Shanti Bloody Shanti by Aaron Smith

Author:Aaron Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781938901133
Publisher: Roaring Forties Press

After four days of yoga and solitude, I hear from Merav. Kidding myself that I came here for a spiritual workout, it’s really an erogenous one I hope for. Having been celibate for four months, not for lack of trying, I’m keen to break the drought. I haven’t been laid since my pizza delivery sessions with Amber back in Australia. I shower, even shaving my balls and puffing talcum powder into all my crevices, just in case. Wanting to look my best I wear my cleanest dirty clothes and change the sorry looking condom that’s degraded past the point of no return in my wallet. With my most Zen spiritually enlightened face, a steeled expression similar to what Charlie the Kobra uses, I head out the door. In the rickshaw I pass a bewildered, lost, and clammy looking Ian. He’s standing in the middle of the bazaar being hounded by the hash hyenas. Noticing me he calls out, and I yell back as we scuttle past, “Hey Munty, I’m just in a hotel down the lane way back there, turn left then two rights, can’t miss it, I’ll meet you a bit later.”

“Um, righto, will do . . .”

Knowing full well he didn’t have a hope in hell of finding me, I tap my rickshawallah on the shoulder telling him to chello and not stop for anything. I’m determined not to fall into Ian’s grasp now that I have a real girl to pursue, one with all the good bits.

Meeting Merav, we walk along the river and watch the burning ghats. Kind of feels inappropriate for a date, if that’s what we’re having, so we continue walking. There’s a sexual tension in the air, but also an awkwardness. There is chemistry, and now is the moment to kiss, but something stops us. For some reason it just doesn’t feel right. She looks so beautiful, long flowing curly locks of her hair catching a light breeze against the backdrop of the river with bathing pilgrims and majestic eroding temples. Perfect romantic setting, but something isn’t clicking. It occurs to me she slightly resembles my ex-wife Stella. I start to question my motives. Looking at the river, Merav speaks. “Yesterday I was walking here and I saw a pack of wild dogs. They were eating something. It was the body of a baby floating in the river. It was blue and rotten.”

Well, that certainly kills the mood. After that, we struggle to make conversation. Without her cousin Nimrod we seem to have nothing to say to each other. Attempting to keep the conversation alive, I persevere. “So, where is Nimrod?”

“He went to Rishikesh to study yoga.”

Another pregnant pause, until Merav speaks again. “You know there is a solar eclipse today. People are going to watch on my guesthouse rooftop—we can go.”

A solar eclipse due to occur this afternoon completely passed my mind in anticipation of a possible sexual encounter. Agreeing to the idea, I hope it takes the pressure off our stifled conversation.

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