Far away from the bustling population, somewhere in the foothills of the Himalayas, there lies a small town by a mighty river. The place is so serene, people say, that many have left their mundane lives to visit this town, seeking the true meaning of their very existence. Others, I hear, just visit for the good steaks that they serve by the poolside at a certain restaurant considered world famous. They call it “The Pigtailed Sage” restaurant – named after a rather ravenous hermit who lived many centuries ago and was quite fond of steaks especially when prepared medium rare.
I was neither particularly fond of steaks, nor was I searching for any specific meaning of my existence. But I needed some quiet time by myself. And I will tell you why.
I work as a call center agent. For those who are unfamiliar with this line of work, a brief explanation is in order. A call center agent is essentially one who caters to the disgruntled members of the general population, who want to vent out on an unknown unseen face, so they can seek some queer satisfaction from the very act of venting out. I am not making it up. There exists such a profession and this is exactly what I have been doing for a living for the most part of my adult life. It is not a profession for the faint hearted, I can tell you that.
As you can possibly imagine, every now and then, a call center agent would want a break. A breath of fresh air, possibly even a steak, done medium rare or otherwise. A break is precisely what I sought, when I decided to venture out to the small town by the river in the foothills of the Himalayas.
It was a wet dreary morning when I boarded the flight to the nondescript airport about 15 miles from the Himalayan town. A short cab drive, an overcrowded boat ride and a quick walk got me to the hotel somewhere in the north bank of the river. It was a noticeably clean looking hotel, something that I was not expecting in this part of the world. A quick warm bath and a bottle of cold coconut water helped soothe by frail nerves after the uneventful yet tiring journey.
After a short afternoon nap, I found myself sufficiently rejuvenated. It was early evening and I decided to venture out looking for food and possible entertainment. Little did I suspect what was in store for me.
As I started taking a slow stroll by the river, I bumped into a certain bearded person who was sitting on a plastic chair by the river. He had a curious garb on and had a looney look on his face. The sun was setting on the other side of the river, and I could hear devotional music at the far end. It was a perfect setting for the soul to soothe.
I don’t know what got me, probably the curious sight of someone sitting on a plastic chair on the pebbled riverbank, or probably the sweet aroma that filled the air about him. But I decided to engage in a conversation with the bearded bloke. There was no other furniture about him. So, I decided to make myself comfortable on a sizable boulder not too far from him.
Soon, we found ourselves engaged in a deep conversation about the true purpose of life. Mr. bearded person turned out to be all of twenty eight years old, formerly married, child and presently separated from wife and child, in pursuit of deeper meanings of life. He had me completely hooked on. He let me know that he had implanted himself in the said town for more than a few years and was on the verge of attaining enlightenment by the very bank of the river he had comfortably seated himself on the given plastic chair. I considered it impolite to enquire about the missing tree.
I do not recollect if it was the serene environment, the deep conversation with the young hermit or the very air about his persona, that I started feeling very happy. All my fatigue suddenly started to ebb and I was almost having the giddy feeling one gets when one experiences sudden true love. It was so palpable that we both found ourselves in a trance. We looked deep into each other’s eyes and just stopped short of holding hands. I was in seventh heaven.
The next thing I realized was the strong rays of sun on my unsuspecting eyes. When I woke up, I realized that I felt even lighter than before. Not only did my soul feel light, my body was practically weightless. On further enquiry, I found my outer garments missing. So were my mobile phone and purse. Slowly the memories of the previous night dawned upon me. In my blissful ecstasy, I had failed to notice the thick smoke that was emanating from our young hermit. Only later did I learn that the small town by the foothills of the Himalayas had few other attractions than serenity and steaks.
