The Bikini Prophecy - Part One by Matt Kyler

Author:Matt Kyler [Kyler, Matt]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Skoobi
Published: 2016-08-25T04:00:00+00:00

Relief washes over me as I climb into the back of the Ambassador. The refrigerated cabin is perfect for Mel’s proposed tour. She wants to see as many tourist attractions as possible without leaving the car or interacting with people. Given Delhi’s heat and insanity, I think it’s a brilliant plan.

Lloyd and I shut our doors and stare though the sedan’s heavily tinted windows. I feel like a gangsta with a drive-by bullet-list. Our driver edges the vehicle into the manic traffic and chauffeurs us towards our first mark. It’s the scene of an assassination. Silently, we drift past the crowd paying their respects to the murdered Mahatma Gandhi. We cross him off our hit-list and aim for bigger targets - India Gate, Raj Ghat, Parliament House and Christ knows what else. Not once do we exit the car.

Eventually, the sense of cultural aversion begins to niggle me. But I let it go because Mel and Lloyd are easy company. Both are laid-back and fun. And every travel yarn they tell is recounted with just the right amount of awe, horror, lack of pretence and plenty of self-deprecating laughs. Unlike me, they’re on a vacation with no higher purpose. There’s no social angst, no ego and no search for self. These guys are strictly in it for fun. That’s not to say they haven’t been ‘touched’ by India. They have. But as spiritual travellers, they’re totally ‘mainstream’. Which means no bed-bugs, tight budget or public buses. Just clean sheets, credit cards and plane flights. Lucky pricks.

I usually mock these type of people back home. Sneer at their white picket fence, mundane career, married-to-a-mortgage outlook. But recently I’ve been having doubts. Because right now, a regular income and an annual vacation seems pretty attractive. As does having someone to share the journey.

Of course, I’m not good at any of that stuff. At least not according to Claire. But I’d like to try again. This time with a more confident partner. Someone without baggage. Someone who understands my career. Someone who needs family. Someone like Emma, for instance.

I know Emma and I would be a great fit. We could trek the globe once or twice a year. Book spur-of-the-moment jaunts paid with income from TV. Stay at lavish resorts with air conditioned rooms, free massages, horizon pools, spa baths and an all-you-can-eat buffet. That’s the life I could have with Emma. Well, if that was her thing. Truth is, I don’t really know if it is her thing.

Truth is … I don’t really know Emma.

Finally, a tourist attraction we can’t dodge appears. It’s distinctive logo rises like a phoenix above Delhi’s central business district of Connaught Place and Lloyd instructs the driver to pull over.

The three of us spill onto the pavement and quickly find shade under a circular shopping colonnade filled with fast food chains, department stores and fashion boutiques. It’s an India I never knew existed because the stereotype I’ve been fed via mainstream media is a life of squalor, disease, disaster and under-privilege … with an occasional cricket match thrown in.

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