Sometimes (4) . . . it is never enough

Goldfinger said,”Mr Bond, they have a saying in Chicago: ‘Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, the third time it’s enemy action.’”
I’ve lived in Chicago for over 7 years and have yet to hear this. I have never met a Goldfinger there either, a Goldstein, yes, but a Goldfinger, sadly, no.

The first time is happenstance, absolute chance. The first trip to India was like coming to Disneyland. In the Magic Kingdom the fairy dust sprinkles into your eyes and Mickey welcomes you at the gates, Mini is there too. Or maybe it was 24 hours of travel and everything is Goofy? The fairy dust is in the honking of cars and excitement of riding in a Rickshaw, the barking of dogs, having lunch on the floor of Guruji’s cook, or a reserved table at another of Guruji’s cooks, getting fantastic colored garments that are made specifically for those of us who can’t see that locals would not be caught wearing something that loud, but it is ‘authentically Indian’ and I should have it. Coconuts, and sugarcane juice, freshly pressed, and chai, and coconuts, and chai, and not doing that cane juice again, and coconuts!
Mysore is a wonderful place, filled with color, and life, and vibrance, potential, and it was a small world of important people in Ashtanga Yoga. There were some less savory parts too, but really it is a fairytale.

The second time is coincidence.
Goofy is back!
‘Tomorrow coming . . . you buy . . . you like . . . you pay rs50.’ Tomorrow is never coming Goofy, it is your polite way of saying ‘no’ and I will not buy this, I in fact don’t like this, and rs50 is a bit much but I don’t know any better, so ok.’ Magic? What is happening to you? This fairy dust feels a bit like dirt? I feel this desire to recreate the ‘magic’ by revisiting some of the same sites, temples, markets, and fancy hotel dinners. If I remake the past with different elements since different people are here the magic will come back, synchronicity, right? Attachment maybe?
This doesn’t work back home, has never worked in the past, but this is India, land of magic. The land of coconuts, strange magical food beverage. The place where the guy who writes your food order down needs to give it to another guy to bring someplace else, maybe all three will serve it to you too. The land wrapped in plastic, then burned with the trash out front. What remains the cows will eat. . . I’m sure it is all fascinating and magical. Goofy, why does everyone sound like Donald Duck? What did I miss?

The third time is enemy action.
Ok, seriously Goldstein? Enemy action? Maybe enema action?
Third time is habit.

That person I remember, oh and them too. Good. We have a gang. I can’t believe I am actually doing this again?!? But that thing, nope, not doing that again. Oh rickshaws, that’s nice, let’s play this game. Magic Kingdom, such a silly place and the games, wild, the children are wild. Honestly, I love wild! I can be involved in this. I know the tricks, but there are always more, I’m intrigued.
The lavish shows hiding the repression of women, the repression of, dreams, the education, the ability to think outside of the engineering box. The hard reality of the destitution is in the streets. In a ‘civilized country’ we hide this; under the streets, in shelters in the areas of town with no public transportation, in addictive psychotherapy medicine that can’t be fully supplied because insurance doesn’t cover it. This guy slams it in your face, nowhere else to look. Sex slaves, we have that back home, prostitution, malnourished children, alcoholism, gambling, grass is greener mentality, I could be talking about anywhere. This makes me feel ashamed.
India gave me a glimpse of what is behind the curtain. I bite. Shit! I got bit. She has a great bite, I want more . . .

Fourth time is . . .
I’m simply navigating this habit. I’m figuring out what it means to return here again and again and again and again, navigating through the turns and roller coasters of each day. I’m asking myself is there a change that can be made, what change can I make to me? I’m unwinding, slowly. I notice that them mind wants to remain busy like back home and feels guilty for staying still. Fourth time is . . . IMG_3280


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