Sunday

Sunday lazy Sunday morning. Woke up at 10:30, wrote a little in my journal, went to the Internet cafe, got locked in an ATM room (someone had to help me get out), got some lunch, went home and watched a movie (I found a hilarious DVD rental place near my house that sorts American movies by movie stars). I took a taxi to the metro to Park street. It's so different exploring the city alone. Everything is sharper. 

 I found a cafe and started to read the Tagore I bought on College Street. His poetry was resonating and true in a completely non-pretenctious or condescending way. He talked about spirituality. Fuck incense, bowing and rituals. "Leave this chanting and singing and telling of beads! Whom dost thou worship in this lonely dark corner of a temple with doors all shut? Open thine eyes and see thy God is not before thee! He is there where the tiller is tilling the hard ground and where the pathmaker is breaking stones. He is with them in sun and in shower, and his garment is covered with dust. " He speaks of learning to learn yourself because you're the only one in it for the long haul. You can spend your whole life looking for yourself through things and people and never once shut your eyes and look inside. He tells us to stop procrastinating life away, because this is it. We're all going to die and then that will be that. "The song that I came to sing remains unsung to this day. I have spent my days in stringing and in unstringing my instrument. The time has not come true, the words have not been rightly set; only there is the agony of wishing in my heart. " I went to a nearby temple where they have meditations every Sunday at 7pm. It was on the main street but no one was to be found. I was cautious but went around back. There were many statues illuminated with flowers and people praying at them. I sat down and soon after a gong sounded and the lights turned off. I closed my eyes and let the heat and incense of the night sink in. A half an hour passed in a few minutes and I was deeply calm but also sad. I went to find dinner using the guide book which first took me to this very loud fast food place I just couldn't handle at the moment. The only other place it had listed was a place called Ivory. Candlelit with white tablecloths, they chilled my bottled water in a bucket of ice (lol). Waiters brought out my food served it on my plate, and then waited, watching until I finished so they could reserve me some more. It was ridiculous and I couldn't enjoy it--I just felt uncomfortable. I was the only one eating alone, and I was not used to such extravagance after having eaten street food for 2 weeks. When I walked outside I found 3 homeless children laying on the sidewalk asleep. I got home feeling melancholy about life, and then it started to rain. It seems the whole city was swelling, waiting for the rain with baited breath, just getting dustier and dryer. It poured and the thunder cracked and I sat in the window and let a whole half of me get soaked before crawling into bed and falling asleep. Many of my friends are off in other countries this summer. Sreeerupa said when we all return and share, we'll have the story of the whole world.