Firstly I owe an apology to my family who widely regarded me to be dead for a while due to lack of contact. While I can see that this would be somewhat distressing, this abandonment of any commitment was due to a wholesome opium addiction which I found to be quite time consuming. This worthwhile pursuit was both enlightening and allowed me to lose quite a lot of weight. So, you know...every cloud.
Anyway, I decided post Darjeeling to make the trip to Nepal largely due to the fact that it was in the way of where I wanted to go next. So after trying to drunkenly liberate a red panda (see below) from the local zoo on my birthday I set off over the border to the next stop on my well trodden voyage - Pokhora.
A beautiful, scenic and serene settlement by a sprawling lake, it seemed to have all the required facets for pursuing idleness, until it became clear that this settlement was perforated with my old enemies, the ones they call hippies. Moving only their withered wrists to signal for more herbal tea, they lounged around the cafes and bars filling the air with their faux philosophical tripe. On interacting with this strange species a pattern once again began to emerge....
Hippie: "so, like, where are you from man?"
A beautiful, scenic and serene settlement by a sprawling lake, it seemed to have all the required facets for pursuing idleness, until it became clear that this settlement was perforated with my old enemies, the ones they call hippies. Moving only their withered wrists to signal for more herbal tea, they lounged around the cafes and bars filling the air with their faux philosophical tripe. On interacting with this strange species a pattern once again began to emerge....
Hippie: "so, like, where are you from man?"
Eduardo (our hero): "England. You?"
Hippie: "I'm from my mother's womb"
E: "no, I meant what country"
Psychedelic troglodyte: "I'm a citizen of the world, brother. So you like, finished Uni?"
E: ".......yeah."
Dreadlocked oxygen thief: "yeah man, I couldn't hack it. working for the man just isn't for everyone you know? So what course did you do?"
E: "half politics, half -"
Jesus Christ, superdouche [cuts in]: "Oh right on brother. I'm an anarchic communist"
[the hippie looks at our hero. expectant silence]
E: "Good for you"
The missing link: ".....That's such a fascist thing to say"
E: "I'll see you later."
And so on and so forth. But my bemusement regarding these creatures of psy-trance continued to grow, mainly due to a chance interaction with the man who seemed to be widely regarded as king of this colony of hippie hoppie mole rats.
I had heard a little about this deity, known as Shiva in the local community. A Frenchman by birth (but obviously not nationality), he walked briskly from bar to bar with cries of "allo brozzer! How ar you?" to all that laid eyes on his enlightened being. I saw him a few days before I was introduced to him, strolling down the lake side. A tall man with gaunt features and a whispy beard, it was fair to say that he had more than heard of drugs. There was not an ounce of fat on him. He wore a turban of sorts and a sarong, with the glazed look of a being who was concerned with more than mortal issues. There was an entourage of stray dogs following him at all times, which I guess could be interpreted as his congregation - they would enter a bar half a minute before he got there and lie in muted expectation, as ominous as cows sitting down before the rain. It was this warning that I should have heeded when sitting one morning drinking my chai in a post scrambled eggs coma - the arrival of the dogs in my cafe heralded the arrival of their master, Not dissimilar to the way that tremours can preceed a major earthquake. A tsunami of religion was headed my way.
Above - the closest thing the internet can muster.
So there I was, drinking the aforementioned chai, when I turned my head to find a withered face 2 feet from mine, staring me straight in the eyes with unerring confidence.
"Allo brozzer" said Shiva.
"...Hello?"
"Ow ar you?"
"Very well, thank you. Shiva, right?" He beamed at this recognition.
"Aaaah yes! My reputazion prezeedez me! But ziz is only natural"
"Why is that?"
"Why? But of courze! I am God! I am Shiva! I am Jesus! Reincarnated!" Ah. Ok. didn't know those deities intertwined that much.
"Um...How?" forgive me the ignorant questions Shiva, I am but a mere mortal on your spectral plain.
"How? Brozzer, I know! you take my birth name, you add zee letters, you divide ziz by ze number of Shiva, you subtract ze number of cobras in exziztence...(forgive me, I lost him and thus got a bit interpretive here)...multiply ze number Hindu gods and square ze year of my birth! Thus, I am Shiva!" The math, I'm sure, is very sound.
"Oh. Ok. I thought there would be more....ceremony surrounding your return" I said, meekly.
"But brozzer, why must zeir be? Do unto ozzers as you would yourzelf! Be true! I am Shiva!"
"Sure. So...when did you realize this?"
"Well brozzer, I was at ze birthplace of Shiva, and ziz baba, he lookz at me, comes to me on all fourz, and kizzez my feet. And He sayz to me, 'Shiva!' And ziz was when I knew!" Shiva was warming to his topic. I, on the other hand, was really warming to theory that LSD does long term damage to regular users.
"So...what happens when you die?"
"Everyone diez!" Whoa whoa whoa. Back up Shiva.
"What?!"
"On ze day of my death, ze apocalypze commence!" This seems to be something he should advertise more.
"Hold on...how old are you?"
"in ze earth yearz, 65!" So with your lifestyle we've got 10 years, tops? Selfish is the word that springs to mind. I gestured for the bill. Whilst interesting, Shiva is the most intense roller coaster a mortal being can ride.
"Ok. Well Shiva, for my sake I wish you a long and prosperous life, haha...." No smile. Nothing.
"Yes brozzer, ziz iz in your interestz. Ar you finished with your breakfazt?" He started rifling through the remains of my scrambled eggs without waiting for a response.
"....Yes. Ok. Well, take care Shiva, for all our sakes." I started to make my way onto the street.
"Wait! Brozzer! one more thing!" He waved for me to come closer. I walked back and bent down to his level. Shiva looked me dead in the eyes, and simply said the six most unexpected words I ever expected to emerge from a figurehead of 2 major religions....
"You want to buy some 'ash?"
I had been offered weed by a religious deity. Never let it be said that Christianity isn't progressive.
"No, thank you Shiva, I'm fine." I made to leave again.
"What about some pollen? very good, itz very nize!" The new new Testament, Chapter one, verse one - 'and God said unto man, 'oy bruv, you want some quality grade yea? It'z real good shit'.
"No thank you Shiva. I've got to shoot off, take care." And with that I made my hasty retreat out into the street, under the watchful gaze of his collected canine congregation.
Shiva without a doubt goes down as the most abstract character I have met so far. It is genuinely impossible to put into words the theories behind his enlightenment that he entrusted me with due to the language barrier and the machine gun pace at which he spoke, but I hope that this written encounter does some justice to his personality. So, as Shiva's flock, you must take one thing from this: live life to the full, because the amount of methamphetamines consumed by 'Shivus' leaves us roughly 3-4 years before the four horsemen ride forth from the blazing sky to collect our souls. But take comfort in the fact that when you meet your Savior in the next life, he will be high as balls.
And on that note....wait, wait. Sorry to disappoint the rumour mill, I haven't developed an opiate problem - It was 'une blague' to make you read this. Ha. On a different note, Kashmiri's have educated me in some of the finer points in bestiality....but that is another story. Peace.
Hippie: "I'm from my mother's womb"
E: "no, I meant what country"
Psychedelic troglodyte: "I'm a citizen of the world, brother. So you like, finished Uni?"
E: ".......yeah."
Dreadlocked oxygen thief: "yeah man, I couldn't hack it. working for the man just isn't for everyone you know? So what course did you do?"
E: "half politics, half -"
Jesus Christ, superdouche [cuts in]: "Oh right on brother. I'm an anarchic communist"
[the hippie looks at our hero. expectant silence]
E: "Good for you"
The missing link: ".....That's such a fascist thing to say"
E: "I'll see you later."
And so on and so forth. But my bemusement regarding these creatures of psy-trance continued to grow, mainly due to a chance interaction with the man who seemed to be widely regarded as king of this colony of hippie hoppie mole rats.
I had heard a little about this deity, known as Shiva in the local community. A Frenchman by birth (but obviously not nationality), he walked briskly from bar to bar with cries of "allo brozzer! How ar you?" to all that laid eyes on his enlightened being. I saw him a few days before I was introduced to him, strolling down the lake side. A tall man with gaunt features and a whispy beard, it was fair to say that he had more than heard of drugs. There was not an ounce of fat on him. He wore a turban of sorts and a sarong, with the glazed look of a being who was concerned with more than mortal issues. There was an entourage of stray dogs following him at all times, which I guess could be interpreted as his congregation - they would enter a bar half a minute before he got there and lie in muted expectation, as ominous as cows sitting down before the rain. It was this warning that I should have heeded when sitting one morning drinking my chai in a post scrambled eggs coma - the arrival of the dogs in my cafe heralded the arrival of their master, Not dissimilar to the way that tremours can preceed a major earthquake. A tsunami of religion was headed my way.
Above - the closest thing the internet can muster.
So there I was, drinking the aforementioned chai, when I turned my head to find a withered face 2 feet from mine, staring me straight in the eyes with unerring confidence.
"Allo brozzer" said Shiva.
"...Hello?"
"Ow ar you?"
"Very well, thank you. Shiva, right?" He beamed at this recognition.
"Aaaah yes! My reputazion prezeedez me! But ziz is only natural"
"Why is that?"
"Why? But of courze! I am God! I am Shiva! I am Jesus! Reincarnated!" Ah. Ok. didn't know those deities intertwined that much.
"Um...How?" forgive me the ignorant questions Shiva, I am but a mere mortal on your spectral plain.
"How? Brozzer, I know! you take my birth name, you add zee letters, you divide ziz by ze number of Shiva, you subtract ze number of cobras in exziztence...(forgive me, I lost him and thus got a bit interpretive here)...multiply ze number Hindu gods and square ze year of my birth! Thus, I am Shiva!" The math, I'm sure, is very sound.
"Oh. Ok. I thought there would be more....ceremony surrounding your return" I said, meekly.
"But brozzer, why must zeir be? Do unto ozzers as you would yourzelf! Be true! I am Shiva!"
"Sure. So...when did you realize this?"
"Well brozzer, I was at ze birthplace of Shiva, and ziz baba, he lookz at me, comes to me on all fourz, and kizzez my feet. And He sayz to me, 'Shiva!' And ziz was when I knew!" Shiva was warming to his topic. I, on the other hand, was really warming to theory that LSD does long term damage to regular users.
"So...what happens when you die?"
"Everyone diez!" Whoa whoa whoa. Back up Shiva.
"What?!"
"On ze day of my death, ze apocalypze commence!" This seems to be something he should advertise more.
"Hold on...how old are you?"
"in ze earth yearz, 65!" So with your lifestyle we've got 10 years, tops? Selfish is the word that springs to mind. I gestured for the bill. Whilst interesting, Shiva is the most intense roller coaster a mortal being can ride.
"Ok. Well Shiva, for my sake I wish you a long and prosperous life, haha...." No smile. Nothing.
"Yes brozzer, ziz iz in your interestz. Ar you finished with your breakfazt?" He started rifling through the remains of my scrambled eggs without waiting for a response.
"....Yes. Ok. Well, take care Shiva, for all our sakes." I started to make my way onto the street.
"Wait! Brozzer! one more thing!" He waved for me to come closer. I walked back and bent down to his level. Shiva looked me dead in the eyes, and simply said the six most unexpected words I ever expected to emerge from a figurehead of 2 major religions....
"You want to buy some 'ash?"
I had been offered weed by a religious deity. Never let it be said that Christianity isn't progressive.
"No, thank you Shiva, I'm fine." I made to leave again.
"What about some pollen? very good, itz very nize!" The new new Testament, Chapter one, verse one - 'and God said unto man, 'oy bruv, you want some quality grade yea? It'z real good shit'.
"No thank you Shiva. I've got to shoot off, take care." And with that I made my hasty retreat out into the street, under the watchful gaze of his collected canine congregation.
Shiva without a doubt goes down as the most abstract character I have met so far. It is genuinely impossible to put into words the theories behind his enlightenment that he entrusted me with due to the language barrier and the machine gun pace at which he spoke, but I hope that this written encounter does some justice to his personality. So, as Shiva's flock, you must take one thing from this: live life to the full, because the amount of methamphetamines consumed by 'Shivus' leaves us roughly 3-4 years before the four horsemen ride forth from the blazing sky to collect our souls. But take comfort in the fact that when you meet your Savior in the next life, he will be high as balls.
And on that note....wait, wait. Sorry to disappoint the rumour mill, I haven't developed an opiate problem - It was 'une blague' to make you read this. Ha. On a different note, Kashmiri's have educated me in some of the finer points in bestiality....but that is another story. Peace.
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