Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
'What time is the discourse?'
'Eight. But we should get there by three to get a good seat.'
'Or two?'
'Sai Ram!'
You can never go home. And I should never have come back to a
place where I'd even willed my ashes to be scattered before July 14,
1992. It was just as well: you can't scatter ashes on a dried-up river.
Unless you're a little too interested in symbolism.
The driver was disappointed to find we were leaving at 9:00 a.m.,
not 9:00 p.m. He was enjoying the holy day, had even found some
friends to play with.
'Business meeting,' I explained.
'
Accha
.'
I took a last look at the city of Prasanthi Nilayam, feeling no regrets
at all knowing I'd never see it again.
Before I even realised it, we were approaching the outskirts of
Bangalore. I noticed a huge sign reading WINE SHOP and asked
the driver to stop. A cocktail before lunch would be just the thing,
no?
Knowing wine was probably the one alcoholic beverage the place
didn't
sell, I walked over, attracting much local attention on the way.
Inside was a dingy room with a fenced-in counter, behind which
were ranged many rows of bottles. Two yards away was a stone
quarry; this dive evidently existed to part the quarry workers from
their pay before they could get any nearer to the competing claims
of wives and family. I realised why so many people supported
Prohibition so keenly.
The rogues who ran this demons' den exhibited great joy at having
foreign custom. It would hardly have amazed me to learn I was the
first Westerner ever to step through their portals. I asked for a bottle
of rum. This proved troublesome. They were not accustomed to
such big spenders, and only had mickeys in stock. No problem - I
asked for two half bottles, unfazed by having to pay three cents more
for the same quantity of rum.
This freewheeling spirit moved them. One man set about
laboriously wrapping the two mickeys in separate sheets of
