April 11, 2016
I dropped off my cancer book to Subash today so he can thumb through the pages I have dog ear and sections I have highlighted.
My new tattoo is quite large. Lots of bruising. The colors turned out great. Hanuman still needs touch ups but there is still healing to be done. It’s almost over. I’ll get it done in a couple of weeks. I have been under the knife too much lately.
I want out of India. I want out of everything. Life, business, travel, I have seen all of these places. I am done. Yet, how do I convey my thoughts to others? It’s not that I a weak rather. I am strong. Strong, enough to realize which part of the boat I sit. I am comfortable of this chair, 2nd class – no A/C.
Last night, there were 117 killed in a “Fire Work” explosion somewhere in South India. That bomb must have been huge. Not that it was a “bomb”. Just typical incompetence. I used the salt and pepper shaker. Both contain pepper. What can I do. Many would say “Ask for the Salt”. India does not work in this realm. She beats a guy down to the point whereas someone from the west can only reply, “fuck it”. This is the India I love. The beat down. Having language to endure this alone for several months. Food problems, bike problems, hygienic problems and yet, though I return to Canada physically intact but mentally I change.
Cara has just returned. She had to go to the ATM. We didn’t have money for the food bill. She had to go quite a ways a way.
I have realised now that she has why may written thoughts are beeper and returned darker when written.
I don’t want masala on m fries. Ever. But they always come topped with masala if I forget which, inevitably, is 100% of the time.