A Blinking Of The Eye

It’s 1am. It is also 7am in London and half-past noon in India. We are in the midst of that fugue state, the netherworld of sleep-deprived limbo. I had remarked to Cindy earlier that this is the longest ongoing flight that I have experienced. Somewhere between my malaria pill-induced vivid dreams and my longing for arrival, I remembered a time 30 years ago when Jonathan and I had left the ashram of Sri Rajneesh in Pune in disgust. We had been disillusioned by the shameless maraudings of the Swami’s disciples. Any uncertainty about leaving was put to rest when eating one evening at one of the restaurants frequented by the “RajNeeshis” when the sound was turned off during my favorite song - Bob Marley’s “No Woman No Cry.” It was the last straw and Jonathan and I immediately booked our train tickets to head south to our dream destination of Kovalum Beach in Kerala. The train journey lasted 36 hours traveling third class; this was followed by several further connections. Five days later we alighted from our last bus in Kovalum, removed our shoes and ran down to the beach at twilight. As we dipped our toes in the cool water it seemed in that moment that there had been no journey. Only a moment had passed between our initial step and our final arriving in the cradle of the fulfillment of our desire.