Who lives here?

Yesterday saw a health low point. Headaches, stomach aches, loss of appetite. Bit rubbish really. And yet it was still a nice one.

What was particularly memorable was heading back to my guesthouse from spending an evening with some friends. They casually asked if I'd like to be walked back. My gut reaction when asked this is usually, 'no, I'll be fiiiine.' But then I actually thought about it. The walk is a good twenty minutes and involves walking along the Ganga at night and trying not to get lost through the total maze that is Varanasi. With only a torch for company. So I said, yes please. An escort would be nice.

So we made our way to the Ganga at about midnight. The evening light is creepy to say the least. It is straight out of a horror film. Of course this place is mentally busy and active during the day, but at night the riverside ghats are a different story. As we made our way down the stairs, to our right we could hear an incredibly loud drum session coming from somewhere. We continued to walk. Above there were birds circling and making noise. Ok, keep going. A bit further there was a bunch of geese making some distressed sounds. They just couldn't be quiet. Relax geese, please. You're making us nervous. And then in the corner of my eye I saw a figure sitting on the side of the ghat. As we passed, he got up and started following us. And then four dogs were ahead, fighting and howling. I looked up. The moon, through the misty, grey-black polluted sky was a kind of egg cup. Judging from the circumstances, I would have sworn it was full. Then we passed a little hut with some babas sitting smoking. Then I shone my torch up to the left, and a child is just pissing openly down the stairs. Then another hut with some raucous singing. The guy was still following us. I made some obvious comment about the fact that some creepy guy was following us, just in case he thought maybe we hadn't noticed that some creepy guy was following us.

Then we reached the burning ghat. As always there were hundreds of people watching friends, relatives and complete strangers being reduced to cooked white meat. And then I made it back to my guesthouse.

Man this place is intense. What occurred to me as I was walking is that this is Varanasi. This is normal. This is how things are here. It's easy when you keep breezing through places, spending only a week or two, to think that it's some kind of act. That yeah, it's weird, but it's only weird for a couple of weeks. But no, this is how it is. It's this fucking crazy all year round. I couldn't possibly imagine living here.

Earlier yesterday as I was lying in bed feeling a bit ill, I could sense something moving. I could feel a vibration in my head. I was thinking, fuck, I'm ill. My head is vibrating. This is not good. I'm going to explode. I opened my eyes and I saw a mouse. I jumped up, and then I couldn't see a mouse. My hair was quite strongly in my peripheral vision and I thought maybe I was imagining it. Maybe I'm going mad.

I looked under my bed. And there was a little mouse. Ok, fair enough, it's India. Mice are common and are no real problem, but as I was feeling rather groggy I didn't really fancy making an afro home for one. So I got the dude from the hotel. I said, "umm, problem. I have a mouse in my room."

Him, living in a world of denial: "No, problem! We have no mice!"

Me, living in a world of ache and truth: "No, you have mice. Look, I wouldn't mind but it just jumped on my head. This is not cool."

Him, delusions raging: "Ahh, it is good luck to have a mouse touch your head. I wish a mouse would touch my head. It is a sign that something good will happen."

Me, grim: "Ok, look I don't believe that. All I know is that I don't want a mouse burrowing in my hair."

Him, frankly pushing it: "But it is good luck. You are lucky."

Me, sarcasmo: "Ok, well why don't you catch it and then you can rub it all over your head. Just think how lucky you'll feel."

Him, predictably taking me quite literally: "No, it doesn't work like that."

This went on for far too long. I got bored and went back to bed, leaving my door open. I haven't seen the pesky thing since. I must be lucky huh.

So Gili. I've just spent the afternoon with her. It's been nice. We had a nice open, honest chat about the situation. I'm cool, she's cool. It's all cool. And I think I leave tomorrow, and unless she comes to Goa it's possible I won't see her - at least not in the near future. It's best to part on good terms with no attachments. Just good quality relating. We can part with smiles on our faces and love in our hearts.

I've been reading Osho and Krishnamurti recently, some rather influential Eastern philosophy. It's been making me think about this stuff - leave me alone.

In case you are wondering what all the fuss is about, here's a picture of her. Bear in mind she's also cool. Get it?

I like the way on this picture it looks like she's advertising either smoking, or the giving up of smoking. What do you think?

Ok, now I promise to (as Adam kindly requested) take my cock off the keyboard.

So I think tomorrow or the day after I leave to Kujaraho (spelling?) with, of all people, a girl I met in Jaipur. Remember Noa, the girl who made me think of Angelina Jolie and who was having an intensive fling with a sound English guy? Yep, she's here. And yes, she's now with some rather sound Israeli guy.

Oh, and I think myself and Josh are parting ways. It's probably for the best, you can have too much of a good thing. In terms of parting on good terms, it's same same. I was beginning to resent the 'couple' we were becoming. So, again I am free.

Kujaraho is a place with a shit load of temples and lots of Kama Sutra stuff. And, oh I dunno. Temples. You can see too many, but I guess one day spent seeing loads and loads of cool ones will be kinda fun. And then to Goa for Christmas, parties, alcohol (I guess it will taste nice after my current total sobriety), dancing and no doubt a string of attachments waiting to happen.