I had spent a month living in the ashram
A month living in a tiny hut with spiders,
Bats, cockroaches, grasshoppers, mosquitoes,
And who knows what else,
A month in a hut that was originally designed
To be a toilet, so one of the monks told me,
A month eating rice, morning, day, and night,
A month stumbling through the underbrush at dawn
Regardless of the possibility that the place was crawling
A month of constant prayer and introspection in
Shape manner and form,
A month of heavenly nirvana where all things
Co-existed as if God himself had designed
And well he did,
I needed some respite.
I needed a drink
And I’m not talking water,
Off to town I go in a crazy bus watching Tamil
Movies with people making more noise
In a second than I had experienced in a month.
I wanted to play up so I headed for a hotel
With the wonderful name of
Heaven a 4 star reality and it had a bar.
The bar had those Wild West doors you
See in cowboy movies.
Entering I found the bar had
Its walls covered in Clint ‘hang em high’ Eastwood
I was in desperate need of a beer, and the barman
Served me the coldest beer since I left Australia,
Heaven on a stick!
After a while the barman enquired
My good name,
And I said my good name is Ken,
He was in his mid-twenties,
And with a straight face,
And while the television blared a cricket match,
With Australia playing South Africa, and
With his eyes steady without even a hint of a smile,
My name is Joseph Stalin
And when I’m not serving beers
I go to university studying economics!
Oh India I love you so…