The only French I saw was an underwear billboard with the brand Frenchie.
‘Drop me here,’ Ananya said as we passed Cuddalore road, where HLL has one
of its factories.
I had three hours to kill in this Malgudi town as Ananya had an extended lunch
meeting. We had agreed to meet at the L’Orient hotel at four for coffee.
I drove out of the factory compound and followed the signs to the Aurobindo
Ashram on Rue de la Marine. The Ashram building resembled a quiet hostel by
the sea. I came to the reception. More foreigners than Indian thronged the ashram
lobby.
A forty-year old Western woman in a sari and beaded necklace sat at the
counter. ‘What are you looking for?’ she asked me.
Maybe, because I was in an ashram, or because the way she said it, I
suspected deeper meaning in her question. I looked at her. She had blue eyes
with wrinkles around them. ‘I’ve come for the first time,’ I confessed.
She gave me Ashram brochure. Another person came and bought meal tickets.
‘Can I get lunch here?’ I asked.
‘Yes, at the Ashram Dining Hall,’ she said and showed me the coupon booklet.
I bought one for myself.
‘Come, I’m going there,’ she said, walking out with me from the reception. We
walked along a lane adjacent to the ashram. The dining hall was half a kilometre
away. She told me her name was Diana and that she came from Finland. A former
lawyer, she now found more satisfaction as a volunteer at the ashram than
helping Nokia secure patents.
‘Are you a seeker or here as a tourist?’ She handed me my coupon.
‘Seeker?’
‘Yes, if you wish to seek your path. Or if you seek answers to a specific
problem.’
‘Frankly, I came with a friend who had some work here. I wanted a day away
from office.’
Diana laughed. We reached the dining hall and picked our stainless steel
plates. We entered the eating area where everyone sat on the floor. Lunch was
simple – organic brown rice, yellow daal and a carrot and peas subzi.
nora
(Nora)
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