Edit Blog Post
Published: June 23rd 2013
Jenny became friendly with a French woman who paid a short visit to Nepal as a UNESCO cultural consultant. The friendship seemed to be based on Jenny's envy of the woman's sexual allure and alleged promiscuous history. She eagerly reported that Miss Metrier had tried everything, and wouldn't dream of giving up her sexual freedom for marriage. Apparently, Asian men are the best in bed.
Frank had a feeling that Jenny, in her 40s but retaining enough of her youthful looks to pass muster, would have loved to have had an affair or two herself. Miss Metrier fulfilled her dreams perfectly. Here was a woman considerably older than herself, and yet exuding an erotic allure and still living the deliciously wicked life Jenny dreamed of having, if only she could cast off her inhibitions. Maybe she could learn her French friend's secrets; or at least get some vicarious pleasure listening to her stories.
Apparently, Bernadette Metrier was interested in trying 'hasheesh', and both she and Frank were invited around to Jenny's house for a meal and a 'happening'. Frank was commissioned to obtain some of the weed, and, knowing that Tashi knew where to get good quality stuff, he enlisted his assistance. It occurred to him that Miss Metrier would have enjoyed this particular Asian man's attentions.
“We could go to the government shop,” explained Tashi. “Strictly it is the only legal place to buy ganja
, but it is expensive there. Better to go to Pashupatinath.” So they took a taxi to the great Hindu complex where Frank had met the ex-army sadhu
. It was much quieter now, the pilgrims, including his sadhu
friend, having left for other pilgrimage sites all over India.
Tashi escorted him to one of the stalls near the entrance, and started bargaining for the hasheesh
“We should check the quality of this, don't you think?” he said with a grin. “We must make sure that we buy the best for Jenny's dinner party.” So they sat over a bowl of chang
and quietly got stoned. “How is Sunita?” he asked.
“Fine, I think. She’s still in France, so I don't know too much about what she’s up to. She may be flirting with a Frenchman, for all I know.”
“You have spoken a lot about her. I would like to meet her some time,” he said gazing into his bowl of chang
“One day, maybe, when she returns,” Frank said vaguely.
Before they left the complex, Tashi decided to pop into the shrine with the golden bull for a few minutes. “I thought you were a Buddhist,” Frank said.
“I am, but I can gain merit paying my respects to Lord Shiva. At least it can do no harm,” he added. Frank waited outside until he emerged with a huge tikka
mark on his forehead. He congratulated him on his new decorative acquisition.
On the way out, Frank spotted a niche in a wall containing a statue of two figures that looked very much as if they were sexually united. The female was straddling the lap of the male, and kissing him.
“That's Shiva and Parvati,” Tashi said.
“She seems to be the one doing all the work.”
“Yes. He's clever. He just sits back and enjoys it,” said Tashi laughing. “But they are not having fun. They are so self-controlled that they never 'come'. He always has a hard prick, but never finishes the job!”
“Hard prick but forever chaste! What a torture!” And they laughed.
When they got back to his house, Kalpana gave them a grilling.
“Where have you been? I am sure you went to Bodnath.” Bodnath is the great Buddhist stupa
on the edge of the city, the centre of Buddhist worship in the Kathmandu valley. Frank could not think of a more edifying place for Tashi to visit, and yet Kalpana was quite distressed at the thought of his being there. Encircled by the traditional brick houses of the Newars, it consists of a huge white, earth-bound dome bearing a four-sided golden spire. At the base of the spire, on each of its four sides, are painted the mysterious, all-seeing, eyes of the Buddha that look down enigmatically on the chaos of humanity below. Above the eyes, the spire tapers, ascending in little steps to its pinnacle. All around the stupa
, hundreds of small square flags in significant colours hang from the cloth fringed crown set atop the pinnacle all the way down to the ground where earth-bound worshippers circle the stupa
in a clockwise direction, spinning the prayer-wheels set in the base of the dome, or prostrating themselves flat out on the ground and then standing, and repeating their abasement as they move slowly around.
Tashi took her by the waist and comforted her. He told her that they had gone to Pashupatinath, not Bodnath, which seemed to set her mind at rest. An ancient woman turned up to give Kalpana her post-natal massage, and to pass the time Tashi and Frank had another joint. Frank heard Kalpana asks her masseuse:
“Will it kill them?”
“Don't be silly!” said Tashi on behalf of the crone.
Tot: 2.143s; Tpl: 0.052s; cc: 5; qc: 50; dbt: 0.0342s; 1; m:saturn w:www (18.104.22.168); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.4mb