Guru

I was going to go shopping but I decided to see a guru instead. It all came about in an unexpected way. I'd just sat down in a little cafe to have some lunch. It was quite busy, so when a young man in his twenties came in and looked for a seat he found there weren't any spare tables. As I was at a table on my own, he asked if he could sit at  my table. I was hesitant, as I'd walked for miles that  morning and was hot, tired and not really in the mood for conversation, but I said yes.

It soon became apparent that I didn't have a choice. After asking the usual questions about where I was from and how long I would be in India, the conversation took a more unusual turn. The man, who introduced himself as Khan, was chatty and friendly and his English was very good, so we were able to talk freely. I relaxed a little and started to ask him some questions.

He was a student who'd just finished his accountancy studies. When I asked if he'd found a job yet he replied, 'No, not yet. I just finished a short film-making course.' Intriguing. This was something different, something unexpected and something warranting more questions.

'What kind of films would you like to make?' I aked.
'Documentaries.'
'Do you have a subject in mind?'
Yes, I'd like to do something on gigolos.'
Ok, this was not the answer I was expecting. I asked him to explain more.
'In India, in Jaisalmeer, sometimes foreign women pay good-looking Indian men to spend time with them. Sometimes it's just company, dinner and drinks, sometimes it's sex too. Just a bit of fun. What do you, as a foreigner, think of that?'
I hesitated.
'Well,' I said, choosing my words carefully, as I formed an opinion on something I'd only just heard about, 'I wouldn't do it myself, but I wouldn't judge people who did it, as long as they both knew the situation.'

'That's good. I also want to make the film from the gigolos' point of view too,' he said. 'Why they do it and what they think about it. India is full of interesting people like that if you look below the surface.'
I had to agree: I'd had several encounters with them and this seemed to be turning into another one. But Khan had moved on.

'There's a very interesting man here in Jaipur. He's a guru and he's amazing! He'll tell you all sorts of things about you that you've never told anyone else before. When I went to see him, I cried.'
'Why?' I asked, surprised at such openness from a stranger and an Indian lad in his twenties, at that.
'I have some problems,' he said vaguely, 'and I'd never told anyone about them. As soon as he saw me he told me what my problems were. I couldn't believe it, so I cried.'
'Wow!' I said. 'So what does he do exactly?'
'He heals people with natural methods; homeopathy, stone therapies, yoga, meditation, that kind of thing. You should go and see him, he's amazing. You'll cry. Just tell him your name and he'll tell you all your problems.'

I wasn't sure, as I've always been a devout skeptic of fortune telling, New Age therapies and the like. I believe - as many people do - that, to some extent, a vulnerable mind believes what it wants to hear, so when it is told that it suffers from an issue that probably affects most people, e.g. fear of failure, it recognises that as its own personal, private problem.

However, I listened, while he talked on in such an animated way about how fantastic this guru was and how popular he was in the West and how he had many followers in Europe and America.

'He lives in Jaipur. You could go and see him today. He's probably not busy now, as it's Sunday. He doesn't charge for his services, as he's writing a book.' I didn't really see what that had to do with it, but I let it pass.

I had several hours which I'd planned to kill with an overkill of shopping, but this sounded too intriguing. So gradually I found myself thinking, they saying out loud, 'Ok, why not?

'Great. I'll get a rickshaw driver to take you there and wait for you. And I'll just call Guru now, to see if he's free.' At which, he took out his mobile, made an extremely brief call of about five seconds and hung up.

'He'll be free in about 15 minutes,' he confirmed.
"Ok, that's perfect.'

I was beginning to get a tiny bit excited at the prospect. My own guru session, just for me! What would he do? What would he tell me? And, more to the point, would I want to hear and believe it?

'He lives quite near the factory shops too,' Khan continued, 'so you can have a look at those too, while you're there.'

That was the moment when big, silver, clanging, braying, hollering alarm bells should have rung. But, this being me: ever-trusting, ever the hope-over-experience kind of girl I told them to be quiet.

Outside, Khan quickly hailed an auto-rickshaw and with a quick jabber in Hindi to the driver, the deal was done.

'I told him where guru lives and he'll take you there, wait for half and hour then bring you back. I have to go, as I'm meeting a friend at the cinema,' he continued.

'Well, thank you for organising this,' I said, genuinely enthusiastically. 'It was lovely to meet you.' I meant it. He was a fascinating person, so unlike anyone I'd met before and I was pleased to have encountered him.

'Good luck,' he said and, with a handshake, he was gone.

As the auto jarred over the rutted and pitted roads, bearing me inexorably closer to Guru, I was slightly jolted to my senses and began to doubt my judgment. I didn't know either of these men or where the rickshaw was taking me. I could almost hear Aleks' voice in my head cautioning wisely, 'Be careful, Baby, and take care of yourself.'

Anything could happen - but to me, that was precisely the point. This was an opportunity that had presented itself to me unbidden, over a plate of curry and it was mine to either seize or dismiss. I'd chosen to seize it.

As the shops and bazaars gave way to residential housing and hazardously supine cows in the middle of the road, I reasoned that if it was all a scam, I could just go back to the city centre and it would all have cost me no more than the rickshaw fare. And if it proved to be true... untold possibilities awaited me.

After 20 minutes or so, the driver told me we were there and pulled up - outside a jewellery store! I felt sick.

'Guru?' I asked helplessly.
'Guru inside.' He motioned to the shop.
'Really?' I asked, unable to keep the sarcasm out of my voice.

I went in anyway. May as well go through with it. It seemed they were expecting me.
'Guru in the office,' one man said, as if this were a perfectly normal place to store a guru.

I felt utterly foolish, utterly duped - again! Flushed with shame and anger I went into Guru's office. The room was lined with display cases full of jewellery and precious stones and behind a desk, also a display cabinet, seated on an office chair was Guru, in none of his glory.

He looked about 40 with a luxuriant glossy black moustache and thick black hair. His cheeks had an unusual spiritual flush. I looked closer and decided that he was, in fact, wearing blusher. He was dressed in a neat sky-blue shirt and black trousers.

He tilted his head slightly to one side and smiled a tight-lipped, patronising smile. My anger burned hotter and my cheeks did not need the benefit of cosmetics, hot-flushed as they were.

'Sit down.' He motioned to a chair on the other side of the cabinet. 'Why are you here?' he asked in a silky smooth challenge.

'Um, well, someone told me you were a very interesting person and that I should come and see you, so I did,' I muttered, feeling ridiculous.

'That's the trouble,' - patronising smile, 'you didn't come because you know of my work,' - patronising smile. 'Let me just say one thing: you are emotionally blocked. You need to relax more.'

"F--- you!" I thought, "You're a fine one to talk. I'm not the one wearing blusher." I didn't say this.

'You've been in a relationship for three-and-a-half years,' he stated. I didn't have the heart to correct him that it was only two-and-a-half, so I said, 'Yes, I have.'
'What do you want to know?' I realised he was expecting me to lead this discussion, not perform for me the magic trick of knowing it all already.

'I can see you're uncomfortable. If you're skeptical, I'd like to talk to you,' - patronising smile. 'If you're not, I'd like to help you, but you have to relax,' - patronising smile.
'Well,' I blurted,' I'm just suspicious that a guru who deals in stone therapy happens to be in a shop selling stones and jewels.'
'I haven't tried to sell you anything,' he said sharply.
"Bloody hell!" I thought. "I've only been here 10 seconds. I'm sure you'll get round to it."
'You have to understand that, as a tourist, tricks are always being played on me to get me to buy something, so that's why I'm suspicious.'
'This is my family's business, which is why I'm here.' Again that infuriating, tight-lipped, I'm-being-very-understanding-to-you smile and head cocked to one side. I wanted to wipe his girlie blusher off with my bare fist!

Now I'd heard enough! Of course it was a family business. They all are. Kahn, probably his son/nephew, had come across me by chance and taken the opportunity to catch me unawares. Well, all credit to him, he'd done it. That briefest of brief phone calls was probably to Uncle Guru to say, 'I've got a good one for you here. She'll be with you in 20 minutes.'

'I don't feel comfortable here, so I think I'll go,' I said. And with that, I picked up my things and left. In desperation he called after me, 'All I can say is your crown chakra is strong, as you go by intuition, but you are emotionally blocked. Working with orphans or old people would help you.' I nearly laughed in his face!

The rickshaw driver was most bewildered by my early appearance and his comment fully confirmed my stupidity: 'No visit factory shops?' That had obviously been the plan all along. 'No, just take me back to the city,' I said curtly.

On the way back, with hot tears of shame and pride stinging my eyes, I thought of Businessman. I suppose I could be thankful that this episode had given me another chance to master my pride and anger and accept my actions. The sad thing is that the more often this happens to me - and I expect it will again - the less I trust everyone I meet; the very people I came to get to know.

Yes I am gullible, yes, I am foolish - in fact I have invented a new word for myself, 'gullnerable' - but I would rather be that person than one who rejects every opportunity due to suspicion, doubt and fear. I don't want to be closed, so I will have to sharpen up quick or accept the consequences.

I still had time to go shopping so, to console myself, I bought a beautiful silver filgree lamp that, when packed, created a box almost two feet long, by a foot wide. Now, like Diogenes of Sinope, I am forced to carry the sodding thing around with me, still searching for the Truth, which I did not find from my guru.