Contents | Chapter 2
I woke up to someone making a prayer.
I looked up at the ceiling which had disquieting, diagonal cracks running across it. Why was I here? The room was still dim, and the walls were slate gray. Some faint music reached my ears, due to someone singing far away. I knew that the song was a prayer. When I noticed the smell of unfamiliar incense, I realized that I was in a lodge in a foreign country.
Flinging off the sheets that clung onto my hands and legs, I got out of the bed. The vertically-striped curtains were swaying. Was I unable to shut the windows last night? Or was wind coming in through a gap? I didn’t feel cold, so I wasn’t in a cold country. On the back of a small chair hung a white shirt and a narrow pair of chino pants. I slowly put on the clothes. My body movements were heavy and slow, and it was the same for my head. Wanting to stay in this dozy state, I slipped on my sneakers and left the room.
The corridor that was made of sun-dried bricks was even darker than the room. The song of prayer stopped and faded into silence. In its place, a mix of water sounds, footsteps and the clinking of ceramics could now be heard. Not wanting to run into anyone, I tiptoed my way forward. Descending the jet-black wooden stairs, walking past the empty lobby and exiting the lodge, I was not seen by anyone.
In the half-light, I could not see the ends of the narrow streets that stretched to the left and right. The road was made of bare dirt. Though dry, it was soft and cushioned my footsteps. I could hear birdsong, as well as the murmur of a crowd from somewhere far away. But as far as I could see, I was the only person on the street, though it might just be coincidence. What time was it? I’d left my wristwatch in the room.
Diagonally across from the lodge was a small shrine. On top of the mud-plastered triangular roof sat a terracotta jewel-shaped finial1, and in front of it candles and red flowers had been left there as offerings. They were flowers I didn’t recognize. Proving that the song I’d heard in the room hadn’t been just an auditory illusion, the flowers were still fresh. A metal plate was placed next to the flowers, and from it some smoke with a faint smell rose into the air. Someone had been praying here.
The shrine had no door, and I could see the idol housed within. It was of Ganesh, the elephant-headed god, kicking his legs up energetically and sticking his belly out prominently, covered in multiple layers of red powder that symbolizes good fortune. I didn’t know the etiquette for praying at shrines here, which is why I did it the only way I knew, by putting my hands together, closing my eyes and bowing.
I had the knowledge that Ganesh is the god for prosperous business. Now, what should I wish for regarding my business? What I should do to be able to say that I was successful in my job?
In other words, I didn’t even know what I should pray to Ganesh for. It was still too early to be praying to the gods.
The hazy drowsiness still lingered. People appeared here and there in the street that had been empty just a moment ago. A young woman clad in a sari2 approached the shrine while clasping a red flower in her hands. I nodded as we passed each other, and she tilted her head a little before letting out a light grin.
Just like when I left, I returned to my room while muffling my footsteps. The room was dark when I woke up, but now had some morning sunlight streaming in. The gray walls now looked white. I took off my sneakers and gently lay on the bed, which still had rumpled sheets. Perhaps due to the fatigue of traveling, my consciousness began to fade as soon as I closed my eyes.
Right as I was on the verge of drifting off to sleep, I repeated some words to myself like a charm, so that I wouldn’t feel anxious as to when and where I was.
1 June, 2001. Kathmandu3. Tokyo Lodge Room 202.
Like my eyelids, my lips were heavy. Those words I muttered probably made no sound.
Contents | Chapter 2
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Editors (Tier 2): Dedavond, Pearl H Nettle
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