A strange Sadhu .

Pushkar, 06-03-1995. It is early morning and Christine is snoring contentedly at my side. Despite the passion of last night and all the booze, charas and pot that came with it, I feel restless and ill at ease. I leave the bed quietly and dress trying to pick my own clothes out of a multitude of garments strewn all over the room. Pieces of left over food and empty bottles of Khazana Superstrong Beer, a french bottle of red wine we acquired mystreriously on the way home late last night. I leave the chaos and Christine stark naked asleep on the bed in the middle of all this, and walk the short distance to the nearby temple that is dedicated to Lord Brahma. It is only 06.00 h. in the morning but a shruffy looking Sadhu is already happily puffing away at his chilam, he probably wants to get stoned together with the approaching sun, not a bad idea and I join him. It does not take me more than 10 min. to realise the poor sod`s brain cells have been burned away by a life time of heavy charas smoking. His religious queeste for Lord Brahma came to bumby stop years ago leaving him with fried brains. I see his orange colored robes flashing through the temple when he gets up to boil some water for chai. I can see the orange color brighten up when he passes through the rays of early sunlight that filter through the holes in the roof. The shadows start to play tricks on me and I realise I might very well be a few mental levels higher as I originally thought. Pretty good charas this sadhu has got.