Travel Without Arriving

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Some Zen master or another suggested it is better to travel than arrive, but he did not have the day I did. A day after reading about a horrible crash of an overcrowded bus in Kangra where I had just been, I found myself on a bus with 120 fellow sardines, the conductor always willing to stop for more. I stopped worrying about holding on, as there was no where my body could go. I did worry about my ribs being crushed, but like nuts in a jar, with the shaking of the bus coming down the bumpy mountain road, some settling of contents did occur, enough that I had some time to reflect on what might await me on arrival in Delhi. Dreams of that perfect cinnamon bun from the German Bakery, the hot shower (first wash in 4 days) or the just right hotel room, cheap but clean and quiet.

The trouble with this sort of dreaming is that the reality can seldom match the fantasy- the croissant is stale, the shower is cold, and the cockroaches are bigger than one remembers. But last night, after 11 hours of claustraphobia, I arrived, and having no idea where the bus had dropped me, found an honest auto-rickshaw driver who offered to drive me to my destination for 40 rupees. Well I knew that was a crock, but went along against my better judgment. After some "which hotel" discussion, he admitted the real price was 120 but a hotel commission would be paid him.

I said "I'll pay the 120"

Without a word he turned and drove, and 15 minutes later I was stripping out of stinky clothes, into perhaps slightly less stinky clothes, and looking for a midnight chai. The cinnamon bun was fresh, the water was hot, the bed linen was clean- well, laundered anyway, and I fell asleep easily. Maybe arriving was better than travelling.

There has to be a catch. Remember the cockroaches?

Getting up in the night to pee, I walked two steps and "crunch". Really, it went "crunch". I heard it clearly, and felt it too, a splash of something on my toes.

Narayani tells the story of a little dance I did one night, upon hearing her harsh whisper of my name, meant to inform me that a tiger was walking 10 feet from me. I'm sure that the jump and the squeal I did last night would compete, and possibly leave the tiger dance in its wake, as I felt something hard squish under the ball of my big toe.

Suddenly I was frozen on the spot. No idea where I was, a strange hotel room, total blackness, and some monsters on the floor all around me. My heart was zooming, I was in a nightmare.

Well,I calmed down in a moment or two, inched my way to a wall, and eventually found a light switch, and as the light came on, out of the corner of my eye saw scurrying, and from the corner of my ear (why not?) heard it too, as several dozen ( are cockroaches counted in dozens?)of the buggers ran for cover.

All except one.

Next to the bed, the smashed remnants of a once proud Grandfather cockroach. Dead? No way. All 6 legs on his 3 inch body moving like crazy, a blob of yellow ooze stuck to the floor seeming to impede his progress. Totally grossed out now-hadn't even looked at my foot yet- I took a newspaper and brushed it into a corner, where it lay behind a waste bin. It's family could look after it now, and I still needed to pee.

By morning it was gone. Along with any hopes of getting back to sleep. OK, only a cockroach, but squishy things in the night can move adrenaline as much as any tiger. I checked out this morning, a short journey across the road, to a hotel with smaller cockroaches.

A guy can dream, can't he?

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Comments

[Paritosh]

Urrgghh The bloody cockroaches........ I try and imagine being in India travelling, ON A BUS and I just shudder to think of it. it would be like torture a kind of penance, actually pugertory would be a better word!!! So for now I'll stick to the Town and Country bus that gets me to Dartington from Totnes to work. Have great adventures and better dreams Narayani and I are off to Taunton at the weekend for a night out, staying with Sheila With Lots of Love Paritosh XXX