by Smith, Skye
"Park beside that hut," Sanjay instructed. The hut was all boarded up. No one had lived here for years. "This is my family home. When I am finally pushed out of the ashram, I will have no where else to live but here. It is not so bad. The water is clean. There are fruit trees behind the hut. Put your walking shoes on. You will need them."
He was not exaggerating. Beyond the hut and the fruit trees, the trail became a steep climb out of the wider valley and into a gorge in the cliff face. Just when they were puffing and sweating and needing to rest, he cut towards the cliff, and pushed some thorny bushes aside. Behind the bushes was a steel-clad door which was quite incongruous with its surroundings. It had a giant padlock.
He pulled a small oil can out of his side bag and oiled the padlock and oiled the door hinges and latch. Then he pulled out a ring of keys and fitted one to the padlock. He oiled that key and then twisted it in the keyhole and the old lock creaked open. The creak of the lock was nothing compared to the creak of the door hinges.
With a flashlight from his side bag lighting his way, he reached inside and pulled out a farm wife’s switch broom. He used it to sweep away cobwebs. "Poisonous spiders," he announced nonchalantly. "don't let one bite you." The light flashed about inside the cave and then he leaped back away from the door and pulled them all with him. A large snake whipped out and disappeared into the bushes.
Marique screamed. Rats they had a plenty in Bruges, but never snakes. "Poisonous?" she asked.
"No," replied Ajay. "Poisonous snakes are skinny. That one was thick. Some kind of constrictor. They still have teeth to bite, though. The good news is that they eat the poisonous ones, and rodents. They are the farmer's friends."
Maya shivered unintentionally despite the heat. She had grown up in California, in snake country. She really didn't like them. Sanjay was waving to her to go with him inside. "Not you" he told the others. "just her." She borrowed Marique’s tiny LED flashlight and followed the old man into the dark cave. Just passing under the broken cobwebs gave her the heebie jeebies.
The first thing she did inside was trip over an old pipe. He took her arm to balance her. "This is the water source for my hut. It is healthy water, mineral spring water. My father once bottled it and sold it to tourists. Now my cousin in the USA owns all this land because I cannot keep anything in my name. Did I mention my problem with the tax men."
They followed the pipe along, deeper and deeper into the cave. "Outside, my father buried the pipe. He didn't want strangers finding this place by following the pipe."
Maya flicked her light back and forth along the walls. They had markings from a pick axe or a chisel on them. "This isn't a cave, it's a mine."
"I did not say it was a cave. It is an ancient mine. Perhaps from before the British. See?" He shone his light onto a seam of white rock. "The mine followed a vein of quartz into the cliff. The water follows the seam down from above. My father fed us all by selling the water, but he died when I was sixteen."
"I thought your father sold water to tourists. How is that, when he died so long ago?"
"Oh my dear, there have been tourists visiting the caves and temples around Pune for a thousand years. He sold water to British tourists when the British Raj still ruled. I took over his business and sold water in the high season, but in the low season I tried to work the mine. There is a little gold still. Then the ceiling fell in and almost killed me. Look up there."
The floor of the mine sloped up and she shone her light along it. The floor merged up with the ceiling and there, hanging from the ceiling were dozens of quartz crystals. Some of them quite large. He pulled on her arm. "This is why I still have my aura. This is why I didn't lose it as a child like everyone else. So my child, why do you still have yours?"
It was probably safer not to tell him anything about herself, but then she decided that wasn't fair when he was being so open. "Auras seem to be passed along in my bloodline. At least that is what my mother told me, but she doesn't have one herself. Sometime soon I should go and visit my great-grandmother. Maybe she knows."
"That is not what I asked. Most are born with them. I asked why you still have one. Why did you not lose it as a child, like everyone else?"
"Umm, my mom lives on a claim for an old gold mine. It was abandoned after the California gold rush. I used to play in the mine even though she'd punish me if she caught me. Maybe there was quartz in it, but not that I remember. Maybe."
"If it was a gold mine, then of course it had quartz. They go hand in hand. The quartz helps gold nuggets to form. Did your mother ever work the claim?"
"No, it was already boarded up when she bought the land. The boards were rotten so it was easy for me to sneak in."
"Perhaps she should reopen it. You see all those crystals? The original miners never found them. They were so close, but those crystals remained hidden. They thought the vein had run out. One day I was digging away, and suddenly the ceiling fell in. That raised floor over there used to be the ceiling. That crystal formation was above the ceiling.
My family left the hut after independence in 1948. There were no more British tourists to sell water to. For ten years I traveled from ashram to ashram searching for answers about my aura. In the sixties I became a sadhu and walked to Katmandu to smoke dope with the rock stars. Then in 1972 when the price of gold soared, I came back here to work this mine. I used gold from this mine to buy the land and build the ashram.
You hate me, don't deny it. You hate me for what I became, but I didn't start like that. I was like you. Innocently looking for answers with holy men who didn't even know the questions." He grabbed her arm. "There, now it is your turn. Tell me something that I don't know."
She asked him to sit in lotus position and get comfortable and empty his mind and meditate. She sat in front of him. Above them was the crystal formation. She raised her aura and then used her left hand to focus it all at him. She could feel his aura because hers was pinging it. She knew this, because his was getting stronger. Her aura was making his stronger, bringing it out. She felt herself going into a trance, and she fought her desire to enter it, and pulled herself back and opened her eyes.
He was in a trance. She remembered how a Buddhist monk had once, well several times, hypnotized her to train her subconscious in how to raise and lower and focus her aura. Now she tried the same thing with him. For the first time in her life she attempted to use hypnosis on someone else.
Over and over she repeated a simple thought in a deep calm voice. She told him that his subconscious would remember these instructions but his conscious self would not. Then she had his subconscious practice the two moves. The praying with the hands to strengthen his aura, and the grabbing of elbows to weaken it.
She had an advantage. When his palms were together, she allowed her aura to strengthen his aura. When he grabbed his elbows, she pulled back her aura to weaken his. After about six repetitions she got bored with it all and decided to wake him up and see if it had worked.
It did work. She was so pleased with herself. She had actually used hypnosis on someone. He was also very pleased. He practiced strengthening his aura while sitting under his family's crystals until she told him to stop. "Enough, we have been in here for almost two hours. I have told them twice already that we were almost finished."
Back outside in the heat and dust and sun, the young couple had disappeared. They found them down hill near to the hut sitting shoulder to shoulder on the stream bank soaking their feet in the cool water.
"Finally," Marique complained. "I 'ave been dreaming about jumping into the swimming pool at the ashram, you know, clothes and all ."
The old man was silent the entire way back to the ashram. He sat cross-legged on the back seat practicing his new skills over and over again.
True to her word, as they walked passed the pool and passed the line of chaise lounges covered in sun warmed female flesh, Marique shucked her clothes and dived naked into the swimming pool. Maya shucked and dived in after her. The old man disapp
eared into the compound. Ajay sat fully clothed and fully embarrassed on a chaise guarding their clothes and pouches for them.
They had missed lunch, the main meal of the day, but as soon as they reached their bungalow a pretty young girl arrived and asked if they wanted to have snacks served on their veranda. They said 'yes' and she skipped away like any school girl.
"That is one of the Nepali sisters," said Ajay.
"No, you are kidding. They are pimping her out?. She is so young," said Marique putting a hand up to cover her mouth. "Did you see how she skipped like a school girl? Bastards."
* * * * *
* * * * *
MAYA'S AURA - the Ashram by Skye Smith
Chapter 14 - Ashram in Pune, India
For me every ruler is alien that defies public opinion. - Mahatma Gandhi.
They finished their snacks, and were craving beer, which was not available. All drugs were prohibited from the ashram, including alcohol. Instead they had a visit from three suits from the office.
"Hello, I am Manfred, or Manny. We spoke yesterday when you arrived. Is your bungalow to your liking? Yes? Of course it is. These are my business partners, Gav and Dagh." They all sat without being asked. "We have come to make you an offer."
"No thank you," said Maya. "I don't fuck piggy men just for room and board."
Gav looked just like the men in the next bungalow, piggy. He didn't get it. Dagh explained it to him. He gave her a beady look and swore to himself that he would make her pay for that remark, in kind.
Manny just chuckled. "I think we have a misunderstanding. Our main business is meditation. The other, is well, just a service we are expected to provide to some of our wealthier clients." He felt their scorn but he did not care.
"Our gardener tells us that you have the strongest aura he has ever felt. We are in need a new centerpiece, a new beacon for our meditation business, now that our gardener is too old. Your duties vould be nothing more than what you did in the yoga class this morning." He did not mention that a dozen women already tried to sign up for a class with this young woman.
"Just like that," Maya responded skeptically. "You accept that I have a strong aura on blind faith. Forgive my skepticism but I am sure there is more profit for you in like, selling my ass than in selling my aura."
"Frankly, you are wrong. You have only one ass to sell. Your vords not mine. With you as a beacon many new asses will flock to here. That will solve a supply problem that is holding back our plans for expansion."
Maya saw that both Ajay and Marique were about to tell the suits to fuck off. She touched their feet with hers, and when they looked at her she mouthed a 'no' and a 'shh'. "So what is in it for me?" she asked looking directly at Manfred. Their eyes met. He did not look away. Neither did she.
She interrupted him before he could speak. "No, before we bargain I must show you the full extent of my gift, but not today. Give me two more days to prepare myself and then assemble say a dozen of your key people, including you three. I will hold a special meditation session with you, like I did for the women in the yoga class. Yours, however, will be way beyond what you can even imagine. Once you have felt my aura, only then will we bargain. Okay?"
"Two days, a dozen executive and management. Yes, that can be arranged. I apologize for not having thought of it myself," said Manfred. "That is good timing. It will be after the weekend rush. Yes, I will arrange for it. Is there anything you will need?"
"Each of the twelve should be wearing a quartz crystal on a lace, not a wire. You know, like the crystals you sell in your gift shop. Good quality ones would be best. Oh, and I may need your gardener to help."
"It will be as you say. Meanwhile, enjoy." The three suits got up and walked away talking to each other in hushed and urgent tones.
Both her friends tried to speak at once, but Maya shushed them until the suits were out of sight. "It's okay, don't worry. This buys me a few more days to pick Sanjay's brain. I will give them a disappointing demo of my aura, and then we are out of here."
"You're getting good at this bargaining thing," Ajay praised her.
"What are you really up to?" said Marique suspiciously, then shrugged her shoulders. "Ajay, let's go on a beer run. Once it is dark we can sneak it in."
"Don't bother," said Maya. "Indian beer tastes skunky when it gets warm, and we have no way of keeping it cold."
"Then how about vodka," suggested Ajay. "There is endless chilled coconut water, and fruit juice available. We just pour vodka into it. Also, a bottle of vodka will be much easier to smuggle in than liters and liters of beer."
Maya watched them walk across the compound hand in hand. She sighed. She wanted to be in love. Just a light holiday affair. Something romantic in public and hot and horny in private. Was that too much to ask? She went into the bungalow to have a cool shower and wash the mine dust and cobwebs and snake shit out of her hair.
* * * * *
Her friends were carrying open coconuts, two each with straws towards the bungalow. Maya licked her lips in expectation. One of the things she had decided to love about India was coconut water, especially right out of a young coconut when the meat was still soft. The pure, slightly sweet water inside was almost effervescent and you could feel it doing you good as it went down.
They put the cocos on the table and then Marique showed the inside of her bag. A liter of vodka. She immediately twisted the cap off, held a coco and the bottle out of sight behind her and poured a good slug into the first coco. "Vodka is the only thing that does not ruin the taste of the coco," she said, "and if someone has accidentally, wink, wink, made it too strong, you can taste it."
Maya accepted the doctored coconut and watched as Marique poured another, and then another. She sipped it slowly. Rats, she could taste the vodka. Too bad. Life is tough. Ajay was sucking his back quickly and noisily. In India you expressed your appreciation of good things by making a lot of noise. He stood and told them that he was off to find more cocos.
It had been a very hot day and even though it was nearing sunset, everyone was still hiding from the heat. There were meditations scheduled under the shade trees, but Maya did not feel like being in a crowd. Besides, the women from Spokane would be looking for her there.
Ajay returned with four more open coconuts, and she knew exactly were they would lead him to. Inside, to the bed. She envied them.
After another round her suspicions were confirmed, as the couple walked arm in arm towards the bungalow door. "You can join us if you want," whispered Marique. Ajay couldn't believe what he had just heard and started to beam with the joy of the thought.
"I would love to but I can't," Maya refused the kind invitation politely. " I made promises in Vancouver. I am as good as engaged."
"To which one?" Ajay asked, coming over and giving her a hug. "That is wonderful news, to which one?"
"Why, to both of course. Erik and Karl are an inseparable couple. You know that."
Ajay whistled slowly. "Canadians, they are being so modern. Here in India a man can have more than one wife, but only in Canada can a woman have more than one husband." He gave her another hug and then reached for Marique. They grabbed two more cocos and headed inside. Maya decided she didn't want to listen to another of their sessions.
There was a book exchange on one edge of the main dining room, and she walked there, keeping to the shade of the trees, to see what they had to trade. The beach romance novel she had been trying to read seemed boring compared to real life traveling in India. Somehow the amorous adventures of a woman trying to make it on Madison Avenue seemed just as out of place and as out of time here and now, as the big city ghetto lyrics of hip hop would be.
The dining room was empty of customers and staff. She wandered over to the book table and scanned the titles. There were two kind of books. Religion/meditation/self-awareness or spy/thriller/killer. She sighed and started a new section with her beach romance. There were old tatty books at the back that had already lost covers and spines and she
reached for them and had to turn pages to find out what they were.
The first one in her hand had no front cover or spine, and was missing the first few pages with copyright and contents. It was called Stories from the life of the Mahatma. She flipped it over to the barely attached back cover. There was a picture of an old man dressed in just a dhoti and with his ribs and shoulders sticking out from his skin. Gandhi.
She read the first Gandhi quote: "Among the many misdeeds of the British rule in India, history will look upon the act depriving a whole nation of arms as the blackest."
Good enough. At least it was about India. She spent a pleasant afternoon with Gandhi, with scents of jasmine and plumeria, and a soft finish of giggle and moans through the bedroom window. She was intrigued at the power that this wizened old man had over the entire population of such a varied place as India.
She read one of the footnotes again and again. In India, a person in the middle of a devotion is considered temporarily touched by holiness and no one will interfere with them. Even the police would not arrest them until they were finished their devotions. That told her more about this country than any of the tour books.
She must have dozed off, because Marique was shaking her awake. She was still curled up on the rattan love seat with the book. "Are you 'ungry? The dining room is open."
Maya looked up at the 'just come' soft flush on Marique's face. Bitch. "Of course," she stretched and had to be pulled out of the seat by Ajay. "Aren't you a smirky boy," she said to him. He just laughed and smirked even wider. "You know, of course, that everyone in the dining room will know." Now they both laughed and hooked arms with her and set out to eat.
The greasy fat Babas from Mumbai were seated at the VIP table with their companions, so Ajay led them both to the other end of the room and chose to sit at a long table of yoga-type women. He was still beaming, and being the envy of the Babas made him beam even more. The vodka had made him brave enough to strut his stuff.
