Peaking and tea


I must confess to peaking on India at the moment. I have had it up to here, making a mark in the air about an inch above my eyebrows. The is nothing in particular to have made me peak so thoroughly, except just the relentlessness of the experiences and the desire for a conversation where I am not avowedly divine just because I am vegetarian, don’t eat eggs and can chant mantra. It makes me so loathe to show my other, or slightly more western side in case they are totally shocked and then don’t like me. I really do find myself exhausting. I think it is probably that, rather than India that is grinding me down.
How to rise back to my previous level of existence? This is the question. One cannot be human anywhere, but in private, I find. Frankly one can do anything, but showing tears in India is just not done. And it is all that I feel like doing today.
But I am resolute. I will not. Although the man I am working with this afternoon suddenly asked me if I was happy with my life. It left me breathless for a moment, struggling to stop my eyes smarting. I succeeded and told him that I was fine most of the time, but that I thought life is about learning to be fine all of the time, no matter what the experience. He nodded and said that he was happy but his wife was not. They had lost their 5 year old son a few years ago and she was still finding it painful. My worst nightmare.
So my day today is spent attempting to master my emotions. Truthfully, it is my least favourite state of being, but when I look back over the last few years, I spend less and less time in this state, and more and more time in acceptance, so there is progress.

Now I am sitting in the Rambhag Hotel Restaurant. This is luxury. Total peace and stillness, sweeping lawns, gloved waiters, although the one that just served me had his index finger sticking out of a hole in his. It is slightly less than elegant. I wonder what he did to make the hole…. I won’t go there. Has my mood lifted? Only slightly. I nearly managed an outrageous piece of retail therapy, but I really am turning into a grown up. I resisted. I said no, and walked away. Instead, I have a menu with 5 pages of speciality teas in front of me with prices ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous. I will have Early Grey, thank you to the naked fingered waiter.