Nainital

We left Amritsar on the overnight train to Haridwar. The trains here have carriages with beds in (and, of course, the inevitable, intimate, and indestructable cockroaches). Upon settling down in our booth we are joined by Varinder, who speaks excellent English, and knows just about everything about India and Indian history And one more thing..." seems to be his favourite phrase, turning what might have been succinct one-liners into a venerable essay of information. We lap it up.

Later in the evening, he calls me over. "Louise, I have a thing to tell you. Do not show people your sheep, they will laugh at you. And one more thing; the train attendants are a bit drunk, so be careful. And one more thing; you should not sleep in a bottom bunk. And one more thing; you seem very trusting, and you must be very careful, because people might take advantage of that."

Having quite happily followed this conversation in my head with the responses "I don't care if people laugh at me", "Hm, that train attendant did seem to be sweating a lot", and "I pity the fool who tries to come within 6 feet of me whilst I sleep" I suddenly come up icy cold at the words 'very trusting'. Foolish, naive, tactless, idiot, rush through my head. I feel a little bit sick that, once again, I have come across with this persona.

This is the me I used to know, my younger self, the one I have tried so hard to re-educate. Then I decided not to bother because I'm pretty sure I can't change who I am by trying to change who I am, if you know what I mean. I tend to sit with a relative confidence that although I might come across as naive, I am not a fool. Indeed, I have often played up to this image because I find it makes people lax about their self presentation; if they think you are stupid or unobservant (as follows the assumption from naive) they are less motivated to 'hide'. Perhaps this confidence is misplaced but it is there. However, I understand where Varinder was going; it is wise to not appear a fool and as such attract less attention as 'easy prey'.

Of course, my twisted mind wants to defend my 'easy prey appearance' approach; it's easy, I'm used to it, and it has worked well so far. It is probably my pride that is fuelling such justifications. Old habits die hard.

My attitude towards the probably-fake beggars is becoming less and less sympathetic the more invasive they become in their begging tactics. Today, we went for a meal. 4 'feggars' stand outside the restaurant shouting 'HELLO. HELLO. HELLO.' repeatedly along with 'MONEH PLES MONEH' and eating gestures towards their mouths. They fail to notice the 14 Indian customers, directing their determined (and incredibly loud) efforts towards me and John. I did what I have tried to do with all the beggars so far; looked them in the eye, gave them a smile and a respectful Namaste, but no more, unless I acquire information that they are a genuine beggar. My patience wore very thin with these feggars. But not so thin as to have anything untoward happen. John admonishes me: "Lou, there's no point getting angry about it, what's the point?" And he is, of course, correct. But then I wonder, what is the point to anything? Any emotion? If all this, existence, fades away, then to feel anything is ultimately futile. Everything ends. So I can feel or I can not feel and the end result is the same. Can I feel joy, love, magnamity, peace without equally irrational bouts of anger, fear, pain? I don't think so. I could become dead to the world, or perhaps be a Buddhist. Having already tried one of those paths I think I shall have to pick up my Tibetan prayer bowl and -keep- -trying-. Or, I can enjoy the rollercoaster. It is said that people feel less extremes of emotion the older they get...I am frightened to think of it. My 'passion' is very much who I am. It's what motivates me to try. Do we fade to grey just as our hair does?

Sounds worryingly like a question that Carrie might ask in one of her Sex and the City articles.

We've moved into a realm which I don't think I can write myself out of, so I shall take the easy exit and end my post.