutes outside of the airport terminal, but more so by the man’s casual reference to his near demise.
“I’m in a different world. I can’t afford to let my guard down, no matter how tired I get! Keep alert, idiot!” he told himself.
The airport terminal, as horrible as it was, seemed like a safe haven now.
“How can I be sure this guy isn’t going to try to do the same?” he worried. “Watch the roads, and be ready to jump,” he instructed himself.
The ride was uneventful, but scary in its speed and random lane changes. The only vehicles on the unlit, and very rough, roads were monstrous old trucks that had to be dodged at every turn. If Tom hadn’t been so scared from the airport incident, and worried about his present driver, the ride would’ve really upset him. As it was, he was happy to have the option of throwing himself out of the vehicle through his open side....if need be. And there were a few times when he felt that the moving roadside was marginally safer than the crazy road. There were no street lights, so it was pitch black. Street signs were nonexistent, and the trucks seemingly came from nowhere, with blinding lights and blaring horns. Tom was convinced that if they were hit by a truck, they wouldn’t even stop to look for the pieces of his cabbie or himself. Death was in his face from the moment he walked out of the building, and the heavenly smell of dried eucalyptus filled the heavy, humid air. It was a strange combination.
“Here is your hotel,” the cabbie announced, as he pulled up to a four story, tenement styled building squeezed between what should have been two condemned buildings.
“This can’t be it,” squeaked Tom meekly. “Take me to another place.”
After what seemed like two hours of travel, really about 45 minutes, Tom had gotten to know his driver and had come to trust him enough to think that he wasn’t going to rob and kill him. The man was too small for that. So, he was willing to trust the man’s judgment for a better place to stay.
“There are no more places. You must have reservation. No places would be open, or open doors after dark. This is your hotel, see sign and paper? The names are most certainly the same. So this must the exact location.”
“Yeah, I see....but....”
“No matter, we get you inside. They will expect you.”
After getting indoors, and seeing the cabbie off with a large tip for saving his life, Tom walked up the three flights of narrow, dark stairs to the reception office. The man in charge was a well educated, middle aged man, who was quite pleasant.
“For how many days are you staying?”
“Just tonight. I leave on the train tomorrow.”
“Just fine. Here is your room number.”
“Is there a key?”
“No key, we don’t use keys here. Too hard to open if people don’t want to leave.”
All Tom could muster to that was: “Oh, ok,” and he went to his room.
The room was a box with a bed and dresser in it, and a bathroom next to the bed. Tom had to climb over the bed to get into the bathroom. The bathroom was a shower stall with a large hole in the floor that served as a drain, and a toilet.
“Well, at least its clean!” Tom joked to himself.
But he worried about security, especially after his airport incident. So, he shoved the dresser up against the door, and the large bed up against the dresser. Afraid that he would get some kind of lice or bugs from the bedding, he lay on top of the stained blanket.....with most of his clothes on. He awoke a few times, to odd sounds of creatures running around the room. Finally, he turned the lights on, only to see some vague shapes run through the shadows and into the hole of the bathroom floor. If he hadn‘t faced death that night already, it would have bothered him. But as it was, he merely left the lights on and fell into a fitful sleep.
The morning brought new hope into Tom’s awareness. He decided to eat breakfast, and leave on the first train to
“Would you prefer milk in your tea?” the man asked without ceremony.
“No thank you, sugar will be fine,” replied Tom cordially.
Tom told him his wild story, and the older man listened in an attentive, but patient, way. This was a story that he heard many times before; only, as he recounted, “with not so pleasant endings.”
“Be thankful for your deliverance. Your calling must be strong indeed.”
Tom had told him about the strange ‘pull’ that brought him to
“One must not question something so strong. Just because it is not explainable, or understandable, does not mean it isn’t very real. Just that our understanding has not been as fast as our hearing. You must learn to trust your inner voice.”
Surprised, in a way he never expected to be in the dump of a hotel, Tom enjoyed his respite with the intriguing gentleman.
“Yes, I have a son at MIT; and my daughter is married to a very respectable doctor in
In his first twelve hours in
“Life can’t get much stranger,” Tom thought.
But, little did he know. His adventure had just begun, and Philip was only the first installment.
*********
“I’d like directions to the train station, please,” the tall, thin, man asked the Indian proprietor in a clipped and obviously edgy tone. “I want the first train out of
“It would do no good to go there now,” replied the Indian.
“But, I must. I need to leave
“I understand how you feel,” interjected Tom. “My name is Tom, yours is?”
“Philip.”
“Where in
“This, after all, is
“I’d love to, but I have to get going,” he replied with an equally game laugh.
“So do I, but again.....this is, after all,
Visibly relieved, Philip took off his pack and sat down. As he sat, he emitted a big sigh of relief.
“Thank you. I would like that. I felt like I was the only person around, and......”
“Yeah, I know. I can guess how you feel. I had my own misadventures last night. I’d like to hear yours first, however. I‘ve only now just calmed down from mine.”
Philip's dark brown eyes glowed in concert with his big sincere smile, as he told Tom his stories.
“By the way......how did you know I was from
“It was the yellow backpack that gave it away!” Tom joked. He purposely avoided anything serious, and poked fun at everything to lighten Philip's spirits, and to calm him down.
“Seriously, its a game that I play with myself - guessing the origin of the people I meet. Lots of clues go into the guessing. Accent, bearing, posture, affectations, language, etc...”
“You play with yourself?” Philip quipped comically.
“Not ordinarily in public, mind you,” Tom retorted without hesitation, but with a big conspiratorial
grin.
Within the hour they were travel buddies, and they headed off to the train station together. Both were happy, and relieved, to be traveling with someone they could trust, whose company they could enjoy; and who would watch their backs in the strange, and often harsh, world of India. As they walked through the slowly awakening streets of
“Stay here, and watch our stuff. I’m going into the official tourist bureau office, and ask around. Someone in line told me that first-time visitors to India can buy first class tickets there, and that they keep a certain number aside for people like us who are new to the place.”
"Ok. I don’t think it’ll do much good, but what do we have to lose?” Philip moaned dejectedly.
“Cheer up, its going to be fine.....we’ll figure something out, ok?”
"Ok.”
Within two hours, Tom was back with two first class sleeper car tickets on the next train to Varanasi.
“How did you do it?”
“There was a nice woman there who helped me out, and gave me this reservation requisition form. And then, I had to pay a little extra to the guy at the ticket window. This is, after all,
“Thanks,” Philip said sheepishly, yet happily.
“Don’t thank me, you owe me a few hundred Rupees! And, I expect you to carry my bags! And......”
“Stop, stop! I get it. I’m now your slave, huh?”
“Naw, slaves went out of style a long time ago. Consider me your ‘benefactor.’”
“I think I’d rather be a slave!”
“Please yourself.... Slave! Hurry with those bags, our train leaves forthwith!” he said with a silly flourish.
“Really?”
“Really! We have to run....”
They grabbed their bags, and with a renewed sense of energy they ran through the complicated and convoluted maze of platforms, rails, and pedestrian bridges to the place where train number 4058 was to arrive. The train was, of course, late.
“Hey, why didn’t you get us seats on one of those ‘air cooled’ trains?” Philip teased, as they sat on the platform and watched trains come and go.
“Because those old things are worse than the open air cars. If the air conditioning breaks, which it often does, you can’t even open the windows. Its much worse than open cars. Anyway, when the trains are moving, the heat isn’t so bad.”
“Really?”
“Hell, I don’t know, but it sounds good, huh?” Tom said with a laugh.
They had connected really well; and were both were surprised that they trusted each other so quickly, and completely. Tom had left all of his belongings with Philip, after knowing him for less than two hours; and Philip trusted Tom’s judgment. Well, most of it.
“Hey, Philip, I wouldn’t eat those things,” Tom said as he pointed the little vegetable snacks on grape leaves, that he was about to swallow.
“Why, not?”
“Everyone, including the Lonely Planet guide, says don’t eat it if you can’t peel it, boil it, or buy it in a sealed package.”
“Tom, when in
“This ain’t
“They’re sick from other things, or starving. Don’t worry so much.....”
"Ok, its your stomach. Just let me know if you feel sick, I have a big supply of antibiotics in my bag. My doctor friend in
“Thanks, but you worry too much.”
The train pulled up to the platform as they were talking. It was well organized, and clearly numbered as to platform, train, car, and berth. Tom was impressed with the organization, if not the conditions of the train. The sleepers turned out to be rough, hinged, beds that swung down and locked into a set position.
“Crude, but effective,” thought Tom.
At one of the next stops, a young woman from
“This isn’t your car, or your seat! Go away!” Susan said harshly.
Tom was surprised at her rudeness, but they were lecherous guys, and they wouldn’t stop staring at her. It was like they wanted to have sex with her, right there, immediately. Both were overweight, extremely ugly, and smelled like pigs who had rolled in their own shit.
“Repulsive is the word I’d use,” said Tom out loud, inadvertently.
He was surprised at his vehemence, but the guys had only gotten worse with Susan, and moved in to sit on either side of her.....squeezing her between them. Tom was getting concerned for Susan, and upset by the aggression in the guys. He’d never met such obnoxious men before. All of the other passengers were pleasant people, but none did or said anything to dissuade them. Then, an old man spouted something harsh at the two guys in Hindi. The two just waved their hands at the old man, and pushed closer into Susan. Philip and Sinjin were surprised as anyone, and didn’t know what to do. Susan, meanwhile, had lost her bravado and was visibly wincing.
“Do they understand English?” Tom asked Susan.
“Yes, enough to know I don’t want them near me!” she said with intentional malice.
It was too much for Tom, and he rose from his seat, and stood before the two men.
“The lady says you’re crowding her, and she wants you to move. Get out of here before I throw your sorry asses off the train!”
By the time he was done, he was shouting into their faces Their sick little smiles disappeared, they got up in tandem, and walked away grumbling, down the length of the car, then on towards another car.
“Jeez, I’m sorry that I lost my temper, but crap, those guys were weird. I came here to learn to be calmer, and I seem to just get more pissed off!” Tom said in an embarrassed tone of voice.
Tom looked around to gauge the reaction of the other passengers, and he received only pleasant smiles in return. Evidently, he wasn’t the only one who didn’t like the creeps......but, he was the only one to do anything about it.
“Susan, how do you put up with that kind of crap?”
“Well, I used to get mad like you did. But when you are a woman traveling alone, no one will defend you, and it only gets worse if I yell at them. They think all white women traveling alone are loose women, and that we want to have sex with anyone. So, they come onto women like that!”
“Ewe,” said Sinjin disgustedly. Everyone laughed at his reaction, and the mood lightened in the berth.
“I’m surprised the locals don’t stand up to them.”
“Its not that kind of culture, Thomas. Its everyone for themselves here....except if you are family, friends, or whatever. Its hard traveling alone as a woman here.”
Tom didn’t say it, but both he and Philip exchanged knowing looks. They both agreed, silently, that it had been hard on Susan. She looked beat up, and emotionally exhausted. She was a tough one, but still.....it wore on her, and it showed.
*******
As the long day neared its end, the blanket of darkness fell completely upon the countryside; and the passengers began to lower their sleeper beds into position, so that they could lay down as intended. The only problem was that there were more people than beds.
“Susan, what do we do?” Tom asked. “These are our seats, right? How do we ask them to leave?”
“You don’t ask, you tell them.....bluntly, and in their face. Otherwise they’ll just sit there - even though they know they’re your seats. This is considered first class sleepers, but they wander in from second and third class, and will take whatever they can get. The other areas are crowded and messy.”
“Jesus!” exclaimed Tom. “If this is first class, I can’t imagine what its like in the other areas.”
“You don’t want to know, or find out. Always travel first class, or don’t travel.”
Then Susan got up, and started lowering the bunks. She didn’t wait for people to move, she made it clear that they were going to get hit in the head with the heavy metal bed, if they didn’t move. It worked, they all disappeared, and they had the berth to themselves. As everyone found their own bed to sleep in, Susan gave them her last bit of advice:
“Put your suitcases in bed with you, lock the zippers up, and lock the handles to the chain on your bed. They’ll come in the dead of night, and rip your bag away and be gone with it before you can even move.”
“Really?” Asked Philip naively. “Isn’t it going to be cramped to sleep with your bag?”
“It’s either that,” replied Susan, “or you lose all your stuff. Which is more inconvenient?”
Not waiting for an answer, she continued: “Remember, lock your zippers too. I had a friend whose bag was there in the morning, locked tight to the bed chain, but it was completely empty. Its up to you what you want to do. Good night!” she said bluntly, as she rolled over to sleep with a small smile - full of pride; from her practical, and therefore superior,
“Beware the panty raiders!” joked Philip to Tom.
“Yeah, really.....” commented Tom in reply. “Goodnight.”
“Don’t let the bed bugs bite......nor any of the locals!” quipped Philip.
Tom smiled at Philip's goodnight joke. He moved around his upper-level bunk, and tried to get a view of the passing countryside through the big window; but it was fruitless. It was inky black outside, without any visible light. Lacking light, the window became a solid shiny wall. He laid his head upon a roll of his clothes, stared at the rusty ceiling; and tried to review all that had happened that day. As the train swayed in a bumpy, but rhythmic, motion it pulled him away from his attempted thoughts, and quickly lulled him into a restful sleep.
©Tibet, Lamplight Unto a Darkened World…the American Delusion, a Parody of life ( L'illusion Américaine, une Parodie de Vie); is copyright protected, by author, Patrick Mahoney. Online Internet Reproduction/Propagation/Quotation Encouraged, with this citation. Any Printed reproduction, other than for personal reading, requires written permission by author, patrickm at http://patrickm.gather.com/ or patrick1000000000@yahoo.com
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